The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. LXXXII

Look sharp, America - we have ourselves a genuine Holiday celebrity to deal with this evening. . . 

Album Title:  Have a Holly Jolly Christmas

Album Artist:  Burl Ives

Burl.

What kind of a parent looks down at a newborn baby and says, "Yup, 100%.  This baby looks like a Burl."  That parent must've been three sheets to the wind that day - it's a good thing Burl wasn't born with fetal alcohol syndrome.

Snow Bro.

Anyway, the poorly-monikered Mr. Ives is as recognizable around the Holiday Season as Santa Claus and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. . . more or less because all three of these guys were in the same movie together.  Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer - the stop-animation classic that came out in, like, the 1940s or something and has since become one of the most prolific Christmas movies in existence - features ol' buddy Burl as the voice of the film's narrator (a snowman who looks an Asian Wilford Brimley.)  Because of his role in the movie, and the fact that he sings a couple songs as well (which are on this album, actually), it's easy to slip right into this album and make yourself at home.

This is a really crappy graphics job. . .

The opening/title track of this album is the aforementioned one from Rudolph, and any person in Western Civilization could readily identify it.  This no-brainer of a Christmas jam has been covered many, many times, but no version I'm aware of holds a candle to the original.  It's not that Burl's necessarily a good singer (he's okay, I guess, but his voice is more novelty than talent), or that the song itself is awesome, it just oozes with nostalgia.  EVERYONE grew up with this song, so it's part of our shared Christmas experience.

If the entirety of Burl's album generated this type of emotional response, then we'd have a definitive Christmas classic on our hands (like Vince Guaraldi Trios' Charlie Brown Christmas, for example.)  Sadly, that's not the case with this particular album, because it loses its audience right away at the beginning of the second track.  

Burl, famous in the secular Christmas sphere, wanders over into the religious part of the Holiday season, singing about Jesus' birthday and what not.  To say this is jarring would be an understatement:  the churchy stuff is about as far removed from Santa, Christmas Trees, Rudolph, etc. as you can get, so when you have the guy that was literally a f***ing snowman suddenly singing about Jesus, it's like getting dosed with a bucket of ice water after stepping out of a sauna.  It's hard to separate Burl's voice singing about Jesus with the mental imagery of Wilford Brimley Snowman. . . and having a Wilford Brimley Snowman singing about Jesus would be. . . . well. . . just terrifying.

This slap on the face happens a few times on this album, but honestly that's my only gripe (even though I think it's a substantial one.)  If you like hokey 60s Christmas music, slathered up and down with Christmas nostalgia and invoking the memories of dozens of Christmases from yesteryear, then this album is for you.  Burl kills it on the children's songs ("Santa Claus is Coming to Town," the jams from Rudolph, etc.), as well as on the more secular songs - you can tell where his comfort zone is, for sure.

A folk singer by trade, Burl's unique voice - which you either like or despise - fits the song arrangements pretty well.  Not necessarily something you'd want to jam out to all the time, of course, but as was the case with quite a few albums I've reviewed in the past, this album fits a unique niche.  For those nights when you're perhaps looking through old photo albums of past Christmases by a fire, or writing out addresses on Christmas cards, or other such quiet, contemplative moments of the season, this is a sound choice.

VERDICT:  6/10 - Decent (I was going to give this a '7,' because overall it's pretty good, but aside from his upbeat, famous songs, all his other secular stuff is just decent. . . and his religious stuff is pretty weird.  I'm gonna keep this one, but can't say how often it's going to end up getting played every year.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. XXV

Happy Snow Day, Internet.

Album Title:  Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Other Christmas Favorites

Album Artist:  Various Artists

Harmless children's album, right?  Yeah, that's what I thought too.  When I picked it up at a local thrift store, I thought to myself, "Well hey, here we go:  a holiday album for the kiddos."  I mean, it's got two famous Christmas characters on the cover.  In cartoon-form, no less.

Well, as the saying goes, Don't judge an LP by its cover.

This album is f***ing scary.

"Hey Rudolph, wanna see a dead body?"

I'm serious.  I've heard a lot of crappy children's songs in my day, but the first track of Side B on this crap-fest may be the scariest thing I've listened to in some time.  Some random guy (I'm assuming a drifter) sings an occasional verse here or there, and I guess he's supposed to sound like Santa, but instead he sounds like a Balrog from Middle Earth, singing through a distortion pedal from the darkest bowels of the Black Cauldron.  It's horrifying.

And the singing children?  They're horrifying, too.  Creepy, sing-song shit that you'd expect to hear coming from the attic of some abandoned, run-down cottage deep in the woods.  Built on an Indian graveyard.

This album feels every bit like when Netflix releases a B-Movie that's title is so similar to a Hollywood blockbuster that it tricks people into watching it.  So, say you want to watch Pirates of the Caribbean, starring Johnny Depp, and when you search Netflix you find Pirates in the Caribbean, starring a handful of washed-up actors from early '90s shows like Melrose Place.  And as you start watching it - under the false pretense that it is the legit, Johnny Depp-version - you start thinking to yourself, "Wait a minute, this doesn't look right - I thought Disney made this film?  These special effects are garbage -this looks like a high schooler made this movie.  In China."

Then you realize you've been bamboozled, and that you've wasted twenty-six minutes of your life that you'll never get back.

That's what we have here, guys:  a collection of children's Christmas songs that are executed so terribly that you kick yourself for having wasted the time listening to it in the first place.  The instrumental arrangements aren't uniform (the volume rises and falls without reason, as if some chimps were in the control room turning knobs while their handler was off taking a piss), the song selection is considerably dated (I've never heard half of these songs before, and I fancy myself somewhat of a Christmas music aficionado), and the vocals are so scary that I want to hold my kids close and never let them go.

Merry Christmas, everybody!

VERDICT:  2/10 - Reality TV (A dark look into humanity's Holiday basement of horrors.  It gets a bonus point for featuring a clearly-belligerent Jimmy Durante trying to pick a fight with Santa Claus on 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.' )

- SHELVED -

Christmas Eve, the Plague, and Other Tales

Abby tries sneaking in a healthy breakfast. . .

Happy Pre-Christmas, gangsters.

It wouldn't be fitting for the Houghs to celebrate a major holiday without some major illness befalling one or more members of our group.  As you all know, Thanksgiving isn't all that awesome of a time for we Houghs, but usually Christmas passes by without any major calamity sweeping through.

At least it usually does.

My roommates are lame.

All this weekend, Kris was couch-ridden with a nasty cold that totally immobilized her.  At first she figured it was just her allergies acting up, but for three days she was completely drained off energy, and could barely function around the house.

As such, this left Yours Truly to pick up the last-minute, final-stretch slack around the house.  Good times.

The yard.  Or what's left of it.

Appropriate Christmas pastimes. . .

Enjoying a rare pipe break while the roommates catch up on naps.

Donde esta mi hija?

So the other day, Kris' church was having this thing where members could bring in old valuables and have an open gift exchange for the Holidays.  They set up several tables, and people brought in all kinds of stuff that you might find at a garage sale before it's been picked through.  I brought in a stack of old records that I no longer wanted (or else had more scratches than an audiophile like myself could tolerate), some books, odds and ends, and even a few swords.

Unfortunately, we missed the two earlier services, where most of the good trading was done, so by the time we got there everything was picked through, and no one snatched up any of our stuff.  We left everything but the swords (which, for the umpteenth time, I could not get rid of) at the church to be donated, and went home.

Before leaving the church, however, Kris had been speaking with a woman about an antique sewing machine and table set.  Upon realizing that Kris was interested in the table, the woman - who had been anxious to get the table out of her guest room for some time - offered to drive it over to our house.  We had no prior notion what the sewing machine looked like, so when the woman and her husband dropped it off, we were stunned to discover how nice it was. . .

A 1961 Sears Kenmore Model 90 Sewing Machine.  The motor was recently replaced, and the machine appears to be in mint condition (I found this particular picture online - Kris' is in a lot nicer shape, as is the table).

Now all Kris needs to do is learn how to use the damn thing. . .

The table itself is in really nice shape, and - as an added bonus - matches the rest of our bedroom furniture.  Since Kris doesn't know how to sew yet, this thing will probably be a clutter stand for awhile.  Cowabunga. 

Checking off another Christmas Classic off the list:  Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Burl Ives.  Represent.

As Christmas Eve rolled in, Abby seemed to catch whatever had sidelined Kris for the weekend.  She 'didn't feel good,' and constantly complained about her stomach and her butt.  At first we chocked it up to constipation, but eventually came to the realization - in horror - that our kid would probably be sick for Christmas. . .

Testing out the Skype connection with Papa and Nana. . .

Entering in Sam Adams' Old Fezziwig's Ale into my Beer Journal app.

Skyping with Grandma and Papa John.  We decided to open up some gifts with them for Christmas Eve, and allowed the girls to open up one each.  Kris and I, as custom dictates, opened up the tree ornaments we get each other each year.

Kris got me a ukulele ornament this year, which is fitting, as I'm borderline obsessed with the stupid things.

Abby opened up a VTech Slide n' Text Phone (like one of those cell phones where a keyboard slides out from the side).  Has lots of letter/number recognition, but also games and play modes that she can waste time with. . .

We had Alayna open up her LeapFrog Tag Reader, which we really wanted her to get this year due to her increasing interest in learning how to read.

Texting.

The Cannonball tries out her new Tag Reader. . .

I got Kris a Wicked Witch Hallmark ornament this year. . . which she practically commanded I get her.  Usually it's the other way around.

2012 Ornaments

Tracking Santa via Google Earth on my Android.  I think here the Fat Man was en route from Uzbekistan to Kazakhstan.  You know how popular he is over there. . .

Picking cookies to leave out for Santa.  Big hit.

I think she's making sure they haven't been poisoned.

Writing a label so Santa know the cookies have been laid out for him, opposed to some other fictional holiday character.  Like Krampus.

(She wasn't sure how to spell this.)

The one time per year you can read this book without it being weird.

Santa sprang into action once the kids went to bed. . .

Our hodge-podge assortment of stockings.  Next year I think I want to buy a family set.

The girls' two main gifts (which they technically got from Santa).  Doll set-up for Abby, bike for Alayna.

Priming the Living Room for Christmas. . .

Skype set up for Christmas Morning.  I was able to buy an adapter off Amazon so I can run my MacBook Pro into the TV via HDMI, which gives us a pretty solid picture when Skyping with grandparents. . .

Ready.

- Brian