Saturday, December 22, 2007

Holiday Shit in Syndication (Or, Yes, It's a Rerun)

Yes, yes, yes. Eight days have rolled on by me without touching a thing about BV.

To make matters worse, I have nothing new to say today.

So, in lieu of bitching and moaning and moaning and bitching about not writing any further, here's a big little highly appropriate ditty that I wrote on December 13, 2005 originally titled J-J-J-J-J-J-Jing-Jang-Jang.

Enjoy.

As the holiday season deepens and deepens and my yearly sojourn to visit my parents in Northeast Ohio approaches, one thought barrels through my head: how many times will my mother play Barbra Streisand's Christmas album?

Other classic holiday collections have entered her possession over the years, yet none seem to last in the CD player longer than a song or two. Once Barbra's album finishes, and the pregnant pause of empty, un-Streisand holiday air fills the living room, my mom will get a curious look on her face, like she knows a storm is coming or she has just witnessed the cat writhing in the corner, overdosed on catnip, or she has left her pocketbook neglectfully at the Clinique counter of the local department store (where she is wont to worship the latest shade or fragrance or anything that comes with a free gift with purchase). When she realizes it is just the absence of the ironic, heated flow of Christmas music from America's most famous Jewess, she never fails to lean in to me and whisper:

"Trev, honey. Go press play on the CD player."

She knows I will obey and let the insanity of that famously hyper version of "Jingle Bells" fill up the room one more time.

She knows that if she were to ask my brother or stepdad Joe to attend to the music, Frank Sinatra or Sammy Davis Jr. or any number of the other neglected stars of yesteryear would receive holiday airtime she's not willing to give up.

Every year, another new compilation of holiday music ends up in the stack of albums.

Every year, Barbra's triumphantly kitsch white fuzzy gown and Egyptian eyeliner steal the show mercilessly, giving my mom a spring in her step as she cooks in the kitchen (a very new past time) and a light in her eyes echoed by the bodily giddiness she exudes in having her two sons home for the holidays.

4 comments:

David said...

Can't you get your mom the 2001 Streisand Xmas album for a bit of variety. Have a good one.

Shirley Heezgay! said...

Have a wonderful Christmas! I say, "Imbibe the spirits of the season and learn to live with the Barbra!"

Safe travels!

thonnibg said...

Merry Christmas to you and your family,Trevor!!!

xx
Toni

mrpeenee said...

here's to you and especially your mom, my kinda gal. Happy xanax. I mean, xmas.