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When Christmas Carols Go Wrong

christmas_carols

I was out at the mall today buy­ing some stuff and and heard Bing Crosby singing “We Wish You a Merry Christ­mas” over the inter­com speak­ers and, being in a good mood that I was, lis­tened very closely to the lyrics. If you take them lit­er­ally the lyrics make the singer sound like a tool. There isn’t any men­tion of ‘please’ at all. Think of it this way — car­ol­ers are singing out­side of someone’s house.…

We wish you a Merry Christ­mas;
We wish you a Merry Christ­mas;
We wish you a Merry Christ­mas and a Happy New Year!”

Wow, thanks guys. Merry Christ­mas to you too.”

Now bring us some figgy pudding.”

Okay, have a good night. Stay warm!”

No, bring us some figgy pudding.”

Figgy pud­ding?”

Yes. Figgy pud­ding. Now. We won’t go until we get some.”

Stop it. Leave.”

No.”

I don’t have any figgy pud­ding. What is figgy pudding?”

We won’t go until we get some.”

Why?”

Because. We love figgy pudding.”

I DON’T HAVE ANY FIGGY PUDDING.”

What the — dude? We car­oled for you. Now bring us some figgy pud­ding. Bring some right here.”

Get it your­self. I don’t have any figgy pudding.”

We won’t go until we get some.”

Peo­ple, leave! Now! No figgy pud­ding here! Not going to be any either!”

We’re not leaving.”

Get out of here! I don’t have any figgy pudding.”

Ok, bring us a figgy pud­ding and a cup of good cheer then.”

Dude, I’m going to show you some good cheer in a few min­utes. Let me get my .12 gauge of good cheer for you.”

The Creative Mind of George Lucas Divines a New Star Wars Character

george_lucas

The Place: Sky­walker Ranch.
The Sit­u­a­tion: A cre­ative meet­ing is tak­ing place to cre­ate a new Star Wars char­ac­ter who will be the focus of a new live action tele­vi­sion series that takes place between The Empire Strikes Back and The Return of the Jedi.Major brain­storm­ing is going on.
The Peo­ple: Present are George Lucas and the Lucas­Film data­bank keeper.

Data­bank Keeper — “Okay, so what have we got so far?“
George Lucas — “Noth­ing. We have noth­ing.“
DK — “Alright…what is it? Human, crea­ture of some sort.…something…“
GL — “Not human. We have enough humans. Make it a crea­ture.“
DK — “Sen­tient or not?“
GL — “Def­i­nitely sen­tient.“
DK — “Wise or not?“
GL — “Wise? Like Yoda?“
DK — “Yeah.“
GL -  “Hmm…not so wise. Just nor­mal.“
DK — “Okay, a nor­mal crea­ture. What does it look like?“
GL — “Furry. Tall and furry.“
DK — “Like a Wook­iee?“
GL — “Okay…no, make it short.“
DK — “Like an Ewok?“
GL*Sigh* “Scratch furry. Make it scaly. And green.“
DK — “Like Greedo?“
GL — “…Okay. Scaly, green, big beaver teeth.“
DK — “Like Wal­rus Man?“
GL — “Why is this so hard?“
DK — “I don’t know. You thought this stuff up.“
GL — “Short. Pigish…creature.“
DK — “Like an Ugnaught?“
*George hits his fist on the desk — repeat­edly*
GL — “Okay, not scaly and green. Scaly and…orange.“
DK — “…Orange is good.“
GL — “Yes, orange is good. Don’t have many orange crea­tures.“
DK — “What do we call the orange creature’s species?“
GL — “How about a…Rith.“
DK — “No can do. Too close to ‘Bith’. And ‘Sith’.“
GL — “Toy­nar­ian! Vim­ban­ite! Morax! Any­thing!“
DK — “Toy­dar­ian, Mim­ban­ite, Gorax. Already done.“
GL — “Okay…Flangian.“
DK — “Flan­gian?“
GL — “Yes. A Flan­gian. He will be a Flan­gian.“
DK — “Where did you come up with that?“
GL — “I just…cre­ated…it.“
DK — “Fine. What’s the Flangian’s back­story?“
*Silence for 5 min­utes*
GL — “The Flan­gian was recruited by crim­i­nal ele­ments on his home world, Flan­gia, and even­tu­ally grew up on a crime boss’ ship, the Bardo’s Luck. He even­tu­ally bought his free­dom from the crime boss and joined went to the Impe­r­ial Acad­emy. He was a good pilot but he got kicked out for…some reason…so he got back into crime and smuggled…things…around the galaxy. And then for…some reason…he got caught up in the Rebel­lion.“
DK — “…That’s Han Solo.“
GL — “YYYYYYYAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!“
He breaks a tech­ni­cal Oscar against the wall.

DK — “You know this isn’t easy, George! Remem­ber how long it took you to come up with Yoda?“
GL — “Jar Jar was so much sim­pler.“
DK — “Yeah, but the whole ‘race’ thing with him…“
GL — “Yeah, that sucked.“
DK — “Yeah.“
GL — “Okay…he grew up privledged, but then was sent to a farm when his par­ents died. He moved to a swamp planet and then after being hunted down by Dark Jedi he fled there to go live with…Ewoks or some­thing. And his best friend, he’s a Jedi too, and so his friend and he love the same girl but finally have a duel on a space plat­form -“
DK — “…You’re kidding…right?“
GL — “…What?“
DK — “That’s like every­body you’ve ever cre­ated in the whole saga, main-character-wise.“
GL — “Hey, who came up with this? Me? Yes, me! I’m detect­ing a more crit­i­cal tone than usual, so don’t screw with me! Mak­ing this stuff up is hard!“
DK — “Well exsqueeze me.“
GL — “Shut up, Jar Jar.“
DK — “Okay, easy one. What’s his name?“
GL — “How about…Fluke Bolo?“
DK — “Or Gorge Mucus? Come on, man! Are you kid­ding? Are you really out of ideas? Come on, man!“
*George hangs his head*
DK — “What should we call our scaly orange Flan­gian? I don’t know. Just say what­ever pops into your head. That’ll be his name.“
GL — “Bill.“
DK — “Bill?“
GL — “That’s the first thing that popped into my head.“
*George twid­dles his thumbs*
GL — “Okay, we can work with…Bill.”

Michael Jackson

thisisit

I thank my lucky stars every­day that my fam­ily and I were over­seas from mid-June through mid-July. We went to Italy. It was won­der­ful and we had a great time and our fam­ily felt bet­ter again since Kim and I had been work­ing 60+ hour weeks.

In the town of Loro Ciufenna that we were stay­ing there was a news­stand that sold, on each Sun­day, one copy of the Inter­na­tional Her­ald Tri­bune. The IHT is the Euro­pean ver­sion of the New York Times, but from a decid­edly Euro-centric view­point, but you still have to put up with Paul Krug­man and Roger Cohen. So the first time we bought the IHT (for  2 Euro) and splashed across the front page was a story about Michael Jack­son, sort of a career ret­ro­spec­tive and how it men­tioned that he had planned to tour in the fall. Only after 10 or so para­graphs did it men­tion that he was dead.

Wow. Michael Jack­son was dead? I called my mother and asked her when it had hap­pened and was told that it was a few days after we had left the States, which made me happy to be in Italy, because it meant that I didn’t have to live through all of the crap that was going on in the States about how, oh my God, he’s dead! What hap­pened? What will we do with­out this lov­able eccen­tric genius who died before his time? Let’s all run out right this freak­ing sec­ond and buy every­thing that we can that has Michael Jackson’s voice or pic­ture or essence on it!

Sup­pos­edly Michael Jackson’s estate has earned over $100 mil­lion since his death. And yes, I feel for his chil­dren, whom I’m sure loved their father, even though he nick­named one of them Blan­ket. And I’m sure that his fam­ily was sad when he died, but I hope there is some remorse they feel cash­ing checks for every­thing from their shares of his estate to the new real­ity series that is going to be broad­cast with most of the Jack­sons in it. I’m prob­a­bly being pes­simistic, given what human nature is really like, of course.

I think that the thing that gets me the most about this Michael love is that every­one seems to have for­got­ten how com­pletely freaky this per­son they are wor­ship­ing was. All of these “Thriller” dance things and “Thriller” on Party City tele­vi­sion ads and Nev­er­land Ranch and the child-sex thing — what the — ? This per­son, only a few years ago, was con­sid­ered a freak of nature, a pos­si­ble child rapist and under­stand­ably dis­trusted by many peo­ple. Is the new love the prod­uct of a remark­able PR cam­paign? It’s def­i­nitely pos­si­ble. Who knows.

And why do I care? Part of the “Thriller” thing is, I’m sure, a long-lost love of an ephemeral, imag­ined 1980’s and a sim­pler time. Do peo­ple feel lonely for this? Should I care at all?

Give it a lit­tle while. It will go away.

I hope.

Wilco at the Palladium and the Perils of a Band Giving Their Third Album a Goofy Name

AM-cover

When I was 19 I got to see one of my favorite bands of all time, Uncle Tupelo, play at a club in Dal­las called Trees. I was a DJ at the Bay­lor Uni­ver­sity sta­tion and had heard that they were going to be in Dal­las open­ing for Dri­vin’ n’ Cryin’, which I didn’t really like, but gladly paid the $20 to see that night. My friend Kath­leen and I drove the 90 miles north­ward to go to the show and I was blown away. Jay Far­rar broke more stings on his gui­tar than I could believe and Jeff Tweedy was cool in a doughy kind of way on bass. They ripped through track after track and ended their set after about 30 min­utes. It was amazing.

After that Kat and I left. Like I said, I didn’t like Dri­vin’ n’ Cryin’, so I didn’t stay, but I fol­lowed the band I went to see for the next sev­eral years. I didn’t see them live any­more, but I got all of their albums and watched their pro­gres­sion from country-rock (start­ing with “No Depres­sion”) to a mix­ture of blue­grass and country-folk (“Ano­dyne”). I didn’t know about all of the inter­nal tur­moil that was going on within the band at the time, I just thought they were great. And it hit me hard when I heard that they’d bro­ken up. Great bands break up every other day, but this one hit me rather hard. I really liked them and now I had to stop being lazy and find some­thing new to lis­ten to.

Of course, I didn’t have to wait long. Far­rar went out and formed Son Volt and Tweedy formed Wilco.

And if I’d been look­ing for a band to like after the breakup of Uncle Tupelo, Wilco was real love.

Their first album “A.M.” is fan­tas­tic. It con­tin­ued an already estab­lished sound that Tweedy and begun with Uncle Tupelo and car­ried it a step fur­ther, in more of a Rolling Stones direc­tion. If CDs could wear out I would have worn out “A.M.” by now. It is still one of my favorite com­fort albums to lis­ten to.

Their sec­ond album is less than per­fect though. “Being There” has great moments, but inter­spersed through it are tracks that I could have done with­out (‘Outta Mind, Outta Sight’, ‘King­pin’, ‘Hotel Ari­zona’) and that made me not love it as much as I wanted to. Not say­ing it isn’t good, it is, but I didn’t have that total uncon­di­tional love that I’d felt with “A.M.”.

After that a year or so went by and they came out with “Sum­mer­teeth”. And I thought, “Hmm…that’s a stu­pid album title.”

And my love for them stopped there. It was like peo­ple who like kids from TV shows in the 70’s. Peter Billings­ley never aged beyond A Christ­mas Story. Mark Hamill never aged past Star Wars. Cryo­geni­cally frozen, my love for Wilco stayed. And that was 1999.

Fast for­ward to a week and a half ago.

My friend Jimi has an extra ticket to their show at the Pal­la­dium, his wife doesn’t like the exper­i­men­tal gui­tar work of cur­rent Wilco gui­tarist Nels Cline, and they can’t get a babysit­ter, so a free ticket is mine for the tak­ing if I want it. And I do. So we go.

And the show was great. They played for about 2 hours plus and, strangely, didn’t play much off of the 2 albums that I love so much. Mostly from “Sum­mer­teeth”, “A Ghost is Born” and “Yan­kee Hotel Fox­trot”. So now I’m catch­ing up on my edu­ca­tion by lis­ten­ing to their other albums.

And I have one thing for Mr. Tweedy. Please, Jeff, no more goofy album titles. I’d rather we didn’t break up again for such a long period of time. Thank you.