Filed under Christmas

And It Arrives Me So Quickly

The stuff that goes through your mind when you’ve finished the work you woke up at 3 a.m. to start because you foolishly took a six-hour “30 minute nap” at 9 p.m.:

I was one of the victims of the Gawker hack. Kids, here’s a suggested best practice: “Don’t use the same user name and password across all the sites you visit, particularly if the user name is your email address. Also, your dentist knows when you’re lying about how often you floss.”

(An aside: is victim too strong a word? I feel like that’s a word that true crime victims sort of own, that I shouldn’t use; in fact, I typically refer to crime or disease victims as “survivors,” out of respect … in this case, “survivor of the Gawker hack, where the living will envy the dead” seemed a little excessive.)

Anyway, on Tuesday, I was apparently kind enough to make a tremendous offer to every one of my friends, colleagues, frenemies, enemies, clients, former clients, potential clients, colleagues, ex-colleagues, neighbors, ex-neighbors, relatives and ex-relatives, related to electronics and laptops:

Hi , what is up ?
Christmas is drawing near , have you got any idea about the gifts ?
What about a good electric product …
the laptop I get is really
high quality and it arrives me so quickly . Hope you can get what you
want on the site , too .

Most people recognized it as a scam and were kind enough to alert me to it, and again, I apologize to — well, pretty much everyone who has ever gotten an email from me before, because you got this too. That said, the number of emails I got back thinking this was legit (“Is this real?” “Yes, I am selling laptops on the side now, but decided not to use any of my marketing savvy, and instead used a writer for whom English is a fifth language. You should totally click through”) just reaffirms my conviction that if spam artists simply invested a few bucks for good copywriters, their hit rate would increase dramatically.

Other items of whimsy:

The other day, Gawker posted its list of “most annoying Christmas songs” (thanks for sharing, @healyjane) … and the author, Brian Moylan, shares my dislike for the shockingly-offensive chestnut “Baby It’s Cold Outside”:

Another entry in the “creepy lyrics” category is this song that is basically about date rape. A man is convincing a woman that she should stay at his house to cuddle and canoodle, but she really wants to leave. He doesn’t think no means no and is basically saying, “I won’t lend you a coat so your choice is to stay here and let me paw at you or try to get home and freeze.” By the time she sings, “Say, what’s in this drink?” we want to scream, “It’s a roofie!” and call the police.

However, I heard a version the other morning — June Carter Cash’s 1949 recording, with Homer and Jethro — that took this troubling song to another level, intimating that if she’d just stick around, they’d have some sort of hillbilly threesome. Then I found this video that took that song to yet another level — a 1969 performance from “The Johnny Cash Show”–  by adding a visual. (Note: the 1949 version has some excellent guitar work; if only they sold an instrumental version, or perhaps put their talents to work on a better song.)

What exactly where Homer and Jethro planning to do should their plan work? Shudder.

  • I think I only have another year or so of being able to pull the “I have Santa on speed dial” threat with my six year-old. I’m amazed it’s worked this long.
  • Parents, one of the most important skills you can teach your young children (other than being kind and thoughtful, and maybe some sort of recession-proof trade, like masonry) is how to wrap gifts. I never learned the correct way to do it, and have been having to either pay people to do it, or apologize as I hand the recipient their gift.
 

 

No, seriously, baby, it’s really, really cold outside. Really. C’mon, drink this. Go on, it’s fine …

I’m just back from a quick jaunt to North Carolina to visit a client. I now believe the Mason-Dixon Line should now be called the “Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays” line. Conservatives, there’s no overblown and largely imagined War on Christmas there! I feel a tremendous PC burden lifted from me as I have been aggressively wishing any and all a hearty “Merry Christmas” here in religiously diverse (hello Jews!) Newton today.

It is with that that I realized today I hadn’t banged out an entry for Harrison3.com about the holidays Christmas. (Which isn’t surprising since I’ve managed less than ten entries all year.) I had a great idea for a holiday Christmas blog entry … so great that apparently I’ve already written about it. Twice. It’s about …

(Right about now, my voice of self doubt personified would stare me square in the eye and say something like: “I guess it’s because you’re bereft of new ideas and horribly, horribly predictable. You’ll even make some joke about how you’re so predictable, you’d predict I’d say that, and try to chalk it up to some intellectual attempt at meta-humor.”)

Wow, I predicted that one right! Meta- … oh, fuck off, voice of self-doubt personified.

… Christmas music. Back when I used to actually write in this fine blog, I posted two items germane to that topic – last year, I took a look at how Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime” is not just the worst Christmas song ever, but could actually be one of the worst songs ever written. In 2007, I wrote about some of my favorite pop Christmas songs.

Crap. There goes that.

Or does it? Screw it, I’m still writing about Christmas music. Here are three intellectually lazy Christmas song superlatives, compiled primarily so I can say, “Hey, I wrote in my blog in consecutive weeks!”

Most Depressing Christmas Song:

“Please, Daddy, Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas,” words and music by Bill Danoff and Taffy Navert (made most famous by the late John Denver).

A few observations:

  • The chorus is the unsettling “Please Daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas, I don’t want to see my mama cry”; what isn’t said is the likely fear that Daddy is going to either pull a Billy Martin and crash his car into a tree on Christmas, or beat the hell out of Mommy;
  • John Denver himself had a well-chronicled drinking problem;
  • Someone named “Taffy” co-wrote this song.

Runner Up: “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,” words and music by Tommie Connor. The narrator seems surprisingly comfortable with having seen his mother making out with Kris Kringle, and plans to enable his mother’s escapades/whoredom by keeping this secret from Daddy. (I admit that I often get this song confused with the far superior “Santa Looked a Lot Like Daddy,” written by Buck Owens and Don Rich. Thematically similar, but much, much better. Although, upon reflection, in this particular song, the narrator seems comfortable with Mommy letting a strange man into the home — “he didn’t come down the chimney, so Mama must have let him in” … as if that was a regular occurence. Perhaps I am overthinking this. Also, this is a long parenthetical aside.)

Best Christmas Song Title That’s a Pun on the Title of a White Stripes’ Album:

“Get Behind Me Santa,” words and music by Sufjan Stevens

Runner Up: Pretty sure there isn’t one, unless someone figures out how to make “Icky Thump” sound Christmas-y.

Best “Song That Always Seemed Quaint and Playful to Me But Upon Further Reflection is Surprisingly Offensive”:

“Baby It’s Cold Outside,” words and music by Frank Loesser.

I was listening to this chestnut the other day (as sung by Dean Martin, that lovable alcoholic) when a friend came into my office and said, “Oh, it’s the Christmas date rape song.”

I started to defend the song as a product of its times (like Ricky spanking Lucy – socially-acceptable comedy gold!) but then stepped back and used the InterWebs to check out the lyrics. At its heart, it’s a classic boy-meets-girl-and-tries-to-shame-and/or-roofie-her-into-spending-the-night story …

  1. Boy wants girl to stay.
  2. Girl demurs, wants to go home, fears what neighbors/family will say (apparently, she lives with around a dozen members of her extended family; it was a simpler time).
  3. Boy convinces girl to have another drink, puts music on
  4. Girl intimates there may actually be something in the drink (“Say, what’s in this drink?”)
  5. Boy threatens girl with worst-case scenarios (“What if you caught pneumonia and died?”) while trying to paint himself as the real victim here (“What’s the sense in hurting my pride” and “Making my life-long sorrow”)
  6. Eventually, girl sees the logic of his tremendous argument and stays.

One has to imagine that if the song continued another five minutes or so (Editor’s Note: hmm, perhaps you are revealing too much about your diminished capabilities with that time estimate – why not say 15 minutes … no, wait, two-and-a-half-hours), it would end with boy talking about how he really had to get up early for work, and hey, it stopped snowing, you can probably go now, and that there’s a cab voucher in the front hallway by your coat.

That said, the only way the song could be more uncomfortable is if :

  1. There were a lyric about “You should really sniff this rag/this chloroform is making me gag”; or
  2. It were mashed up with “Please Daddy, Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas” (“Please, Baby, Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas, As It’s Cold Outside, And We All Remember What Happened to My Daddy”).

Runner Up: Wow, until someone (are you listening, Sufjan?) writes a touching Christmas song about serial killer/clown/rapist/small businessman/amateur painter John Wayne Gacy, I think this one pretty much has this honor to itself.

Big Boy, Big Wheel


Colin on Big Wheel
Originally uploaded by eharrison3

I got around to posting some photos from Christmas to my Flickr account. Click on the photo of Colin using his big brother's new Big Wheel to see some shots — most are relatively mundane but cute and extremely special to me, thus making this entry just narcissistic enough to be blogworthy. My memories aren't real and valid until I share them via social media!

(Sorry, it's been a long day)

Fa la la

I was going to sit down and write about my favorite pop Christmas songs, but evidently I did that last year. Oh well. I do have two additions:

Weezer's new Christmas album is outstanding. It's Christmas Standards meets the "blue album" or even "the green album." As long as it's any album but the crappy "Make Believe," it's fine.

The worst pop Christmas song of all time is "Wonderful Christmastime" by Paul McCartney. Listen to the lazy synthesizers and what passes as lyrics:

The moon is right
The spirits up

We're here tonight

And that's enough

Simply having a wonderful christmastime

Simply having a wonderful christmastime

The party's on

The feeling's here

That only comes

This time of year

Seriously?
He took *maybe* all of four minutes to write it. It's even worse than "novelty" songs like "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer" and "Dominic the Christmas Donkey," each of which makes me want to rip off my ears. Anyway, it sucks, and that's that.

Posted more photos from Christmas

From Christmas 2006

I have posted a number of pictures from Christmas, including the day with my parents, Sean and Wei and Wang Tai-Tai, as well as the day with my cousins. Click on the link next to the photo above of the Harrison boys (I look just like my brother except being 8 inches taller and 95 lbs. heavier).

8,000 calories … and to all, a good night …

From Christmas 2006

To everyone, a Merry Christmas!

We had a great few days out with my parents in Shrewsbury. Last night was my semi-annual visit to church (I go religiously! Twice a year) — the boy actually made it until the homily until repeatedly announcing "I peed my pants," despite the fact that he was wearing a diaper, and thus, it wasn’t really that important — followed by the Open House at the Zelnicks in the "old neighborhood" (where I lived from 1977 to 1992) and the multitude of babies now there. I am disturbed by slow demise of our house since the "new" (OK, they have now lived there as long as we did) owners took over … and come on, you really shouldn’t have *both* a plastic manger and plastic Santa outside unless you’re consciously going for kitsch … but that is neither here nor there.

From Christmas 2006

Today we had a nice day at my parents — along with Sean, Wei and Wang Tai-Tai. Jacob really enjoyed the act of gift-opening … big hits were the Thomas-themed train set (with real tunnel!), a tool set, a tool workbench, some classic TinkerToys (Uncle Sean enjoyed them as much as he did), the 2006 Hess Truck (ok, I enjoyed that one more than he did), *another* train set of the wooden variety (he now has home-and-away train sets, with Thomas staying at my parents) and a bouncing Tigger that Wang Tai-Tai enjoyed mimicking. I enjoyed seeing Jacob interact with everyone — playing with Tinkertoys with my brother, reading stories with my mom and washing his hands with my Dad (and proudly coming into the kitchen and telling my mother to smell his clean hands). It was a very nice day.

I also learned how to say "you’re welcome" in Chinese, and Sean tricked me into telling Wang Tai-Tai that I am very, very stupid. I will exact my revenge. But a fun day for Jacob with his parents, grandparents, aunt and uncle and honorary great-aunt. We also enjoyed a wonderful spiral-cut ham (is there any other kind of spiral-cut ham), sweet-potatoes with marshmallows and a delicious cobbler, among other items. I consumed probably in excess of 8,000 calories.

Although it is crass to brag about "loot," I will say I was the lucky recipient of a number of great gifts this year, including a new moleskine journal and "The Ville, Somerville" t-shirt from Juliet, an excellent Billy Bragg box-set retrospective and Hockey Night in Canada t-shirt from Sean and Wei and … very cool … gift certificates to Jacob’s favorite, Redbones, from my mom and dad.

Although fama PR is technically closed this week, and we still don’t have an office to go back to, I’ll be working some each day — the fire really has thrown off the end-of-year slowdown. This year also marks the first time I’ve ever been fired by a client +/- 4 days from Christmas. Luckily I don’t get to hear why I got fired until a concall on January 9. Thanks guys!

I’m going to try to sneak in a movie around lunchtime on Thursday or Friday so if anyone 1) has any suggestions or 2) is free and wants to see a movie with me, let me know …

Only one way to cut a ham

Ham

For my money, the best-cut ham is a spiral-cut ham.

Mail Mayhem

Typically I have all of my e-commerce shipped to fama, given that there’s no one at home to sign for packages during the day. This year, with the fire, there has been the added wrinkle that for a brief window, our packages were not getting delivered to One Broadway, so I’ve had a few gifts that are somewhere between the purveyor and me, but no where to be found in-between. I believe FedEx is holding them hostage. I also learned firsthand the quirks of buying from "Amazon Vendors" rather than Amazon — I got a sweet deal on the 2004 Red Sox DVD collection I’m getting for a friend … and when the package came the other day, it contained John Coltrane’s "Heavyweight Collection" and a shipping invoice for a woman named Melanie in California. My name ain’t Melanie and I don’t live in California. I hope that [REDACTED] is a jazz fan.

Also, for the first time I have relied this year on the time-tested model of "only sending cards when I receive cards," as I was sick of sending out 90 cards and getting back around 40. I realize the spirit of the holidays are giving, not receiving … well, screw that, I almost died in a fire (excuse is nearly expired, need to hurry up and get it in a few more times).

Here’s where this distribution model falls apart:

  1. What if the other party is using the same model? Nary a card will be sent.
  2. If the other party is a procrastinator and sends cards on, say, 12/24, they won’t get theirs until New Year’s, and then my dirty little secret re: my shameful holiday-card distribution model will be out in the open.
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