Bing, Nat and Rosemary et al

Ok, I have held off long enough, but it is that time of year when I need to lay down my Christmas music rules.  And I don't care if you agree or disagree, these are my rules and if you don't like them, don't ride in my car.  Don't go caroling with me.  Do mess with my CD collection.
There is a finite number of people that can sing a good Christmas song.  There is the obvious, Bing, Dean and Frank.  And all of those crooners that sound like those three.  Johnny Mathis, he's got a mighty fine voice. Nat King Cole, let me say that one again, Nat King Cole.  Rosemary Clooney.  Burl Ives. Louis Armstrong.  Boris Karloff.  OK, that may be a stretch, but he does the best rendition of You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch. 
The Mormon Tabernacle Choir is an excellent choice for those big religious numbers especially the Hallelujah Chorus.  They do a nice job with that one but so did The Immaculate Conception Catholic Church Adult Choir from my youth.  I loved, loved, loved it when Mom and Dad practiced that at home.  I need to take a moment to remember that.
For the most part, there is no one alive today that ought to make a Christmas album using new material.  All the good ones have been done and going out on a limb to try something new is not necessary.  The Michael Buble's of the world can sing the classics, but this new stuff...not needed.  I will also suggest an end to all ridiculously sappy songs that are about Christmas shoes, Christmas pants, Christmas cardigan sweaters with elbow patches.
If you are so inclined to a search of all the artists that have made Christmas albums, you will find that Billy Idol has recorded his own version of the classics.  I love Billy Idol and I love White Christmas.  But this?  This is what keeps Bing Crosby from resting in peace (that and some other child rearing issues).  There is a whole CD of Monster Christmas Ballads.  I don't think there was a need for this CD.
When it comes to country music and Christmas, I am on the fence.  Gene Autry has one of the greatest songs ever, so great that a movie was made from it.  And from that movie came all kinds of trinkets and figures, toys and villages that now fill my dad's and my own house at Christmas!  Martina McBride, Faith Hill and Cary Underwood are remarkable.  But then there is the other side of country music, the too twangy.  When I feel like I should be knee deep in horse poop instead of reindeer poop, well, it's too country. 
When I think about my collection of CDs, I think of what is missing.  From my dad's collection is, and my memory will be fuzzy, an album with Jack Benny on the front.  There is a bit where Jack Benny plays Jingle Bells on the violin, just a few opening notes.  Dad had made me a cassette of that album, but who has a cassette player now days?  I don't even have one in my car.   And my How the Grinch Stole Christmas read along album.  I remember putting that on the record player, already in my pj's, book in my lap.  It was like having the movie on DVD!
I love the religious and the secular.  The serious and the silly.  I love how the CD's of the old classics kept the scratchy record sound.  I love that I can hear my dad singing right along with Bing and Dean.  Christmas music is such a gift.  It takes me back to the record player and the red record.  Yes, it was a red record.  The cover of the album was kind of like a stain glass window.  It was so exotic!  And we could dance, but we couldn't jump because the needle would jump. 
When we got M-TV, Bing Crosby and David Bowie's rendition of Little Drummer Boy was in high rotation.  I don't know if I liked the song but I liked that my dad would tolerate David Bowie for a moment because he was singing with Bing Crosby.  Now the song is just another Christmas warm fuzzy from my youth.
Another song from my youth that I DO LOVE is Christmas Bells.  And it must be the version that has The Red Baron and Snoopy in it.  Snoopy is battling The Red Baron over World War One France.  It must have been Christmas, 1917.  Terribly cold, Snoopy had ice on his wings.  It didn't look good for him.  The Baron, it was a Christmas miracle, did not shoot Snoopy even though he had him in his sights.  Snoopy had to land behind enemy lines, a goner for sure, thought Snoopy.  But the Baron had other plans.  With a toast and a "Merry Christmas Mein Friend!" the Baron flew off.  Oh, they would meet another day, but on Christmas, there was peace.  What a freakin classic that song is. 
And now, my own kids seek out the classics.  The crooners and the Muppets are what classifies as classics to them!  Ashlyn is a bit more of a purist and does not start listening to Christmas music until after Thanksgiving, but not Hayley, she is tuned into 104.1 as soon as they make the Holiday switch.  My favorite is when all three of them sing the songs from Muppet Christmas Carol. 
There is one song that does not meet any of my criteria to be an acceptable Christmas song.  It is not sung by any of the approved; it is sung by many of the unapproved.  It's sappy.  It's maudlin.
It's Christmas time, there's no need to be afraid
At christmas time, we let in light and we banish shade
And in our world of plenty, we can spread a smile of joy!
Throw your arms around the world at christmas time
But say a prayer - pray for the other ones
At christmas time
it's hard, but when you're having fun
There's a world outside your window
Go on, finish the song...you know you want to!

Harlow Louise

Tonight I want to talk about my big, little girl, Harlow.  Harlow is an American Mastiff.  She is six now and weighs 170 pounds.  My road to Harlow was a bittersweet one.  It all started when I was randomly dog searching online and came across The Flying W Farms.  Flying W Farms breeds horses and dogs. The  American Mastiff breed was originated here.  The breeder bred English Mastiffs to Anatolian Shepards to create a massive drier mouthed dog.   I announced to Danny that this was the next dog I wanted.  And that was the end of that.  Until December of 2003 when Danny's National Guard unit was called up to Iraq and Danny told me to "get my dog." 
I began an email correspondence with the owner of the farm and was approved for adoption of a female.  I had decided to name her LRS Louise.  LRS was the acronym for Danny's Guard unit.  It seemed appropriate.  My sister and I drove out in June 2004 to pick her up from Ohio! 
LRS was a beautiful little thing.  She loved Barron, followed him everywhere.  She was the joy we needed during Danny's deployment.  We were awfully happy for those few weeks.  Then LRS got sick, very sick.  And her little body could not fight whatever it was that was attacking her.  And she died in the night at the vet clinic.  She is buried in the backyard. 
The breeder offered me a refund or another puppy.  I took the puppy.  This was done as a pure act of kindness from the breeder because LRS's death had nothing to do with her breeding or care prior to her living with us.  In fact, the cause of her death was probably due to poisoning.  Our best guess was that someone in the neighborhood had put out poison.  A wild animal got into it and then came through our yard.  LRS may have shared a water dish, or sniffed something up in the yard. 
Twice, we were notified that our puppy was ready.  But both of those puppies were not meant to be ours.  One turned out to be a boy and the other was accidentally killed by her mom.  It wasn't until the fall of 2005 that we finally got Harlow. 
Harlow is an Olde English word for troops on the hill.  Danny's unit spent a great deal of time in the mountains of Northern Iraq.  I wanted to keep her name in tradition with LRS's.  And they share a middle name.  LRS and Harlow were also cousins. 
Harlow started out as a very social puppy.  She went where we went as much as we could.  Soccer games and Petsmart.  Walks around the neighborhood, Cedar Rapids.  She loved the attention and the new adventures.  Then it got cold and she got too big to go easily to all those places.  When spring arrived, Harlow did not want anything to do with new people or places.  A walk was usually out of the question.  She would do pretty good if Barron was with her, but on her own, she was a nervous wreck.  I found some help in a dog trainer book and we could have some good walks, but all in all, Harlow was now home bound.  There were even occassions where we would get to the corner and she would stop.  Outweighed by 30 pounds, I didn't have much choice but to end the walk and go home.
When new people came around, there was a very long introduction process.  Harlow did not want anyone to approach her.  She would do the approaching, slow and unsure.  There are some people that have seen her for six years and have never petted her.  We have learned to accommodate her and it seems to work.  She stays in our room if there is going to be a lot of activity.  People respect her and make no sudden movements toward her or surprise her from behind.   Harlow gets plenty of love from those that she knows and she seems completely satisfied with that.
Harlow and Barron were very good buddies and when Barron died, I was terrified that Harlow would be soon to follow.  But she bounced back ok without him.  We had several good months where Harlow did just fine.  But recently, there have been episodes of I don't know what.  She has freak outs over people she knows and loves.  She has lost control of her bladder from time to time.  Sometimes I don't think she hears me, I have to tap her butt to get her attention.  There are days where she paces and paces.  Days where she follows me everywhere.  Sometimes, she reminds me of my mom when my mom was sick.  Harlow just seems confused. 
But this girl of mine.  This great big little girl is so very sweet.  Her head must weigh 20 pounds and she will rest all of it in my lap.  She will put her nose ever so close to me, prickly whiskers tickling my cheek, moist exhale in my face.  Harlow often has a furrowed brow, like she is deep in thought or confused.  I go with the latter.  Harlow likes to hold hands and sometimes, she likes to stand chest to chest.  Only she is taller than me so her head rests on top of mine.  Harlow is the only one in this family that can see what is on top of the refrigerator.
Harlow bounds about the back yard.  She used to look like a horse when she ran, before she put on her weight.  She looked like Scar from the Lion King when she walked.   Harlow adores Jacob.  She is his own personal pillow pet.  Harlow loves to be there with him when he watches TV.  With Ashlyn and Hayley, she just kind of presents herself for love and attention.  They will be busy doing whatever it is that they are doing and Harlow will decide to get up, walk over and say hello.

Tonight, Harlow is sick.  She cannot control her bladder.  She whines a lot.  She paces around and never seems comfortable.  I thought about taking her to the emergency vet, but they don't know Harlow and Harlow does not know them.  Unlike Barron, Harlow does not see a friend in everyone and she fears new and different places.  So we are going to wait this out and go to the regular vet in the morning.  I am nervous.  I don't know what is wrong with my girl.  I don't look forward to the list of tests that need to be run.  My stomach flips at the thought of the bill.  And I know that I shouldn't be thinking about the cost right now, but Barron's final bill in April ate up all the excess vet emergency fund that I had, and then some, so another hefty vet bill at Christmas time is weighing heavy on me, too.  But it is the thought of something serious being wrong with this big headed girl of mine that is making me cry tonight.  I know that I won't have her long as it is, a mastiff's life expectancy is around eight years.  But I already lost Barron this year, I am not ready to even thing about losing her. 
So my prayers are to Saint Francis tonight.  For Harlow's health and well being.  For my own good judgement tomorrow.  And for a simple diagnosis with an easy treatment both for Harlow and me. 

A Charlie Brown Christmas

Ashlyn is on the couch watching A Charlie Brown Christmas.  I can hear it from the family room.  35 years ago, I would have been in there watching it, too.  But I am spoiled now and with the slightest twitch of the wrist, I can slide that DVD in the player and enjoy the ridiculous antics of Snoopy on the ice rink any time I like.
But it wasn't always like that.  When I was a kid, this time of year meant a lot of things, including knowing when the specials were on.  With TV Guide in hand, I would sit on the couch and carefully page through to find A Charlie Brown Christmas, Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red Nosed  Reindeer, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, How the Grinch Stole Christmas and if I were really lucky, A Year Without a Santa Claus.   There were other specials, too.  There was one with mice and a clock.  There was The Little Matchgirl and The Little Drummer Boy, too.  But these weren't as good as the first ones I mentioned.  Luckily, they were usually aired back to back on Sunday nights.  And with only three channels to check in the TV Guide, I never missed them!
I also had a softcover book of A Charlie Brown Christmas that my oldest brother gave me.  I still have it.  The cover is torn and the pages are dogeared, but it is one of my most favorite books.  I also had the book and album of How The Grinch Stole Christmas.  It was narrated by Boris Karloff and was fantastic.
There was also a random singer or movie star that would have a Christmas Special.  There would be a few skits, a special guest or two and lovely music.  Mom and Dad usually watched that show with me.  I don't remember any specific shows, but Julie Andrews and Paul Williams come to mind. 
After we got cable and HBO, I was introduced to Freddy the Freeloader starring Red Skelton and Emmit Otter's Jug Band Christmas created by Jim Henson.  We watched Freddy the Freeloader for the first time in twenty years last year and it still is as sweet and warm as I remember. 
My kids have added to the must see Christmas movies.  There is now Elf and A Christmas Story.  A Christmas Story is older, but somehow, I never saw that one as a kid.  We also watch National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation quite faithfully.  A Muppet Christmas Carol is the sweetest Christmas movie I know.  Even after watching it a trillion times, knowing Tiny Tim makes it in the end makes me smile.  I think the fact that Tiny Tim is played by a little frog makes it all the more appealing.
My first Christmas in Southern California, with Danny away and me and the kitties making the best of it, I bought my first holiday movie.  White Christmas starring Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney.  Two of the greatest Christmas crooners the God ever made.  I watched this movie every day.  I had it on constantly because it reminded me of home and of Danny far away.  And Bing Crosby's rendition of White Christmas is my hands down favorite Christmas song ever. 
I think these movies offer a trip down memory lane, a sweet escape, an hour or two where the real world is shut off and a winter wonderland prevails.  When the opening number starts to play, all of us gravitate to the family room.  The couch gets a little more crowded.  And our spirits get that needed holiday boost. 

Dividing Ding Dongs

I am the youngest of five children.  The oldest, a boy was born in 1960.  He was followed by a girl, another boy and another girl in 1962, 1963 and 1965.  In 1969, I was born.  My birth really screwed things up for my family.  The three bedroom house was no longer evenly divisible.  The Ding Dong box was now divied up unfairly.  The kitchen table got really crowded.   
Sometimes being much younger than my siblings made me feel like the odd duck.  I couldn't play with them because they were so much older.  My nearest sister did play Barbies with me, but not for a really long time because she was nearly five years older.  So just as I was really getting into Barbie, she was on her way out.   My oldest sister might pop in to do Barbie's hair, but she never stopped in to play.
I used to hang out in my brothers' room when I was little.   Their room was in the basement and before it was officially a room, just an area they goofed off in, I would roller skate on one side of the basement while they built models on the other.  The old transistor radio would be on and I clearly remember doing an interpretive skate to Barry Manilow's  I Write the Songs.  They didn't seem to mind me too much, and later, in my early teens, hanging out with my brother was often a life saver.  But again, the age difference was a big difference.
Being the youngest brought me a lot of extras.  After everyone else moved out, Dad and Mom could pay attention to what I was doing and what I was usually doing was wrong.  When the older ones would come home late, maybe slightly intoxicated, Dad would be asleep on the floor and I would be watching Creature Feature.  They would come (stumble) in and go get something to eat in the kitchen.  Then they would go upstairs.  When they reached the top of the stairs is when they would tell me to wake up Dad.  I had no idea what the real situation was.  When I was older, Dad would be waiting up for me or worse, out looking for me.  I got in trouble a lot, but it was because I got caught a lot.  It is a lot easier for a dad to watch one kid than five!
But, I got the station wagon when Mom and Dad bought a new car.  I also got a lot of other perks that the others missed out on.  When it was just me at home, eating out became a more frequent option.  I got to paint my room any color I wanted.  I didn't have to share the TV with anyone unless a game was on.
I often asked my parents if I was planned.  I know I wasn't.  Who is crazy enough to want one more after almost five years and a pretty good balancing act.  Dad tells me that none of us were planned and Mom would tell me that we were all a gift from God.  I think they were just taking the kids as they came, but probably thought that they were done after the four. 
The ruined Ding Dong division still comes up in conversation, but I never remember Mom buying Ding Dongs.  Though the kitchen table was crowded.  We had a perfectly fine dining room table that we never used, we just squeezed in around the too small kitchen table.  And in all fairness, my oldest brother moved out when I was eight so I didn't screw things up for that long.
I think back and know that there were times when I really struggled with the idea that I was not wanted.  That I was an accident instead of a surprise.  I don't think my parents were ever unhappy about having me.  I do think some of my siblings sometimes were!  It's funny how those feeling can stay and how easily it is to fall back into those old roles. 
My own children were sort of planned.  Ashlyn was not not planned.  We were going to take that first one whenever it happened.  Hayley was the most planned.  Jacob was planned, then shelved then SURPRISE!  None of them ruined the Ding Dong box, in fact, I try to buy things that come in tens so we each get two!

Thankful

Danny, who loves me in spite of and because of all my unique qualities.
Ashlyn, Hayley, Jacob, who entertain me immensely.
Barron, who was the bestest dog friend I ever had.
Harlow, who is the sweetest, most confused little girl I know.
Sophie, Elsa, Emmitt who add an element of ridiculous in my life that I thoroughly enjoy.
My family in Eastern Iowa and Western United States who support and tolerate me.
My friends, who find me terribly funny.
The police and firefighters et all, who keep me safe.
The military, who keep watch.
The Dallas Cowboys, who pulled out a win in the last three seconds.
Walgreens, who continue to employ me even though I am a pain in the ass.

An Evening with Old Friends

Tonight we spent a couple of hours with some old friends.  We all went to the new Muppet Movie and it was wonderful.  There was singing and dancing and cameos and ill timed explosions.  There were a few new friends like Walter and the cactus, but most importantly, there was Kermit. 
Kermit the Frog has been a friend of mine for as long as I can remember.  I wasn't a viewer of Sesame Street, but was a faithful follower of the Muppet Show.  I used to watch it with my oldest brother, Bobby.  I don't know who enjoyed it more!  There was always the anticipation of what Gonzo would do in the opening number.  It was never as planned, I am sure.  And the guest hosts, that had to be the highlight of their careers. 
Then there was the Muppet Movie.  I recall seeing that in the theater, maybe the World downtown, but most likely the Plaza out at Linndale.  The opening notes of the banjo are some of the sweetest notes ever written.  Every time I hear those notes, I cannot help but smile.  My heart is warmed and my soul is rejuvenated.  Though in the Muppet Movie, I always felt so bad for Jack.  He was just a moment too late to catch a ride to Hollywood.  But he made it in the end!
There were other Muppet movies, but none that tugged at my heart like A Muppet Christmas Carol.  It was the first Muppet production after the death of Jim Henson.  I remember Jim Henson's death in 1990.  It was like losing a true friend.  Because losing Jim Henson also meant losing Kermit.  Watching A Muppet Christmas Carol for the first time was hard because the voice was not quite the same.  My kids couldn't tell the difference and enjoyed the movie as it was.  But I knew that there was a different man behind the frog and it was bittersweet.  But A Muppet Christmas Carol has now become such a favorite.  I probably watch it a dozen times between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  There is something about singing fruits and penguins that really cuts to the core of Charles Dickens message of love and friendship.
I have seen Kermit at the Smithsonian and last year in Chicago.  I cannot describe what it was like to walk around the corner and see my old friend.  And to share that with Danny, Ashlyn, Hayley and Jacob.  At the exhibit in Chicago, it practically took my breath away to see him sitting there.  And then turn another corner and see Rowlf, the Manamana Muppets, and Bert and Ernie.  
Seeing the Muppets tonight on the big screen felt good.  It brought back such a flood of happy times and was really what I needed as I head into such a busy period of the year.  It is hard to be irritable when Animal is there ready to play the drums, breathing heavy, furrowing his brow.  Or when Kermit rallies the gang with one of his amazing pet talks.  I feel very lucky to have grown up with the Muppets and I think my kids feel the same way.  In the words of Kenny Ascher and Paul Williams through the voice of Kermit the Frog...
Life's like a movie, write your own ending
Keep believing, keep pretending
We've done just what we set out to do.
Thanks to the lovers, the dreamers, and you.

Time Warp

It’s 10:24 at my house on Tuesday night.  And it feels like old times.  The kids are in the family room singing songs in odd voices, changing up the words, maybe dancing a bit.  I am in the dining room, just listening and being thankful.  Thankful that my kids are hanging out together.  They could have all chosen to have gone their separate ways tonight.  They could be with old friends, boyfriends or video games, but they have chosen to be together singing show tunes and Jason Mraz.

When you read the ‘about me’ portion of this blog, blessed is a word I use.  And this is partly why.  Danny and I had three kids in four years, three months.  Danny was five when his sisters were born and my closest sister was four and a half when I was born.  We were a little more ambitious, or crazy.  Anyway, we wanted out family to be friends.  There were times when that wasn’t the case, but as everyone has grown, they have grown closer.  I envy the inside jokes, the secret language, the memorized songs.  I didn’t have nearly enough of that with my own siblings. 

Last night, the girls watched Sleeping Beauty.  The Swan Princess will probably be put into rotation before the week is over.  These are childhood moments that have stayed with them.  A shared love of blonde princess’s and strikingly handsome prince’s with excellent archery skills.

They have always laughed more then they have loathed.  They get on each other’s nerves, they pick fights, and they go off and pout.  But they are bound to each other.  There is this shared experience of making fun of Danny and me.  Supporting each other when the going got tough.  And in their lives, it has gotten tough a time or two.  They have been there for each other through deployments, sicknesses and deaths. 

I have three children who know all the words to “Time Warp” and they know most of the actions.  And they are doing the time warp again two rooms over.  Years from now, they will have this moment to fall back on.  If their friendship should falter, they will always have these times.  And years from now, at a Thanksgiving far in the future, this song just might get played.  Kitchen towels will be set aside, babies will be passed to grandpas and the wishbone will have to wait…because it’s a step to the left and then a jump to the right…