My two favorite songs apart from White Christmas by der Bingle, have become Robert Downey’s version of I wish I was a river, which I’m sure isn’t the real title, and Chris Rea’s Driving Home for Christmas. I sort of stop what I’m doing every time they come on the radio and hum along.
Same with the TV…when White Christmas, Holiday Inn, and Bells of St Mary’s come on, I watch them, and after so many years, I almost know the dialogue by heart, but it doesn’t matter. I still watch them. (And when did they start being politically correct and cut the blackface number out of Holiday Inn for Lincoln’s Birthday????? I noticed that a couple of years ago. Idiots.) A Wonderful Life always gets a tear at the end, but for some reason that and Miracle on 34th Street never ranked as high in my viewing book as the other three. Never did like Scrooge. There are some obscure Christmasy movies that I like, that aren’t really Christmas movies…like Pocketful of Miracles. It was Ann Margaret’s first big movie, and also starred Peter Falk in one of his funniest roles ever. I laugh out loud each and every time I watch that movie. Auntie Mame, with Rosalind Russell is another oldie but goodie, and while it tries to stay faithful, sort of, to the book, the gut-laughing humour of the escapades in the book don’t quite make it to the screen. If you haven’t read the book, I highly recommend it. It’s my *read when you’re in the dumps and need a really good pickemeup laugh at the world and just get on with it* book. I’ve had my copy since high school and the binding is falling apart, but the words are just as great as ever.
I’ve talked about what I do in the way of traditional cooking for Christmas, but there’s one thing that Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without, and that’s chocolate covered maraschino cherries. Oh. My. God. I love them. I remember the first time I had one…I was sitting in my dad’s lap and someone had given a box of them to my mother over the holidays. He told me “you have to bite the top off first, carefully, then tip all the runny stuff onto your tongue. Then you fish in and get the cherry out, and the last thing is to pop the empty chocolate shell with all the creamy stuff into your mouth.” So it was like eating three chocolates in one. I still eat them like that, in three stages. And it’s something I always found in my stocking Christmas morning. Clever Santa, knowing the kind of chocolates I liked. That snippet of inside information was passed on to my husband, who made sure there was a box in my stocking after we were married. And it became the gift my son bought for me with his own hard earned money when he was little. There was one Christmas, only one, when both the hub and the son forgot to buy me some. Thinking back, it was around the time the hub became Stupid and had other things on his mind *snort*, but that didn’t excuse the Clone, who actually went pale when he realized that neither he nor his pre-occupied father had remembered to get me any. I mean really. Seriously. I was traumatized for the rest of the day. LOL The onus this year, of course, is on the son, so we’ll see if he remembers. And no, I don’t really like them any other time of the year. It’s a special memory I hoard of my dad and I sharing something Christmas morning.
Last Christmas sort of sucked in general. It was the first Christmas on my own after 37 years of marriage. The first time ever I had a fake Christmas tree. The first time I woke up alone Christmas morning. Talk about a trauma. Christmas has always been my favorite time of year and anyone who knows me, knows I go overboard with everything this time of year. Last year, I couldn’t get into the mood or the spirit. This year, I’ve got the knee thing holding me back a little, but the decorations have all been hauled out and put up, the tree actually doesn’t look too too bad, although next year it’s getting a bazillion more lights. I’m spending Christmas Eve at the Clone’s house, so I’ll wake up to the sound of the munchkins tearing into wrapping paper. My cousin and his family will be over Chrismas Day, hopefully not walking on egg shells this year *g* ( no one actually knew what to say to me last year, but this year it’s all good) And Boxing Day will be the usual happy chaos.
The only think I missed, in fact, was the annual Saturday Before Christmas party, and right up until I got the call for knee surgery, it was scheduled to happen again. Last year was the first one of those missed in 38 years. Extenuating circumstances *snort*. But it took surgery to knock it out again LOL.
If I don’t get a chance to blog again before the Big Day, I wish each and everyone out there a Merry Christmas. And pardon my bluntness, but fuck the political correctness. It isn’t Happy Holidays. It’s Merry Christmas and always will be!!!!!!