When I was younger, I had this nasty habit of making Christmas music mixes. For some reason, my mother always thought that my majoring in music and being a professional musician would mean that these mixes would be tasteful, making our holiday like a Hallmark commercial or old-timey holiday card.
We would be a family in a Norman Rockwell painting!
But alas, I’m a terrible human being.
Mom would inevitably say, “this is a really good mix, Joanie.” This comment would have sweetness and a little surprise in it.
Then the next song would be Cats singing Jingle Bells.
I don’t know why I find that so funny. But I do.
Cats singing Jingle Bells would be fast forwarded, or skipped to the next track. Which would of course be I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.
And then my mix, Christmastastic (insert year) would be taken out of the CD player, or off of the Ipod speaker, and discarded. And forgotten. Because I’d do the same thing the following year.
I can no longer do this yearly, as I switch years with the in-laws. Because of their musical acumen, I’ve always been afraid to be so tacky as to inflict Cats singing Jingle Bells on them.
And in some ways, I’ve grown out of it. I no longer feel the need to ruin a moment for my family while we’re opening presents. So next year, I’ll include better music. Put all those music degrees to use.
And share with them, as I do with you, Malcom Dalglish’s Appalachian Christmas.