The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. XXXVI

Welcome back, Internet.  Time for some yuletide jam scrutinage. . .

Album Title:  'Tis the Season

Album Artist:  Jimmy Buffet

This is one of those no-brainers, guy.  It's Jimmy Buffet, for Christ's sake.

If you've ever listened to a Buffet song in your life, you know exactly what this album sounds like:  Caribbean-infused country versions of Christmas favorites, as well as some less-known songs and even a few original compositions thrown in for good measure.  Lots of steel drums, lots of steel guitar, lots of hokey lyrics.

Again, it's Jimmy Buffet.

I gotta say, though, I'm glad I snagged this on sale for $8 instead of paying full price for it (despite the fact that it's on heavy-duty, white vinyl - I love me a gimmick.)  You know how people say you can tell if someone's smiling over the phone by the way their voice sounds?  Well, Jimmy Buffet isn't smiling much on this album:  he sounds like he's simply going through the motions to pocket another paycheck.  This whole album sounds phoned-in - it's definitely a let-down.

Did they photoshop this to make him look built?

There isn't any fire on this album - no stand-out tracks, no passion, no fury - and that's disappointing, because I'm a big fan of his other Holiday album, Christmas Island.  That album - recorded twenty years before this one - sounds like the whole band was having a blast throughout the entire recording process.  Lyrics about pirates and drinking in the sun - you could practically hear the Puerto Rican rum splashing all over the studio microphones.

'Tis the Season suffers from a few different things, aside from it's lazy and lackluster performance from Buffet.  For one, the entire album sounds less country and more Seaworld Orlando, as if Buffet - whose country background in the early 1970s gives his more famous work such heart - said to himself, "Oh, the Caribbean thing sells with the consumers, eh?  Let's increase the tropical sound by 170% and lose all the country bullshit."  There's almost too much steel drum on this LP, it's frickin' jarring.

I don't buy this camaraderie for one second.

Secondly, the song choice is terrible.  Just terrible.  Christmas Island had enough original music and enough well-executed versions of Holiday standards to really draw a line in the sand (with a pirate cutlass, obviously):  this is the 'Jimmy Buffet Christmas Album.'  'Tis the Season, on the other hand, comes across as 'Another Jimmy Buffet-sounding Album of Christmas Songs.'  Those two things are in no way, shape or form even remotely similar to one another.

Actually, you know what this album sounds like?  It sounds like all the band members flew into their state-of-the-art LA studio (the production value of this album is spotless,) being forced to ride coach because Buffet is too stingy to splurge on First Class for them.   The band all hate each other now, but Jimmy Buffet Inc. is a cash cow and they're not going to bite the hand that feeds them.  Upon arrival, Jimmy's talent agent gives all the musicians their marching orders - Jimmy doesn't even bother showing up to pretend he likes the band at this point - and they all record their tracks separately.  No one ever sees Jimmy Buffet, as he's out of town opening up a new Margaritaville in Seoul.

In fact, Jimmy doesn't lay down his vocal and guitar tracks until the very end of the recording process, long after the rest of the backing band have disembarked on their various private jets back to their far-flung homes.  He does a couple takes, constantly berating the sound engineers for not doing their job making him sound like he's still in his 20s, then storms off, half-drunk and doped up on Percocet.

. . . .

. . . why the hell don't I own Christmas Island on vinyl??

VERDICT:  6/10 - Meh  (Still sounds like Jimmy Buffet, but it's a stretch at this point.  This LP is Christmas Island's younger and far-douchier brother who tries too hard to be cool.)

- SHELVED -

White People Mall

As you may recall from previous posts, we Houghs fancy any family outting that ends up with us staring at animals in captivity.

Hence our obsession with Sea World.

With only one more day left until our annual family passes were set to expire, we decided to enjoy one last afternoon of taking pictures of our kids watching dolphins swim aimlessly about a tank.

Unbeknownst to us at the time of our leaving the house, every single person in Orlando was struck with the exact same idea.

We had never seen Sea World so backed up; it took a half hour just to pull up to the ticket window.  Once through the parking entrance, the lot itself was packed full of idiots who were doing the exact same thing we were trying to do.  Knowing that inside the park would be even worse (Seaworld's thoroughfares bottleneck like crazy, making a simple action like 'walking around' nerve-wracking as it is), we convinced our kids that Sea World was 'too busy' and decided, instead, to try out a new mall so Yours Truly could return a shirt.

Which sounds just as cool as 'Sea World' when you're four years old.

Favorite Shirt, ca. 2008 (feat. tax deduction #1)

Kris bought me a western-style shirt for Christmas from Sheplers - the clothing line that constructed my all-time favorite shirt (which I've worn religously since I was 19 - see above).

I hadn't been able to find another one like it since, so when she stumbled across this store recently, she promptly snatched up a shirt for me.  The fit and material was the exact same, but - seeing how I'm pretty anal when it comes to clothing - I wanted to see if they had the shirt in a different color.  So, with Seaworld out of the equation, so we decided to make a family outing out of it.

Shepler's is located in the Festival Bay Mall, which sits near Inter-national Drive, deep within the bowels of Tourist Hell.  We braced ourselves for the inevitable, knowing that anything touristy in Orlando means traffic congestion, packs of pale-skinned fanny-packers, and lots and lots of stupid people (see botched Seaworld venture above).

You can therefore imagine our shock and surprise upon entering the Festive Bay Mall and finding it utterly deserted. . .

The place was nearly empty.  Maybe a dozen other folks walking around.  That's it.  What freaked me out more than the lack of people, however, was the lack of stores.  You'd figure a shopping complex deep inside enemy territory would be chock-full of people ready to burn off the extra cash in their pockets, but nay - nearly all the storefronts we passed were barred up.  In fact, besides Sheplers, we really only saw three other places that displayed any sign of human life:  Outdoor World, a blacklit put-put course and arcade, and a Cinemaplex.

Seriously.

To make things creepier (if that were at all possible) was that the mall was in pristine condition - not like other decaying shopping centers I've had the misfortune of strolling through.  It was clean, well-lit, and looked like a decent place. . . just without, you know, people and stores.  Those individuals we did come across all had one thing in common:

They were all white.

Now, I'm no racist, but I think it's pretty fair to say that here in Central Florida, our demographics are fairly misrepresentative of the rest of the country.  We're an urban melting pot, and our diversity in ethnicity and culture reflects that.

 . . so why the hell do whites gravitate towards the Festival Bay Mall while all others avoid it like the plague?  What is it about Outdoor World and Shepler's Western Wear that screams 'WHITE PEOPLE!!' and discourages non-white folks from-

Oh.  Nevermind.

I guess I answered my own question.

She was pretty pissed we failed to get her this for Christmas.

This closed store was completely empty. . . except for a gigantic, yellow submarine.  So if any of you guys out there are in the market for a new submarine, and fancy yourself the color yellow, I believe I may be able to help you out. . .

Anyway, here's a few things I learned during our visit to White People Mall:

1.)  I should've been buying shirts at Shepler's my entire adult life.  Holy crap, that store rules.  Had I done so, my life would probably be way awesomer.  I'd probably be stunt man or a bounty hunter or something badass along those lines instead of a measly middle school history teacher.  And I'd probably drive a more bitchin' car.  With racing stripes.  AND I'd probably have a super-sweet mustache.

I'm just sayin'.

2.)  I need a gun.  That's the first thing that crossed my mind when I walked into the Outdoor World/Bass Pro Shop.  Not that I'm big on shooting guns, but whenever you pass by a wall display of hundreds of firearms it's nigh impossible to not imagine yourself shooting bad guys and dangerous animals and whatever other nastiness might try killing your family members.

Am I right, folks?

3.) I miss mid-Michigan.  Not all the time or anything, but whenever you find yourself surrounded by that redneck, boot-stompin', townie-vibe you can only find in a sporting goods store or a county fair, you can't help but miss rural Clare County.   The Festival Bay Mall succeeded, if only for an afternoon, in giving us a small escape into a Jay's Sporting Goods-eque world, and it was very nostalgic.  Of course, none of us Houghs are avid fishermen, hunters, or outdoor enthusiasts. . .

. . .but that's besides the point.

- Brian