I wrote about the horrors of February three years ago. It's my most-highly read column, because every winter I get hundreds of new page hits from the search phrase "I hate February." Sadly, that fact has not impressed anyone enough to fix the underlying problems with the month.
So I'm going to do keep complaining about it.
February is the worst month of year and it isn't even close.
The weather is cold, the days are short, it doesn't contain a real holiday, and nothing interesting happens in it other than the Super Bowl, which almost always disappoints with boring football and uninspired commercials. And don't even get me started about Valentine's Day.
Other months are bad too, but none quite so much as February. January is too cold, and August is too hot. But January at least has two holidays, the NFL playoffs, and the tail end of the holiday season. August, has lots of daylight in its favor, and no begrudges you a summer vacation if you just can't take the brutal heat.
In February, your boss still expects you to work extra to compensate for the lost productivity of the holiday season, and it's too cold to go anywhere anyway.
February has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. And as I type this I'm reminded that February sucks for an additional reason: it is wayyyyyyy too hard to spell. It has that unnecessary and largely unpronounced "r" as its fourth letter, inserted just to spite all of us. We can't even write about it without it causing aggravation.
Honestly, the month's only redeeming factor is that it only has 28 days. Whoever decided that the rest of the months should have 30 or 31, while February was so awful it should be limited to 28, obviously realized how horrible this month is. But they didn't do enough to stop it from coming back.
Even when it passes, we all know it will still be out there, lurking, laughing under its cold wintery breath until it returns in early 2015.
So I suggest we go a step further than making February the shortest month of the year: we should eliminate it altogether. Really, wouldn't the world be a much better place if we had 11 months with 33 or 34 days each and just got rid of February?
Or we could skip from January to March.
I'm sure some old grouch out there would argue that if we skipped February, March would suddenly just take its place as the month filled with cold weather and short days, and it would be just as bad. But that's ridiculous. March is much easier to spell.
Besides, I'm pretty sure the skeptics are wrong, but even if by some weird stretch of logic they happened to win on a technicality, we could still solve the problem another way. We could just add 28 days to January. It would make for a really long month, but at least there would be something to look forward to at the end.
As it stands, finishing a month of brutal January cold only to be rewarded with February is small consolation.
We should just get rid of February instead.
And let's get rid of that unnecessary first "R" while we're at it.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
How to Take Over the World with An Army of Penguins, in Three Easy Steps
"And that," my friend told me recently, "is my how someone could try to take down the government in three simple steps."
It was a well-thought-out plan that came from someone in counter-terrorism who'd just concluded a "think-like-the-enemy" exercise. But aside from with being limited to the US, it was inferior to my competing plan in one critical way: it lacked an army of penguins.
World domination, should you ever need it, can be reached with an army of penguins and two other steps. Here's how:
Step One: Set up Your Own Dictatorship on Antarctica
Taking over Antarctica is the first, and easiest part of the plan. It's cold, so no one lives there. Just show up with a grimace on your face sufficiently menacing to scare away the two research scientists who are stuck on the continent, and that block of ice is pretty much yours. That shouldn't be too difficult, because those scientists are probably looking for an excuse to go back home and sit by the fire anyway.
Complete this easy task, and Antarctica is yours.
Of course, you're likely to succumb to frostbite within the first half hour, but this is a small price to pay for controlling 1/7th of the world.
Congratulations! You now own the only land on earth that no one else wants.
This leads us to:
Step Two: Train an Army of Attack Penguins
This one should be self explanatory.
But as the success of the plan depends entirely on an elite army of attack penguins, I'll spell it out.
Upon your ascension to the throne of Antarctica (also known as a pile of snow), you'll need to enlist an army. Since there are no people there (those two researchers aren't much help, and they will have left by this point anyway) you'll need to use penguins.
This is ok. Penguins have several advantages over humans. They are better at marching, and more importantly, they are too cute for anyone to attack. I venture to say that this will be the case even when (inevitably) the penguins strike first.
In case you are wondering whether penguins can be trained to be an elite military unit, there is some favorable precedent. The Peabody Hotel in Memphis has a team of ducks that march ceremoniously back and forth from the elevator to the main lobby fountain twice a day. If a pack of ducks who quack with Southern accents can be trained for this, surely a pack (or whatever a group of penguins is called) of Emperor Penguins (who were bred to respect your newly created monarchy) are capable of even more. But in the worst case, you might have to hire that duck trainer from Memphis.
Maybe he'll even bring some barbecue.
The penguins should be quick studies. They won't actually know what's going on, but as long as they waddle forward and quack (or whatever ducks do) they will look intimidating enough to ensure immediate surrender.
Once the ducks are trained, you can strap weapons around them and stow them away until your next move. Although unless they are free-range penguins given luxurious accommodations, you might risk a mutiny if you arm them before the plan is ready, and they get to sit around and plot for too long.
Which leads us to:
Step Three: Threaten to Melt Antarctica
It's your continent, so it's your choice.
This act that is the central part to the plan. If you blow up Antarctica, all that melted ice would flood the rest of the world.
Actually, I'm pretty sure this is the same method God used back in Noah's Day, except that in that case, the penguins were already on the ark. Perhaps they even commandeered it.
As to how to blow up Antarctica, assuming that you do not have access to large explosives (and if are reading this blog, I certainly hope that you don't), I would suggest a large hair dryer. It might take a while, and you'll need a very large extension cord, but world domination wasn't meant to come easily. Alternatively, you could just wait until Al Gore's predictions of natural consequences come true, but no conservatives will bargain with you if you go that route.
Either way, so long as no one thinks to turn the power off from wherever your extension cord is plugged into, you'll have the world at your mercy eventually.
While you are running that cord, you can give the world a choice: surrender to your control, or you'll get all "Antarctic Blow Dryer" on their behinds. When all the world leaders inevitably surrender, you send the penguins in to clean up the last bit of guerrilla (and possibly gorilla) resistance.
The penguins can then return to their frigid rightful home, and assuming you haven't yet died of hypothermia, you can rule the world from a location of your choosing. Of course, your reign isn't likely to last long once the Resistance figures out that you are penguin-less, and that there are limits to the reach of your blow dryer. But the title of this post wasn't how to stay in control of the world, only how to take control of it to start.
Once you are overthrown, it's very possible you'll be exiled to Antarctica to live out your remaining days. But at least, from your make-shift igloo, you can start plotting your revenge. And when you do, you should have plenty of penguins at your disposal.
It was a well-thought-out plan that came from someone in counter-terrorism who'd just concluded a "think-like-the-enemy" exercise. But aside from with being limited to the US, it was inferior to my competing plan in one critical way: it lacked an army of penguins.
World domination, should you ever need it, can be reached with an army of penguins and two other steps. Here's how:
Step One: Set up Your Own Dictatorship on Antarctica
Taking over Antarctica is the first, and easiest part of the plan. It's cold, so no one lives there. Just show up with a grimace on your face sufficiently menacing to scare away the two research scientists who are stuck on the continent, and that block of ice is pretty much yours. That shouldn't be too difficult, because those scientists are probably looking for an excuse to go back home and sit by the fire anyway.
Complete this easy task, and Antarctica is yours.
Of course, you're likely to succumb to frostbite within the first half hour, but this is a small price to pay for controlling 1/7th of the world.
Congratulations! You now own the only land on earth that no one else wants.
This leads us to:
Step Two: Train an Army of Attack Penguins
This one should be self explanatory.
But as the success of the plan depends entirely on an elite army of attack penguins, I'll spell it out.
Upon your ascension to the throne of Antarctica (also known as a pile of snow), you'll need to enlist an army. Since there are no people there (those two researchers aren't much help, and they will have left by this point anyway) you'll need to use penguins.
This is ok. Penguins have several advantages over humans. They are better at marching, and more importantly, they are too cute for anyone to attack. I venture to say that this will be the case even when (inevitably) the penguins strike first.
In case you are wondering whether penguins can be trained to be an elite military unit, there is some favorable precedent. The Peabody Hotel in Memphis has a team of ducks that march ceremoniously back and forth from the elevator to the main lobby fountain twice a day. If a pack of ducks who quack with Southern accents can be trained for this, surely a pack (or whatever a group of penguins is called) of Emperor Penguins (who were bred to respect your newly created monarchy) are capable of even more. But in the worst case, you might have to hire that duck trainer from Memphis.
Maybe he'll even bring some barbecue.
The penguins should be quick studies. They won't actually know what's going on, but as long as they waddle forward and quack (or whatever ducks do) they will look intimidating enough to ensure immediate surrender.
Once the ducks are trained, you can strap weapons around them and stow them away until your next move. Although unless they are free-range penguins given luxurious accommodations, you might risk a mutiny if you arm them before the plan is ready, and they get to sit around and plot for too long.
Which leads us to:
Step Three: Threaten to Melt Antarctica
It's your continent, so it's your choice.
This act that is the central part to the plan. If you blow up Antarctica, all that melted ice would flood the rest of the world.
Actually, I'm pretty sure this is the same method God used back in Noah's Day, except that in that case, the penguins were already on the ark. Perhaps they even commandeered it.
As to how to blow up Antarctica, assuming that you do not have access to large explosives (and if are reading this blog, I certainly hope that you don't), I would suggest a large hair dryer. It might take a while, and you'll need a very large extension cord, but world domination wasn't meant to come easily. Alternatively, you could just wait until Al Gore's predictions of natural consequences come true, but no conservatives will bargain with you if you go that route.
Either way, so long as no one thinks to turn the power off from wherever your extension cord is plugged into, you'll have the world at your mercy eventually.
While you are running that cord, you can give the world a choice: surrender to your control, or you'll get all "Antarctic Blow Dryer" on their behinds. When all the world leaders inevitably surrender, you send the penguins in to clean up the last bit of guerrilla (and possibly gorilla) resistance.
The penguins can then return to their frigid rightful home, and assuming you haven't yet died of hypothermia, you can rule the world from a location of your choosing. Of course, your reign isn't likely to last long once the Resistance figures out that you are penguin-less, and that there are limits to the reach of your blow dryer. But the title of this post wasn't how to stay in control of the world, only how to take control of it to start.
Once you are overthrown, it's very possible you'll be exiled to Antarctica to live out your remaining days. But at least, from your make-shift igloo, you can start plotting your revenge. And when you do, you should have plenty of penguins at your disposal.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
This Blog is Haunted
As of this posting, my blog has 16,666 all-time views, which signifies that it's clearly the work of the devil.
I guess that street preacher's warnings as to the direction of my life were right after all.
But more importantly for you, this means that if you read this blog, the ghost that's been haunting me for the past 36 years is likely to leave my side and end up on your doorstep.
I sure hope so, because, honestly, Clarence is kind of a bore.
You might think having your very own haunted blog would be exciting. You couldn't be more wrong. The kind of ghost that could exist anywhere in time or space but chooses instead to haunt this blog is by definition pretty lame.
Or perhaps he only seems that way to me. After all, I've heard all his stories at this point, and he isn't much fun at parties.
He doesn't like to get out much, but instead spends his time telling me not to waste time with this blog, when I could be doing more important things, such as watching wrestling or the latest episode of New Girl.
"That Zooey Deschanel sure is entertainingly quirky," Clarence says.
Clarence serves a vital purpose through his haunting of this blog: he tells me not to write stuff. Every day that I haven't written something, was because the ghost that haunts this blog told me not to. Unless I was on vacation.
You see, when I try to write my weekly blog installment, Clarence tells me not to bother. He tells me that I'm tired and burnt out and that I don't have anything new to say or any good ideas.
Of course, he's often right on all counts. But he's still annoying.
On the rare occasions when I do I have an idea for a blog post, Clarence suggests that I should Google myself instead. "After all, how many other people can say that they wrote the Alabama Elevator Code," he asks? "And it's just one quick search away! Besides, they could revise that sucker any day now and your legacy will be lost, so you might as well enjoy it now."
When his helpful ideas aren't sufficiently persuasive, sometimes he causes technical glitches. For instance, the time I got locked out of this site for a couple weeks and couldn't post anything was all Clarence's doing.
Sometimes he even sneaks in after I post stuff and creates typos that I woulds have nevre let slip by me. Other times he writes stuff under my name that just isn't any good.
Clarence mostly sticks to haunting this blog, but occasionally, when he gets really bored, he tries to haunt the rest of my life too. He tells me not to work on that book because I gave myself a year, which means I have 364 days to do it later. He tells Directv to call me every week with an offer I can't refuse. He tells me to eat that Zebra cake and drink that diet coke, because it hasn't given me cancer yet, so I'm obviously immune.
He tells me not to go to the gym because I'm tired, and that I shouldn't reach out to old friends because I don't know where to start catching up; he tells me that the people close to me couldn't understand my problems, so I should just keep them to myself; he tells me to hit the snooze button again, and then to turn it off and go back to sleep, and then he tells me that I should write run-on sentences.
But alas, Clarence has been with me long enough. I'm hoping that by virtue of posting on this haunted occasion, Clarence will find someone new to haunt.
Maybe there's a go-getter out there reading this who could use his laid-back influence as a means to bring balance to her life. Maybe there's a lonely guy out there who just needs a friend, albeit one without physical form or audible means of communication.
Of course, I know what some of you are thinking: Clarence doesn't sound like a real ghost at all, only a figment of my imagination that I've made up as an excuse for my inability to think of a good idea for a column.
And if you're embedded in that kind of negative thinking, I'd say there's a very good chance that Clarence is speaking through you already.
Which means I'm finally rid of him.
Mission accomplished.
I guess that street preacher's warnings as to the direction of my life were right after all.
But more importantly for you, this means that if you read this blog, the ghost that's been haunting me for the past 36 years is likely to leave my side and end up on your doorstep.
I sure hope so, because, honestly, Clarence is kind of a bore.
You might think having your very own haunted blog would be exciting. You couldn't be more wrong. The kind of ghost that could exist anywhere in time or space but chooses instead to haunt this blog is by definition pretty lame.
Or perhaps he only seems that way to me. After all, I've heard all his stories at this point, and he isn't much fun at parties.
He doesn't like to get out much, but instead spends his time telling me not to waste time with this blog, when I could be doing more important things, such as watching wrestling or the latest episode of New Girl.
"That Zooey Deschanel sure is entertainingly quirky," Clarence says.
Clarence serves a vital purpose through his haunting of this blog: he tells me not to write stuff. Every day that I haven't written something, was because the ghost that haunts this blog told me not to. Unless I was on vacation.
You see, when I try to write my weekly blog installment, Clarence tells me not to bother. He tells me that I'm tired and burnt out and that I don't have anything new to say or any good ideas.
Of course, he's often right on all counts. But he's still annoying.
On the rare occasions when I do I have an idea for a blog post, Clarence suggests that I should Google myself instead. "After all, how many other people can say that they wrote the Alabama Elevator Code," he asks? "And it's just one quick search away! Besides, they could revise that sucker any day now and your legacy will be lost, so you might as well enjoy it now."
When his helpful ideas aren't sufficiently persuasive, sometimes he causes technical glitches. For instance, the time I got locked out of this site for a couple weeks and couldn't post anything was all Clarence's doing.
Sometimes he even sneaks in after I post stuff and creates typos that I woulds have nevre let slip by me. Other times he writes stuff under my name that just isn't any good.
Clarence mostly sticks to haunting this blog, but occasionally, when he gets really bored, he tries to haunt the rest of my life too. He tells me not to work on that book because I gave myself a year, which means I have 364 days to do it later. He tells Directv to call me every week with an offer I can't refuse. He tells me to eat that Zebra cake and drink that diet coke, because it hasn't given me cancer yet, so I'm obviously immune.
He tells me not to go to the gym because I'm tired, and that I shouldn't reach out to old friends because I don't know where to start catching up; he tells me that the people close to me couldn't understand my problems, so I should just keep them to myself; he tells me to hit the snooze button again, and then to turn it off and go back to sleep, and then he tells me that I should write run-on sentences.
But alas, Clarence has been with me long enough. I'm hoping that by virtue of posting on this haunted occasion, Clarence will find someone new to haunt.
Maybe there's a go-getter out there reading this who could use his laid-back influence as a means to bring balance to her life. Maybe there's a lonely guy out there who just needs a friend, albeit one without physical form or audible means of communication.
Of course, I know what some of you are thinking: Clarence doesn't sound like a real ghost at all, only a figment of my imagination that I've made up as an excuse for my inability to think of a good idea for a column.
And if you're embedded in that kind of negative thinking, I'd say there's a very good chance that Clarence is speaking through you already.
Which means I'm finally rid of him.
Mission accomplished.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
A Blue Christmas (with lyrics from Green Day and Paramore)
Christmas is almost here, so everyone has to be happy. If you aren't, go sit in the corner until you come back with a hearty dose of Christmas cheer and you're ready to sing loud for all to hear.
Go. Celebrate family togetherness. Be thankful for what you have. Put on an overly colorful sweater and drink some eggnog. Enjoy some time away from work.
You have to. Whether you like it or not. Even if your family doesn't really like you and your life is lacking what seems most important (including an ugly Christmas sweater) and you don't get any extra time off for the holidays.
It's Christmas time, so plaster a smile on your face. Go shopping. If you buy things for people, they will like you. Right?
Today's the Macy's Day parade
Night of the living dead is on its way
with the credit report for duty called...
When I was a kid I thought
I wanted all the things that I haven't got
Oh, but I learned the hardest way...
Listen to the Christmas carols on the radio and see the pretty lights. Watch Elf and It's a Wonderful Life and drink some hot cider and get warm and fuzzy all over, whether you feel it or not. Most importantly, go spend some money. That's what our society promises will make you happy. Isn't it?
...then I realized what it took
to tell the difference between thieves and crooks
a lesson learned for me and you.
Give me something that I need
Satisfaction guaranteed to you.
What's the consolation prize?
Economy-sized dreams of hope...
And while you're at it, don't forget to take a moment--just a moment--to reflect on the deeper meaning of the day. It's the day that God personally came down to earth so that he could relate to the struggles we face first-hand and ultimately overcome them. And in his name, all oppression shall cease.
Eventually.
But probably not this Christmas season.
(I scraped my knees when I was praying
Found a demon in my safest haven.
Seems like it's getting harder to believe in anything
But just to get lost in all my selfish thoughts...)
Count your blessings this year. So many dreams have come. So many hopes fulfilled. So many seemingly impossible challenges that are now only distant memories. You did the right thing, and you always got rewarded for it, right? Right? Good things always happen to good people, after all. Because they deserved them. Just like you did!
(...I want to know what it'd be like
to find perfection in my pride
to see nothing in the light
Or turn it off, in all my spite
In all my spite, I'll turn it off...)
Or maybe you can't find much worthy of celebrating this holiday season and find yourself going through the motions instead.
Maybe the only thing you really want is a little break, but instead your Christmas looks more like your overly burdened regular life, only on steroids. Maybe life circumstances have you feeling like Christmas is going to fly by this year without you even having a chance to stop and notice it. Maybe it doesn't feel like Christmas because something's missing from your comfortable routine, and there's no way to get it back. Or maybe the whole enterprise is lost in the midst of a bigger life drama. Who can be excited about Christmas when you can barely survive the day?
(...And the worst part is
before it gets
any better we're
headed for a cliff
but in the freefall, I
will realize
I'm better off
when I hit the bottom)
-Turn it Off (Paramore)
If any of the above sounds familiar, don't worry. Despite what our culture tells you, you don't have to be happy this Christmas. Feel free to hit rock bottom instead. Things can only get better from there, and sometimes you have to find the point where all your plans and hopes go awry before you can set free your sense of control.
So, your plans for life didn't work out. It doesn't mean there isn't a better plan out there. And as Hayley Williams suggests above, you'll get farther by turning off your own expectations than by turning off your faith. Maybe that thing you'd hoped for wasn't the right thing anyway.
...Cause I'm thinking about a brand new hope
The one I've never known, and where it goes.
And I'm thinking about the only road
The one I've never know, and where it goes
'Cause now I know
That it's all that I wanted.
-Macy's Day Parade (Green Day)
So, maybe it's been a crappy year and you're in a bad place in life. Maybe your troubles won't actually be far away this Christmas. It doesn't always have to be this way. There's a beautiful story out there to be lived, one where the hero gets through the conflict and finds a happy ending. That story might as well be yours.
The things we think we want are often smaller than the things that will actually bring us joy and peace. That new car won't make you happy. That broken relationship wasn't bringing out the best in you. That loneliness has made you look deeper into your soul and think about how to re-focus your energy. That disappointment wasn't the end of the line. But while you're dealing with it, buying stuff you don't need isn't going to make you happy.
You might want to turn off your faith in all that sustains you right now, but ultimately, it will be the very thing that guides you through.
So if you can't find much to celebrate this Christmas--if you can't find anything to celebrate at all--at least take comfort in what you can hope for, allowing for the possibility it might come in a different form than what you had planned. And take even more comfort in the idea that maybe there's something even better out there for you than what you've allowed yourself to hope.
And when it comes, maybe you'll know that it's all that you ever wanted.
Go. Celebrate family togetherness. Be thankful for what you have. Put on an overly colorful sweater and drink some eggnog. Enjoy some time away from work.
You have to. Whether you like it or not. Even if your family doesn't really like you and your life is lacking what seems most important (including an ugly Christmas sweater) and you don't get any extra time off for the holidays.
It's Christmas time, so plaster a smile on your face. Go shopping. If you buy things for people, they will like you. Right?
Today's the Macy's Day parade
Night of the living dead is on its way
with the credit report for duty called...
When I was a kid I thought
I wanted all the things that I haven't got
Oh, but I learned the hardest way...
Listen to the Christmas carols on the radio and see the pretty lights. Watch Elf and It's a Wonderful Life and drink some hot cider and get warm and fuzzy all over, whether you feel it or not. Most importantly, go spend some money. That's what our society promises will make you happy. Isn't it?
...then I realized what it took
to tell the difference between thieves and crooks
a lesson learned for me and you.
Give me something that I need
Satisfaction guaranteed to you.
What's the consolation prize?
Economy-sized dreams of hope...
And while you're at it, don't forget to take a moment--just a moment--to reflect on the deeper meaning of the day. It's the day that God personally came down to earth so that he could relate to the struggles we face first-hand and ultimately overcome them. And in his name, all oppression shall cease.
Eventually.
But probably not this Christmas season.
(I scraped my knees when I was praying
Found a demon in my safest haven.
Seems like it's getting harder to believe in anything
But just to get lost in all my selfish thoughts...)
Count your blessings this year. So many dreams have come. So many hopes fulfilled. So many seemingly impossible challenges that are now only distant memories. You did the right thing, and you always got rewarded for it, right? Right? Good things always happen to good people, after all. Because they deserved them. Just like you did!
(...I want to know what it'd be like
to find perfection in my pride
to see nothing in the light
Or turn it off, in all my spite
In all my spite, I'll turn it off...)
Or maybe you can't find much worthy of celebrating this holiday season and find yourself going through the motions instead.
Maybe the only thing you really want is a little break, but instead your Christmas looks more like your overly burdened regular life, only on steroids. Maybe life circumstances have you feeling like Christmas is going to fly by this year without you even having a chance to stop and notice it. Maybe it doesn't feel like Christmas because something's missing from your comfortable routine, and there's no way to get it back. Or maybe the whole enterprise is lost in the midst of a bigger life drama. Who can be excited about Christmas when you can barely survive the day?
(...And the worst part is
before it gets
any better we're
headed for a cliff
but in the freefall, I
will realize
I'm better off
when I hit the bottom)
-Turn it Off (Paramore)
If any of the above sounds familiar, don't worry. Despite what our culture tells you, you don't have to be happy this Christmas. Feel free to hit rock bottom instead. Things can only get better from there, and sometimes you have to find the point where all your plans and hopes go awry before you can set free your sense of control.
So, your plans for life didn't work out. It doesn't mean there isn't a better plan out there. And as Hayley Williams suggests above, you'll get farther by turning off your own expectations than by turning off your faith. Maybe that thing you'd hoped for wasn't the right thing anyway.
...Cause I'm thinking about a brand new hope
The one I've never known, and where it goes.
And I'm thinking about the only road
The one I've never know, and where it goes
'Cause now I know
That it's all that I wanted.
-Macy's Day Parade (Green Day)
So, maybe it's been a crappy year and you're in a bad place in life. Maybe your troubles won't actually be far away this Christmas. It doesn't always have to be this way. There's a beautiful story out there to be lived, one where the hero gets through the conflict and finds a happy ending. That story might as well be yours.
The things we think we want are often smaller than the things that will actually bring us joy and peace. That new car won't make you happy. That broken relationship wasn't bringing out the best in you. That loneliness has made you look deeper into your soul and think about how to re-focus your energy. That disappointment wasn't the end of the line. But while you're dealing with it, buying stuff you don't need isn't going to make you happy.
You might want to turn off your faith in all that sustains you right now, but ultimately, it will be the very thing that guides you through.
So if you can't find much to celebrate this Christmas--if you can't find anything to celebrate at all--at least take comfort in what you can hope for, allowing for the possibility it might come in a different form than what you had planned. And take even more comfort in the idea that maybe there's something even better out there for you than what you've allowed yourself to hope.
And when it comes, maybe you'll know that it's all that you ever wanted.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Bad Christmas Songs
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, which means the music on the radio is beginning to sound a lot like crap.
As we discussed in this space last year, few things irk the soul quite like bad Christmas songs. While plenty of wonderful Christmas songs help to make the season bright, on the flip side, just because a song mentions something about Christmas or snow doesn't make it good.
Plenty of songs are overly sappy or nonsensical, or in some cases, send appalling social messages.
As suggested by a reader last year (thanks Niki!) nothing epitomizes the latter category quite like "Baby It's Cold Outside," which she appropriate referred to as "The Date Rape Song."
The premise of the song is that the woman needs to go home for the night ("I really can't stay...") but the abusive jerk with whom she finds herself alone won't let her go. ("Baby, it's cold out there. It's up to your knees out there.")
Her family "will be suspicious" she says. "Your lips look delicious," the wicked, tone-deaf pervert replies.
She asks for his coat to counteract the cold on her way; he offers to pour her a drink. "What's in this drink?" she questions, clearly having determined the character of her would-be assailant. In response, he changes the subject in a transparent admission of guilt: "there are no cabs to be had out there."
"I ought to say no, no, no, sir," she implores.
"Mind if I come a little bit closer?" he replies, presumable with electric carving knife in hand.
And so it goes.
The tune of this horribly awful song is unfortunately catchy, so people ignore the lyrics. But there's really no reason it should be played at Christmas time. Like Jingle Bells, or "Let it Snow" the narrative takes place in winter, but there's nothing specifically Christmas-y about it. If they are going to play these songs on the radio, there's no reason to limit them to December.
And speaking of Jingle Bells, have you ever actually listened to those lyrics outside of the chorus?
A day or two ago
I thought I'd take a ride
And soon Miss Fanny Bright
Was sitting by my side
The horse was lean and lank
Misfortune seemed his lot
He got into a drifted bank
And then he got upsot
Oh jingle bells, jingle bells...
The events described are horrible. This is what passes for holiday cheer?
That poor, overworked animal needs to be put out of his misery, or maybe sold to a gentle farm where he can graze lazily in the pasture instead of carrying his master's lazy bones (not to mention his "Fanny") through a snowstorm on an ill-conceived joyride.
But when the chorus hits, we're left to forget about the poor equine and asked go bopping along to the cheerful chorus.
Frosty the Snowman fares no better on the social-message scale:
He led them down the streets of town
Right to the traffic cop
He only paused a moment when
He heard him holler stop.
In other words, when Little Suzy gets flattened by an oncoming semi-truck, you can thank her little snowman friend. The same "friend" who teaches kids to listen to ignore authority figures in favor of their "eccentric" 6-foot friend who for some reason only likes to hang out with little children.
But not all bad Christmas songs sent negative messages. Some are just odd.
The answer to "What child is this?" seems pretty obvious. It was Jesus.
I don't know why anyone "saw three ships come sailing in on Christmas day." Bethlehem is not on the coast, and the wise men didn't even come from that direction.
"Do you hear what I hear" implies that the shepherds heard "a child, a child shivering in the cold" and decided to "bring him silver and gold." Actually, the Gospels don't mention silver, and it was the wise men who brought the gold. And if they heard the Christ child cry from Bethlehem to Babylon, then he really did have a divine set of lungs.
Some songs are bad, but at least entertainingly so. Last year's favorite "Feed the World/Let Them Know It's Christmas Time" is a good--errr--bad example.
George Michael's "Last Christmas" is another. Let's start with the chorus:
Last Christmas I gave you my heart.
The very next day, you gave it away.
How, exactly, did that transaction work? Who did he give it to? Did he take it to a soup kitchen? Give it to some other lonely dude? (if so, how come that didn't work out?) Return it for store credit at Macy's?
Was it like the time my 8th grade crush gave my valentine to her little sister?
Whatever the case, that line doesn't make any sense, which is especially aggravating because the line so easily could have read "the very next day you tore it apart." That makes much more sense, and it even rhymes!
If you can overlook that line, the song is a poignant reflection on love lost but not entirely forgotten can overshadow holiday joy, and it's much more relatable to modern life than songs about riding in a one-horse open sleigh, whatever that is.
But it's hard to keep the inexplicable word choice from ringing in your ears long enough to think of anything else.
Or at least it is if you hear what I hear.
As we discussed in this space last year, few things irk the soul quite like bad Christmas songs. While plenty of wonderful Christmas songs help to make the season bright, on the flip side, just because a song mentions something about Christmas or snow doesn't make it good.
Plenty of songs are overly sappy or nonsensical, or in some cases, send appalling social messages.
As suggested by a reader last year (thanks Niki!) nothing epitomizes the latter category quite like "Baby It's Cold Outside," which she appropriate referred to as "The Date Rape Song."
The premise of the song is that the woman needs to go home for the night ("I really can't stay...") but the abusive jerk with whom she finds herself alone won't let her go. ("Baby, it's cold out there. It's up to your knees out there.")
Her family "will be suspicious" she says. "Your lips look delicious," the wicked, tone-deaf pervert replies.
She asks for his coat to counteract the cold on her way; he offers to pour her a drink. "What's in this drink?" she questions, clearly having determined the character of her would-be assailant. In response, he changes the subject in a transparent admission of guilt: "there are no cabs to be had out there."
"I ought to say no, no, no, sir," she implores.
"Mind if I come a little bit closer?" he replies, presumable with electric carving knife in hand.
And so it goes.
The tune of this horribly awful song is unfortunately catchy, so people ignore the lyrics. But there's really no reason it should be played at Christmas time. Like Jingle Bells, or "Let it Snow" the narrative takes place in winter, but there's nothing specifically Christmas-y about it. If they are going to play these songs on the radio, there's no reason to limit them to December.
And speaking of Jingle Bells, have you ever actually listened to those lyrics outside of the chorus?
A day or two ago
I thought I'd take a ride
And soon Miss Fanny Bright
Was sitting by my side
The horse was lean and lank
Misfortune seemed his lot
He got into a drifted bank
And then he got upsot
Oh jingle bells, jingle bells...
The events described are horrible. This is what passes for holiday cheer?
That poor, overworked animal needs to be put out of his misery, or maybe sold to a gentle farm where he can graze lazily in the pasture instead of carrying his master's lazy bones (not to mention his "Fanny") through a snowstorm on an ill-conceived joyride.
But when the chorus hits, we're left to forget about the poor equine and asked go bopping along to the cheerful chorus.
Frosty the Snowman fares no better on the social-message scale:
He led them down the streets of town
Right to the traffic cop
He only paused a moment when
He heard him holler stop.
In other words, when Little Suzy gets flattened by an oncoming semi-truck, you can thank her little snowman friend. The same "friend" who teaches kids to listen to ignore authority figures in favor of their "eccentric" 6-foot friend who for some reason only likes to hang out with little children.
But not all bad Christmas songs sent negative messages. Some are just odd.
The answer to "What child is this?" seems pretty obvious. It was Jesus.
I don't know why anyone "saw three ships come sailing in on Christmas day." Bethlehem is not on the coast, and the wise men didn't even come from that direction.
"Do you hear what I hear" implies that the shepherds heard "a child, a child shivering in the cold" and decided to "bring him silver and gold." Actually, the Gospels don't mention silver, and it was the wise men who brought the gold. And if they heard the Christ child cry from Bethlehem to Babylon, then he really did have a divine set of lungs.
Some songs are bad, but at least entertainingly so. Last year's favorite "Feed the World/Let Them Know It's Christmas Time" is a good--errr--bad example.
George Michael's "Last Christmas" is another. Let's start with the chorus:
Last Christmas I gave you my heart.
The very next day, you gave it away.
How, exactly, did that transaction work? Who did he give it to? Did he take it to a soup kitchen? Give it to some other lonely dude? (if so, how come that didn't work out?) Return it for store credit at Macy's?
Was it like the time my 8th grade crush gave my valentine to her little sister?
Whatever the case, that line doesn't make any sense, which is especially aggravating because the line so easily could have read "the very next day you tore it apart." That makes much more sense, and it even rhymes!
If you can overlook that line, the song is a poignant reflection on love lost but not entirely forgotten can overshadow holiday joy, and it's much more relatable to modern life than songs about riding in a one-horse open sleigh, whatever that is.
But it's hard to keep the inexplicable word choice from ringing in your ears long enough to think of anything else.
Or at least it is if you hear what I hear.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Thankfulness
It's been a tough year, but that only underscores the need to appreciate what's gone right. Here's what spring to mind:
1. I don't have to go to work today.
2. The good health of those I love, after a rough stretch last year.
3. People who care.
4. I don't have to go to work tomorrow.
5. That the turkey I made last night (I named him Jeremy) just might be the best one I've ever done.
6. New friends and new beginnings.
7. I don't have to go to work on Saturday--and there's football.
8. The memory of hard times overcome and promise of better things ahead, through he who gives me strength.
9. Loving the city I live in now, and the thought of breathing the salty sea air when I back where I grew up tonight. It's awesome to live in cities that have unique identities.
10. I don't have to go to work on Sunday--and there's more football.
11. Not having to conform my thoughts to conventional top-ten lists.
12. Vacations.
13. Blog readers.
Have a wonderful thanksgiving, and don't forget to be appreciate what's in front of you. I'll see you soon.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Reader Mail: On Holiday
Every few months, Andrew Smith makes up fake questions to which he offers ridiculous answers in his running feature: Ask Andrew. This isn't one of those months. Instead, it's merely a regular question and answer session. For reasons to be explained, you should lower your expectations accordingly.
Q: Andrew- Are you going to blog this December or are you going to re-live your tradition of Mailing It in for the Holidays? (As described here.)
A: As much as I'd like some rest this holiday season, there's just too much good material to pass up. I'm especially looking forward to revisiting more Bad Christmas Songs. But I do need a little break, so I'm going to take a few weeks off in November instead. My birthday was last week and this little break is present to myself.
I checked with my wife, who keeps up with these things much than I do, and we can even afford this one.
Q: So, how long are you taking off? And why?
A: I just need a few weeks. My current life schedule is so busy that I don't have time to keep a calendar. Instead, I just wait for the panicked calls of others asking me why I'm not wherever I was supposed to be half an hour ago.
This way, I don't get stressed about everything on my plate. Life is simpler that way. At least for me.
But those around me would probably tell you that I need a little break. At least, they would if they weren't on their phones trying to figure out why I missed my latest appointment.
Q: Wait, this was supposed to be "Reader Mail," but the second question here clearly built upon the first one. I don't see how that's possible.
A: That's not a question.
Q: So what are we to do without you this month?
A: Well, for one thing you migh--
Q: Ok, stop. You're clearly making up these questions. No one would actually ask you that.
A: Umm...
Let's just move on.
Q: Last week was your birthday. Don't you usually do a post about what you learned this year in your life?
A: Yes, but there's no time for reflection in my life these days. That's why I need this break.
But ok, since I'm here, 5 quick things: (1) the raccoon in your attic is not your friend. (2) There's no reason to get to a movie theater until at least 20 minutes after the listed start time unless you expect it to be sold out. (3) the lower you set your expectations, the more disappointed you'll be when they aren't met. So sometimes it's best not to have any at all. For example, if you failed to heed my initial advice about lowering your expectations for this blog post, you are most likely sorely disappointed by this point. (4) Forgive. (5) It's weird that being "disruptive" is bad, but being "ruptive" isn't even a thing.
Q: Any closing thoughts?
A: Funny I should ask. I need a fourteen hour nap, a long vacation, and answers to a couple specific prayers. But since I can't count on getting anything more than a long weekend (thank you, Veterans!) and a trip to upstate New York to see my awesome Aunt and Uncle, I'm going to take a few weeks off from the blog to get some rest.
I'll see you back here somewhere around Thanksgiving. I think the blog will be better for the break, but if the blog still doesn't meet your expectations, well, you should take my advice and lower them.
Q: Andrew- Are you going to blog this December or are you going to re-live your tradition of Mailing It in for the Holidays? (As described here.)
A: As much as I'd like some rest this holiday season, there's just too much good material to pass up. I'm especially looking forward to revisiting more Bad Christmas Songs. But I do need a little break, so I'm going to take a few weeks off in November instead. My birthday was last week and this little break is present to myself.
I checked with my wife, who keeps up with these things much than I do, and we can even afford this one.
Q: So, how long are you taking off? And why?
A: I just need a few weeks. My current life schedule is so busy that I don't have time to keep a calendar. Instead, I just wait for the panicked calls of others asking me why I'm not wherever I was supposed to be half an hour ago.
This way, I don't get stressed about everything on my plate. Life is simpler that way. At least for me.
But those around me would probably tell you that I need a little break. At least, they would if they weren't on their phones trying to figure out why I missed my latest appointment.
Q: Wait, this was supposed to be "Reader Mail," but the second question here clearly built upon the first one. I don't see how that's possible.
A: That's not a question.
Q: So what are we to do without you this month?
A: Well, for one thing you migh--
Q: Ok, stop. You're clearly making up these questions. No one would actually ask you that.
A: Umm...
Let's just move on.
Q: Last week was your birthday. Don't you usually do a post about what you learned this year in your life?
A: Yes, but there's no time for reflection in my life these days. That's why I need this break.
But ok, since I'm here, 5 quick things: (1) the raccoon in your attic is not your friend. (2) There's no reason to get to a movie theater until at least 20 minutes after the listed start time unless you expect it to be sold out. (3) the lower you set your expectations, the more disappointed you'll be when they aren't met. So sometimes it's best not to have any at all. For example, if you failed to heed my initial advice about lowering your expectations for this blog post, you are most likely sorely disappointed by this point. (4) Forgive. (5) It's weird that being "disruptive" is bad, but being "ruptive" isn't even a thing.
Q: Any closing thoughts?
A: Funny I should ask. I need a fourteen hour nap, a long vacation, and answers to a couple specific prayers. But since I can't count on getting anything more than a long weekend (thank you, Veterans!) and a trip to upstate New York to see my awesome Aunt and Uncle, I'm going to take a few weeks off from the blog to get some rest.
I'll see you back here somewhere around Thanksgiving. I think the blog will be better for the break, but if the blog still doesn't meet your expectations, well, you should take my advice and lower them.
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