Darlene Love was born in 1938. As one of Phil Spector's darlings, her sweet billowing voice made history on the 1963 Album A Christmas Gift for You. Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) is urgent, playful, melancholy and jubilant all at once. It's been much-covered over the years, but nobody does it like Darlene. She's appeared on the Letterman Show to sing this tune every December 23rd since 1986.
1993's performance was the earliest I could drag up on the 'Tube.
What a weave! Also, I am pretty sure my Mom had that outfit. Very elementary school teacher.
Fast-forward to 1995. The height of NTBR authors' adolescent dweebery and a time when real women wore shoulder pads:
Ummm, is that the same weave? And I am pretty sure the pants/blouse are '93 repeats. The strings are an interesting touch, as are the extra white folks in the choir. Darlene's final improvisation is very Mavis Staples, in all the right ways.
And here is the number from the millenial Noel:
How does Darlene get sleeker and hotter as she delves into her 60s? The best is yet to come, folks. In terms of backup singers, what's with the Air Force whiffenpoofs? This footage pre-dates 9/11 and so I'm surprised to see such national defence-oriented pop culture leanings prior to the dawn of a regretful decade of American military adventurism and corresponding television propagandizing.
2005: The year the Ghost of Etta James Past paid a visit to Darlene's CBS Dressing Room:
This woman is 67 years old in this clip! Despite remaining awed by Darlene's pipes, I may need therapy after seeing Paul Shaffer's hand gesture when discussing French Horn.
2009: it gets better with age
This 71 year old still knows how to wail. In a short red miniskirt and heels to boot.
My new all-consuming Christmas wish is to see her live.
A Simple Request
7.12.10
So, Toronto got festive this year and decided to host its own "authentic" European Christmas market in (where else?) The Distillery District.
Now, I've wanted to get over to the continent for the yuletide for some time now and the main attraction is the markets. All I want is to see some beautiful (or elderly, not picky) natives bundled up for the harsh Eastern bloc festive days, maybe get a strudel or two and get liquored up on the most fortified wine humanly possible.
However, much like most of the endeavours my native city undertakes, it was a disappointment. Oh, don't get me wrong... there were festive offerings. But the ones that were authentic were either ridiculously overpriced (really Quebecois baker? your sugar pie is only $26??) or pre-packaged and thus lacking cheer.
The rest was just the usual trendy, overpriced yuppy Toronto fare. A kids' choir that looked simultaneously cold, frightened and disinterested... a peppy Salvation Army band with a bin overflowing with Lauriers and a gorgeous three-storey Christmas tree that was leaning most definitely towards Aunt Nancy's.
The whole night was capitulated by me stating "who's a guy gotta blow around here to get some mulling spices?" within earshot of more than a few children.
The few highlights included a complimentary box of European chocolate treats and the Slovenians hocking custard donuts and fruit teas that quickly became my best friends.
That said, however, the rest seemed lacking, though festive enough to not seem like a giant waste of time.
But... Toronto... the next time you staff a "treats of Holland" stand with a fake Dutchman, I will have to destroy you. Trust me, I'll know.. I always know.
Now, I've wanted to get over to the continent for the yuletide for some time now and the main attraction is the markets. All I want is to see some beautiful (or elderly, not picky) natives bundled up for the harsh Eastern bloc festive days, maybe get a strudel or two and get liquored up on the most fortified wine humanly possible.
However, much like most of the endeavours my native city undertakes, it was a disappointment. Oh, don't get me wrong... there were festive offerings. But the ones that were authentic were either ridiculously overpriced (really Quebecois baker? your sugar pie is only $26??) or pre-packaged and thus lacking cheer.
The rest was just the usual trendy, overpriced yuppy Toronto fare. A kids' choir that looked simultaneously cold, frightened and disinterested... a peppy Salvation Army band with a bin overflowing with Lauriers and a gorgeous three-storey Christmas tree that was leaning most definitely towards Aunt Nancy's.
The whole night was capitulated by me stating "who's a guy gotta blow around here to get some mulling spices?" within earshot of more than a few children.
The few highlights included a complimentary box of European chocolate treats and the Slovenians hocking custard donuts and fruit teas that quickly became my best friends.
That said, however, the rest seemed lacking, though festive enough to not seem like a giant waste of time.
But... Toronto... the next time you staff a "treats of Holland" stand with a fake Dutchman, I will have to destroy you. Trust me, I'll know.. I always know.
What's not festive about Jug Bands?
3.12.10
No folks, I'm not using an antiquated term for brassieres. I'm referring to the 1977 Jim Henson production Emmet Otter's Jug Band Christmas.
I always overlooked this production because it didn't feature familiar Muppet characters. Apparently, I had to fly across the Pacific and spend six months away from my trusty collection of well-loved Christmas flicks to finally sample this legendary Henson fare. Boy, what we've been missing. God bless Asian pirated DVD shops with obscure collections: a Christmas miracle!
The story begins with narrator Kermit bicycling through dreary December countryside, which could easily be mistaken for Eastern Ontario brush. (The CBC actually takes credit for the endearingly barren wintry set, so the landscape's familiarity isn't surprising.)
Any concern about character unfamiliarity is soon quashed- not only by Kermit, but by extremely recognizable voices- Frank Oz, Jerry Nelson, Dave Goelz.... some of Henson's most gifted puppeteers from the golden era of the Henson craft. If you close your eyes, you might be convinced you were listening to the soundtrack of a warped version of the Muppet Show or Sesame Street itself. The Riverbottom Boys, a local gang of good-for-nothing musical bullies, are led by a rough creature who bears the precise voice of one biscuit-loving blue monster from Sesame Street. (As an aside, this gets me thinking: could a meaner edge to Cookie Monster improve his prospects of SNL hosting? I'm not sure, but personally, I could get used to Cookie the thug. Particularly in light of the dietary emasculation the poor furry guy has suffered at the hands of a crazed public health movement.)
But back to our regularly scheduled puppetry: We are soon introduced to widow Alice and her son Emmet Otter. They live an impoverished but loving existence along the riverbanks of a small community called Frogtown Hollow, not far from the metropolis of Waterville. Life is hard. Alice does laundry to scrape together a living, and Emmet attempts odd jobs with his departed father's toolkit.
What the Otters lack in money, they make up in melody and humour. The film's first song is Grama's Bathing Suit: a lively waltz about Alice's mother. A woman of generous proportions, she leaves behind an epic swimming costume when she heads into the great rodent beyond. As she and Emmet row along the river, Alice cheerily sings about the hilarious fortunes of their sartorial inheritance: We made curtains and handkerchiefs and clothing for the poor...from the one bathing suit that your Grama Otter wore! Aside from Grama Otter's bathing suit bequest, the Otters have basically sold all their worldly goods. Except....the tin Washtub. In a bubblegum 70s number, Mother and Son sing thankfully about their fortune as owners of such a wondrous water receptacle, even if it is one of their last remaining possessions.
In a saccharine-sweet variation of the Gift of the Magi story (Which, interestingly, also gets played on by Ernie and Bert in the 1975 album/'78 TV special Christmas Eve on Sesame Street), Alice and Emmet both secretly plan to enter a Christmas Eve Talent Competition to win a 50-dollar prize and buy gifts for each other. Each Otter makes sacrifices to get to the Waterville stage: Alice hawks her husband's toolkit to buy cloth for a costume so that she can sing in the show. Emmet summons the courage to nail a hole in Alice's washtub to make a string bass. He joins his friends in forming the Frogtown Hollow Jubilee Jugband. With lively numbers such as a bluegrassy ode to BARBEQUE!, they are certain they will win the 50 dollars.
When competition night arrives, viewers are treated to a chaotic mass of marionettes jostling around in Guffmanlike grabs at the big prize. What's a rural, muppet-inspired Christmas special without foxes, ferrets, nondescript rodents, and nondescript rodents dressed as horses doing flips in an old-fashioned theatre?
Everything is looking good for Emmet and Alice until Cookie Monster's vocal doppleganger swings onto stage with a lean, mean crew of riparian rockers. THE NIGHTMARE.
Anyone who claims to be a true Muppet fan will quickly dismiss the nightmare as a rougher, meaner, less talented Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem. Needless to say, the crowd of woodland creatures at the talent show is instantly smitten with the band.
I will leave my synopsis here, so as not to spoil the hiiiiighly unpredictable ending.
I command all NTBR observers to make Emmet Otter a part of their Christmas viewing roster- now, and ever year hereafter!
I always overlooked this production because it didn't feature familiar Muppet characters. Apparently, I had to fly across the Pacific and spend six months away from my trusty collection of well-loved Christmas flicks to finally sample this legendary Henson fare. Boy, what we've been missing. God bless Asian pirated DVD shops with obscure collections: a Christmas miracle!
The story begins with narrator Kermit bicycling through dreary December countryside, which could easily be mistaken for Eastern Ontario brush. (The CBC actually takes credit for the endearingly barren wintry set, so the landscape's familiarity isn't surprising.)
Any concern about character unfamiliarity is soon quashed- not only by Kermit, but by extremely recognizable voices- Frank Oz, Jerry Nelson, Dave Goelz.... some of Henson's most gifted puppeteers from the golden era of the Henson craft. If you close your eyes, you might be convinced you were listening to the soundtrack of a warped version of the Muppet Show or Sesame Street itself. The Riverbottom Boys, a local gang of good-for-nothing musical bullies, are led by a rough creature who bears the precise voice of one biscuit-loving blue monster from Sesame Street. (As an aside, this gets me thinking: could a meaner edge to Cookie Monster improve his prospects of SNL hosting? I'm not sure, but personally, I could get used to Cookie the thug. Particularly in light of the dietary emasculation the poor furry guy has suffered at the hands of a crazed public health movement.)
But back to our regularly scheduled puppetry: We are soon introduced to widow Alice and her son Emmet Otter. They live an impoverished but loving existence along the riverbanks of a small community called Frogtown Hollow, not far from the metropolis of Waterville. Life is hard. Alice does laundry to scrape together a living, and Emmet attempts odd jobs with his departed father's toolkit.
What the Otters lack in money, they make up in melody and humour. The film's first song is Grama's Bathing Suit: a lively waltz about Alice's mother. A woman of generous proportions, she leaves behind an epic swimming costume when she heads into the great rodent beyond. As she and Emmet row along the river, Alice cheerily sings about the hilarious fortunes of their sartorial inheritance: We made curtains and handkerchiefs and clothing for the poor...from the one bathing suit that your Grama Otter wore! Aside from Grama Otter's bathing suit bequest, the Otters have basically sold all their worldly goods. Except....the tin Washtub. In a bubblegum 70s number, Mother and Son sing thankfully about their fortune as owners of such a wondrous water receptacle, even if it is one of their last remaining possessions.
In a saccharine-sweet variation of the Gift of the Magi story (Which, interestingly, also gets played on by Ernie and Bert in the 1975 album/'78 TV special Christmas Eve on Sesame Street), Alice and Emmet both secretly plan to enter a Christmas Eve Talent Competition to win a 50-dollar prize and buy gifts for each other. Each Otter makes sacrifices to get to the Waterville stage: Alice hawks her husband's toolkit to buy cloth for a costume so that she can sing in the show. Emmet summons the courage to nail a hole in Alice's washtub to make a string bass. He joins his friends in forming the Frogtown Hollow Jubilee Jugband. With lively numbers such as a bluegrassy ode to BARBEQUE!, they are certain they will win the 50 dollars.
When competition night arrives, viewers are treated to a chaotic mass of marionettes jostling around in Guffmanlike grabs at the big prize. What's a rural, muppet-inspired Christmas special without foxes, ferrets, nondescript rodents, and nondescript rodents dressed as horses doing flips in an old-fashioned theatre?
Everything is looking good for Emmet and Alice until Cookie Monster's vocal doppleganger swings onto stage with a lean, mean crew of riparian rockers. THE NIGHTMARE.
Anyone who claims to be a true Muppet fan will quickly dismiss the nightmare as a rougher, meaner, less talented Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem. Needless to say, the crowd of woodland creatures at the talent show is instantly smitten with the band.
I will leave my synopsis here, so as not to spoil the hiiiiighly unpredictable ending.
I command all NTBR observers to make Emmet Otter a part of their Christmas viewing roster- now, and ever year hereafter!
Poptrocities: Mariah Gets Extra Festive
1.12.10
So, we here at NTBR have been kid to Mariah Carey in the past (even if it has been in a slightly backhanded way) as she seems to continually only pop up around this time of year. Remember how she used to be everywhere and then "Glitter" happened??
Well, since then she's done one thing and only one thing well... yuletide cheer with a slight dusting of icing sugared sex.
That song, you know the one. It's everywhere round this time of year. THAT is not Mariah's fault. It's everywhere for a few reasons:
1. It's actually a fucking good song.
2. It appeared in "Love Actually"... a movie quickly establishing itself as a modern Christmas essential beloved by the middle-aged, British and, most importantly, middle-aged Brits.
3. It's probably the only relevant Christmas song released by an adult contemporary artist in the last two decades which makes it a stalwart for light Christmas programming.
Get used to it, Mariah will be part of your Christmases when you're in your 60s the way Ella Fitzgerald and Darlene Love still fly off the shelves come December.
So, what, you may ask, has it suddenly done to warrant a thorough once-over a solid 16 years after its original release? (Yes, it is that old)...
Three words... EXTRA. FESTIVE. VERSION.
That's right kids, as if Mariah this one track wasn't enough... the one that has kept her relevant for one month of every year for the rest of time... the one that's probably kept her in a lifetime supply of sugar plum cash... it just needed to be updated... kinda like a boob job for Christmas carols.
And we all know that boob jobs are always necessary and can never go wrong in any way, shape or form (more on that below).
But that once-over Mariah gave the track... not enough. She's at it again with her new disc "Merry Christmas II You".
Before you get excited, NO there is not another Boyz II Men collab on this one (I wish), but what it does have is the brand new, "All I Want For Christmas is You (Extra Festive Edition)"
First off, while I'm on the subject of sugar plums... look at the ornaments Mariah's packing inside her Christmas Sweater.
While this is a far cry more tasteful than her "Glitter era" crop-top-pops or her more attrocious (yet apt) Golden Globes swingers, it's still Christmas, and you're still 40.
It seems like Mariah is way older, but regardless of that, it's still way too lecherous and creepy for my festive appetite.
Somehow Mariah has managed a rare double feat of having looked and acted like a total Coug since 1997 yet at the same time perpetually being way younger than her saggy silicone veneer would suggest.
But on to the track itself... This thing is the selling point of the new album. There's a sticker on the front of it promoting the track.
And you'll notice two key differences.
1. The triumphant, Whoville-esque bells at the opening, and
2. The backing track which has gone from the persistent piano tinkling with tinny drums to a full Phil Spector wall of sound.
Is this what you have to do to goad already susceptible 40-somethings into flitting away their endlessly disposable income into your new "CD". Is this what you expect those under 40 (who no longer buy CDs, since they're archaic and now about as useful as mini-discs) to spend a whole3 3:30 downloading?
A whole album for this?
OK, so I haven't listened to the disc (why would I?)... maybe it has the version of "O Come All Ye Faithful" we've all been waiting for... maybe it has another version of "O Holy Night" for Edna to get a Christmas boner over... Maybe it even has this generation's "All I Want for Christmas is You" on it.... who knows?
But the point I'm trying to make, the point that no one will make once this thing spends a month or so on the Top 40 is that this one, like all other follow-up Christmas albums (and, truthfully, a lot of Christmas debuts) is unnecessary.
Mariah, you should know better.
Now please personally stay at least 100 metres away from Christmas (your one great song is naturally excluded) until you have the good sense to re-team up with Boyz II Men and record "One Sweet (Christmas) Day" and/or a reinterpretation of their 1993 classic album "Christmas Interpretations".
It's the least you can do.
Heard on High
30.11.10
In 17 days, I leave the magical city of Phnom Penh for Christmas in Perth, Australia.
I'm pleased to report that sunny climes and balmy temperatures in Southeast Asia have not dampened my seasonal instincts. My heart still flutters as we begin the season of advent.
This morning I had an inaugural listen to two new Christmas albums: One offering from the Indigo Girls (!) and another from Joan Osborne. And tonight, I wandered the empty quiet streets of my neighbourhood with the Rankin Family standard Do You Hear on my ipod. Being halfway around the world can't dampen my joy in hearing those soaring sisters' voices.
In my wonderings and wanderings while listening to Ave Maria and the Christ Child Lullabye, I actually spotted a christmas tree. Fake, alight in the window of a Western Bank near the Independence Monument. Neocolonial heralding to be sure, though I couldn't help but smile.
Turning back to the house, I walked by the neighbourhood pagoda. Orange robes hung in windows and gold glistened on moonlit spires. Colour, shadows and light. All was still, and I felt...home for Christmas.
I'm pleased to report that sunny climes and balmy temperatures in Southeast Asia have not dampened my seasonal instincts. My heart still flutters as we begin the season of advent.
This morning I had an inaugural listen to two new Christmas albums: One offering from the Indigo Girls (!) and another from Joan Osborne. And tonight, I wandered the empty quiet streets of my neighbourhood with the Rankin Family standard Do You Hear on my ipod. Being halfway around the world can't dampen my joy in hearing those soaring sisters' voices.
In my wonderings and wanderings while listening to Ave Maria and the Christ Child Lullabye, I actually spotted a christmas tree. Fake, alight in the window of a Western Bank near the Independence Monument. Neocolonial heralding to be sure, though I couldn't help but smile.
Turning back to the house, I walked by the neighbourhood pagoda. Orange robes hung in windows and gold glistened on moonlit spires. Colour, shadows and light. All was still, and I felt...home for Christmas.
Your Official 2010 Christmas Cocktail: "The Bing Crosby"
29.11.10
OK, so this is actually just a cherry gin sling, but it's still festive, delicious and embodies everything I've come to associate with history's greatest crooner:
It's smooth, a little sweet, refreshing and has a crisp, boozy finish.
The Bing Crosby:
(serve in a highball, over ice)
2 parts Gin
1 part Cherry Brandy
Top with soda
Garnish with two maraschino cherries (if you like your Crosby sweet, add in a teaspoon of the maraschino syrup)
Stir, croon and swoon.
It's smooth, a little sweet, refreshing and has a crisp, boozy finish.
The Bing Crosby:(serve in a highball, over ice)
2 parts Gin
1 part Cherry Brandy
Top with soda
Garnish with two maraschino cherries (if you like your Crosby sweet, add in a teaspoon of the maraschino syrup)
Stir, croon and swoon.
A Christmassy Ted
...If these 20 seconds aren't enough to make you want to find and watch the "Father Ted" Christmas Special ("A Christmassy Ted") I don't know what will...
Pancakes For The Elderly
26.11.10
There is a beautiful feeling that most of us experience but rarely get to enjoy.
There comes a time just before one is about to fall flat on their ass, where the world stops dead. Your feet begin to slide out from below you, completely ignorant of your brains repeated orders to hold their ground. The muscles in your back, legs, arms, neck, shoulders and ass slam on the breaks and tense up like your grandmother watching Borat.
Now here it is. For a sweet fleeting moment you and your awkward, pokey, gangly, lanky body are set free. Free of the only world you know and it's gravitational restrictions. It's as smooth as dental floss and as exhilarating as soft core pornography on french cable television. Yes, falling, not landing, falling is amazing. If only we could capture and store this moment of weightlessness.
With the holiday season, formerly known as CHRIST-F*****G-MAS comes the formation of ice and snow. With ice and snow comes slipping and falling. It's just going to happen Jimmy. So, the next time you realize you're about to land on your face, pause for that split second before impact and be aware. Be aware of the feeling that only astronauts and skydivers and bungee-jumpers can know. The moment when no part of your fleshy pink existence is in contact with anything.
There is beauty is this moment. Beauty and calamity. Oh, how the two go hand in hand.
There comes a time just before one is about to fall flat on their ass, where the world stops dead. Your feet begin to slide out from below you, completely ignorant of your brains repeated orders to hold their ground. The muscles in your back, legs, arms, neck, shoulders and ass slam on the breaks and tense up like your grandmother watching Borat.
Now here it is. For a sweet fleeting moment you and your awkward, pokey, gangly, lanky body are set free. Free of the only world you know and it's gravitational restrictions. It's as smooth as dental floss and as exhilarating as soft core pornography on french cable television. Yes, falling, not landing, falling is amazing. If only we could capture and store this moment of weightlessness.
With the holiday season, formerly known as CHRIST-F*****G-MAS comes the formation of ice and snow. With ice and snow comes slipping and falling. It's just going to happen Jimmy. So, the next time you realize you're about to land on your face, pause for that split second before impact and be aware. Be aware of the feeling that only astronauts and skydivers and bungee-jumpers can know. The moment when no part of your fleshy pink existence is in contact with anything.
There is beauty is this moment. Beauty and calamity. Oh, how the two go hand in hand.
Shit. Floats.
25.11.10
One of the benefits of my job, as is, is that I have access to a television all day and can pretty much watch whatever I like.
So, today I decided to "live blog," via twitter, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade... which I love because it takes all the glee and earnestness of Toronto's Santa Claus Parade and purees it in a Disney Channel/Today Show blender.
Here's a collection of thoughts from the 2010 edition.
9:03 - And the first "What the Hell?" of the Macy's Parade goes to the "Spirit of America" dance troupe
9:05 - Hey "Spirit of America"... I had "get with the times" ready when you did Jessica Simpson's "Boots"... then I heard "Cotton Eye Joe"
9:10 - I may be hallucinating, but I may have just seen NBC blur out a fat man's nipples on a "Biggest Loser" ad.
9:20 - Macy's What the Hell #2: The Cast of "Memphis"... it's like Hairspray got knocked up by "The Princess and the Frog"
9:22 - And I'd like to thank the lead in "Memphis" for proving that I'm still handsome and talented enough for Broadway.
9:25 - I hated Green Day's "Good Riddance" before... one Broadway cast and like 20 acoustic guitars later, turns out I still hate it.
9:40 - Dear Rockettes, I used to think you were brutal and scary. Turns out you're all hot. I'm sorry.
9:55 - I would actually pay $1,000,000 for this Fallon/Roots performance of "Do They Know It's Christmas" to turn into "The Seed 2.0"
10:10 - Overheard on Parade broadcast "What's a Thanksgiving without pizza?"... The answer?... employed.
10:16 - Any second now, this Native American-sponsored float is going to burst open to reveal a "Give Us Our Land Back" banner. I can feel it.
10:21 - This marching band doing "I Got A Feelin" lacks all the talent and irony of Kanye's "Jesus Walks" backing band.
10:28 - What is this? The princess version of "Single Ladies"?
10:35 - I step away from the TV for 1 MINUTE and I turn back to a giant inflatable fireman & circus music. I had to ask my boss if we were on drugs.
10:39 - Big Time Rush... just a less Hispanic Menudo.
10:44 - Wait someone just used both "Pokemon" and "fans" in a sentence together... IN THE PRESENT TENSE!!
10:50 - And that was the whitest STOMP! ever...
10:51 - From now on I only want to hear the "Spiderman" Theme played by a marching band with a swing beat.
11:00 - "I'm sorry, I'ma let you finish but Macy's is one of the greatest parades of ALL TIME!!"
11:06 - Is this Aladdin the musical? NOPE... Persian heritage dance.
11:10 - These penguins = America's Best Dance Crew
11:15 - Doling out Victoria Justice... one 10-year-old heartbreak at a time.
11:17 - Why does every singer under 20 sound like they're on "Glee"?
11:18 - ... and of course, by "on Glee", I mean "on ketamine"
11:26 - I'm not going to say anything bad about the "Stepper-ettes" They look like perfectly nice teen Moms.
11:31 - STAYPUFT IS BAAAAAAACK!!!
11:40 - Here's one of America's most-beloved talents.... ummmm... I lost my sheet, what's her name?... Anyone??
11:41 - "Coming up next, a performance that will raise the roof".... IT'S AN OUTDOOR PARADE, PEOPLE!!
11:43 - Elves doing Backstreet Boys moves... U.S.A!! U.S.A!!
11:45 - Joan Rivers... Clearly drunk.
11:50 - What is Anne Hampton Callaway? Yes, I said WHAT... my guess: Susan Boyle and Anne Hathaway's lesbian love child.
11:57 - And now for the thrilling conclusion, a local pederast draped in red velour!
9:05 - Hey "Spirit of America"... I had "get with the times" ready when you did Jessica Simpson's "Boots"... then I heard "Cotton Eye Joe"
9:10 - I may be hallucinating, but I may have just seen NBC blur out a fat man's nipples on a "Biggest Loser" ad.
9:20 - Macy's What the Hell #2: The Cast of "Memphis"... it's like Hairspray got knocked up by "The Princess and the Frog"
9:22 - And I'd like to thank the lead in "Memphis" for proving that I'm still handsome and talented enough for Broadway.
9:25 - I hated Green Day's "Good Riddance" before... one Broadway cast and like 20 acoustic guitars later, turns out I still hate it.
9:40 - Dear Rockettes, I used to think you were brutal and scary. Turns out you're all hot. I'm sorry.
9:55 - I would actually pay $1,000,000 for this Fallon/Roots performance of "Do They Know It's Christmas" to turn into "The Seed 2.0"
10:10 - Overheard on Parade broadcast "What's a Thanksgiving without pizza?"... The answer?... employed.
10:16 - Any second now, this Native American-sponsored float is going to burst open to reveal a "Give Us Our Land Back" banner. I can feel it.
10:21 - This marching band doing "I Got A Feelin" lacks all the talent and irony of Kanye's "Jesus Walks" backing band.
10:28 - What is this? The princess version of "Single Ladies"?
10:35 - I step away from the TV for 1 MINUTE and I turn back to a giant inflatable fireman & circus music. I had to ask my boss if we were on drugs.
10:39 - Big Time Rush... just a less Hispanic Menudo.
10:44 - Wait someone just used both "Pokemon" and "fans" in a sentence together... IN THE PRESENT TENSE!!
10:50 - And that was the whitest STOMP! ever...
10:51 - From now on I only want to hear the "Spiderman" Theme played by a marching band with a swing beat.
11:00 - "I'm sorry, I'ma let you finish but Macy's is one of the greatest parades of ALL TIME!!"
11:06 - Is this Aladdin the musical? NOPE... Persian heritage dance.
11:10 - These penguins = America's Best Dance Crew
11:15 - Doling out Victoria Justice... one 10-year-old heartbreak at a time.
11:17 - Why does every singer under 20 sound like they're on "Glee"?
11:18 - ... and of course, by "on Glee", I mean "on ketamine"
11:26 - I'm not going to say anything bad about the "Stepper-ettes" They look like perfectly nice teen Moms.
11:31 - STAYPUFT IS BAAAAAAACK!!!
11:40 - Here's one of America's most-beloved talents.... ummmm... I lost my sheet, what's her name?... Anyone??
11:41 - "Coming up next, a performance that will raise the roof".... IT'S AN OUTDOOR PARADE, PEOPLE!!
11:43 - Elves doing Backstreet Boys moves... U.S.A!! U.S.A!!
11:45 - Joan Rivers... Clearly drunk.
11:50 - What is Anne Hampton Callaway? Yes, I said WHAT... my guess: Susan Boyle and Anne Hathaway's lesbian love child.
11:57 - And now for the thrilling conclusion, a local pederast draped in red velour!
American Thanksgiving Rules, Okay?
24.11.10
So, one of the unique experiences I had while living overseas for almost two years came in November 2006 when I was working in Egypt. The magazine that I was writing for was run (and largely staffed) by Americans.
In late November, my editor, who happened to be a Canadian ex-pat, swung by my desk and asked, “So… you going to the boss’ place tonight?”
After a few minutes of vacantly staring at each other, he caved and explained. “The publishers are having a Thanksgiving dinner for all staff tonight at their place. I’m guessing the vacant look was because no one told you”.
To which I responded “Well, yes… but the vacant look had more to do with the fact that Thanksgiving was a month ago. Will they even let me in, given that I’m Canadian?”
We had a laugh about it and then he explained that, yes, the event was open to all and that even some of the Egyptian staffers were attending (another post may go into detail about the Egyptians/Candied Yams dichotomy). So, out of curiosity more than anything else, I attended.
See, I’d always had this opinion about American Thanksgiving and the fact that it’s historically ridiculous. There’s no way anyone would be celebrating a successful harvest at the end of November, and that fact remains entrenched in my nicely-conditioned Canadian brain.
But here’s something they don’t teach you in your grade seven Canadian history class…
American Thanksgiving rules.
It is way better than Canadian Thanksgiving. So good, that one attendance was enough to completely overlook blatant historical inaccuracy.
Imagine this, my fellow Canadians… in one day you get to jam in all of the following events:
- Thanksgiving dinner
- The Santa Claus Parade
- Trimming the Christmas tree
- Several daytime football games (and meaningful ones, since it’s late in the season)
Oh yeah, and then, to top it off, you get a dry-run for Boxing Day the very next day. All of this, PLUS a four-day weekend and you still get that day off in October for Columbus Day or whatever bogus long-weekend they claim to be celebrating south of 49.
I’m sorry, but as much as the positioning of the day makes zero sense whatsoever, there’s something to be said for it being significantly better than our Thanksgiving and *probably* the second best holiday all-year, Stateside.
Consider all of this… now look back on all the specials you’ve watched in recent years or as kids. You know, the ones where they talk about the miracle of Thanksgiving and how important it is… be it “How I Met Your Mother”, “Home Improvement”, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, whatever. Look at all that, consider everything they jam into one day.
Add in the entire family.
Then add the fact that just a month later, everyone does it all again to basically tear it all down and exchange gifts and ask if you wouldn’t mind having that kind of deal up here.
Yeah, me too.
Happy Yanksgiving everyone.
In late November, my editor, who happened to be a Canadian ex-pat, swung by my desk and asked, “So… you going to the boss’ place tonight?”
After a few minutes of vacantly staring at each other, he caved and explained. “The publishers are having a Thanksgiving dinner for all staff tonight at their place. I’m guessing the vacant look was because no one told you”.
To which I responded “Well, yes… but the vacant look had more to do with the fact that Thanksgiving was a month ago. Will they even let me in, given that I’m Canadian?”
We had a laugh about it and then he explained that, yes, the event was open to all and that even some of the Egyptian staffers were attending (another post may go into detail about the Egyptians/Candied Yams dichotomy). So, out of curiosity more than anything else, I attended.
See, I’d always had this opinion about American Thanksgiving and the fact that it’s historically ridiculous. There’s no way anyone would be celebrating a successful harvest at the end of November, and that fact remains entrenched in my nicely-conditioned Canadian brain.
But here’s something they don’t teach you in your grade seven Canadian history class…
American Thanksgiving rules.
It is way better than Canadian Thanksgiving. So good, that one attendance was enough to completely overlook blatant historical inaccuracy.
Imagine this, my fellow Canadians… in one day you get to jam in all of the following events:
- Thanksgiving dinner
- The Santa Claus Parade
- Trimming the Christmas tree
- Several daytime football games (and meaningful ones, since it’s late in the season)
Oh yeah, and then, to top it off, you get a dry-run for Boxing Day the very next day. All of this, PLUS a four-day weekend and you still get that day off in October for Columbus Day or whatever bogus long-weekend they claim to be celebrating south of 49.
I’m sorry, but as much as the positioning of the day makes zero sense whatsoever, there’s something to be said for it being significantly better than our Thanksgiving and *probably* the second best holiday all-year, Stateside.
Consider all of this… now look back on all the specials you’ve watched in recent years or as kids. You know, the ones where they talk about the miracle of Thanksgiving and how important it is… be it “How I Met Your Mother”, “Home Improvement”, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, whatever. Look at all that, consider everything they jam into one day.
Add in the entire family.
Then add the fact that just a month later, everyone does it all again to basically tear it all down and exchange gifts and ask if you wouldn’t mind having that kind of deal up here.
Yeah, me too.
Happy Yanksgiving everyone.
May All Your Christmases Bea White
I'm working on a list of Christmas cocktails. In the meantime, here's the kind of gong show we can expect to be hitting TVTropolis in the next month or so.
And now, a word from Edna, who promises to post something more substantial
FYI Jersey Shore, the Real Housewives of New Jersey, and Jerseylicious: Home Hardware was all over this guido business back in Christmas of '95. I present to you Paula and Peter Stefanuto of Sudbury, Ontario:
Due to copyright regulations, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer will not be shown. Somehow, Pepsi-Cola corp et. al. don't mind us re-airing their Yulesploitation ads from 1991:
Due to copyright regulations, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer will not be shown. Somehow, Pepsi-Cola corp et. al. don't mind us re-airing their Yulesploitation ads from 1991:
I would like to know whether the good folks of 1991 would actually buy four 2L bottles of 7up just so they could ~save five dollars~ on a $25 Game Boy game that seems like blatant 7up propaganda. In the interests of authenticity, the makers of this reel included the commercial breaks as they were, so prepare to get pissed off by those same recurring ads you hated in 1991!
Just scroll to about 4:00 for the "Vanilla Ice Rides into a Deadly Wall of Fire" Circus of the Stars promo. Not making this up. SPOILER ALERT: HE SURVIVES.
(NERD NOTE: I tested the blog in Chrome, Firefox and Explorer, and I'm glad to see my browser preference validated as it works best in Chrome)
bling bling bling bling bling
22.11.10
It's that time of year, my loves. With Renners enjoying more of a Tet-style holiday season, I thought I'd kickstart this old girl back into motion and see if anyone wants to toss in any yule logs to stoke the fire.
My holiday season began in earnest yesterday with the Santa Claus Parade and the older I get the more the realities of it being a frustrating event present themselves, but it still leaves me with the kind of wonderment and anticipation for Christmas as it did when I was four years old.
Yes, I realize the costumes probably don't get washed from year to year. No, I don't want to deal with those screaming kids. Yes, I laugh when kids fall down and hurt themselves... BUT, I appreciate it as the event that officially makes thinking about Christmas okay in this city, and it happens to be one of the only events this city can consistently do well, so I feel like I should revel in it before I'm saddled with kids of my own to try taming for the 2 hours the parade leaves them out in the freezing cold.
Still... every year Santa comes to town, I scream like an idiot when whichever drunk they've paid to pose as him comes rolling by on a glorified cube van and immediately go home to have my inaugural watching of Muppet Family Christmas.
So sue me.
So, it has begun. Feel free to join in, and invite your friends to do likewise. Because Christmas time is, in fact, here.
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