Ye old songs of Christmas - Why they're so cool.

Out of all my favorite Christmas memories, perhaps my favorite memory isn't one specific moment but a consistent theme connected with all my Christmas memories: Christmas music.

This year, I have been overwhelmed by old Christmas songs. I'm referencing the classics, not so much "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree", even though I like that song a lot. I want to focus on not only the songs themselves, but the idea that they are widely accepted and even celebrated in our culture. If you think about it, that is extremely noteworthy.

Let me give you an example: The First Noel, (originally The First Nowell - The word Noel comes from the French word Noël meaning "Christmas", from the Latin word natalis ("birth"). Granted this song may be heard in churches, cantatas and other ceremonial holiday events but even in a living room, around a campfire or a Christmas party, most everyone who hears it accepts it, and perhaps celebrates the spirit of the song. (Or at least what our culture has transformed the spirit of this song and many others to mean.)

The last sentence I just typed, is crucial to understand my point. Regardless of beliefs or opinions - it would be hard to argue that Christmas in our culture is surrounded with commercialism. And I also tend to believe that should an artist today pen a song concerning a pregnant teenager who was rumored of giving birth to Jesus in a barn, it would most likely not be accepted or celebrated now or later.

I know, it's not fair to say that as fact, because we can't predict the future and I guess it very well could happen, but I admit I'm skeptical. Why? Because almost anything publicized connected with Jesus is scrutinized heavily today. It's offensive or unconstitutional. Stick with me for just a second. Can you imagine Taylor Swift (I beg your mercy...but I have to make a point) coming out with a well written song that details a historical event about the story of Jesus being born, some elements of why sources explain that he had to come to earth, and perhaps even some biblical opinions of the consequences of his life and death here on earth? She could kiss her career goodbye. (tears streaming)

Perhaps the most unique, (and supernatural in my opinion), thing is that these old Christmas songs are still wildly popular today. They still make money galore. People buy CD's, iTunes music etc with songs that have a whole lot to do with spiritual things regarding the birth of Jesus.

I'm so glad Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a poem called "Christmas Bells" during the harsh civil war even when his world was crumbling, because we now have a song called I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. In the 18th Century we got The First Nowell. Again in 1833 Sandys published God Rest You Merry Gentlemen. In 1710 Psalteriolum Cantionum Catholicarum, Köln published O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. If it weren't for these people we simply wouldn't experience Christmas as we know it. And years from now, no one else would have songs like them to enjoy either...because no one can, or will write them today and no one can, or will publish them today. It's a remarkable thing. Or at least it is for me.

Maybe when you hear O Come all ye Faithful, or Silent Night, or Joy to the World this year you'll hear remarkable music, rich history and a mysterious wonderful sound that has been alive for many years and will live for many more.

More than just a song

A few weeks back, I spent the weekend at a lake cabin with some friends. The original idea was to rally twenty or so old school friends with the hope of remembering some really great things that have happened in recent years. As it turns out, there were less of us than I planned and it was just about perfect.

It's important to know when the dynamic is: fire, lake cabin, spittoon, and drink - it would take the strength of several full grown southern men to stop me from picking up the guitar and encouraging anyone who has musical talent to join in the fun. And it just so happens that after yapping for an hour or two, we all had instruments in hand, whisky poured, recorder rolling and some homegrown music. (I'll post a tune or two next week.)

We are by no means professional musicians, writers or singers - but I have full confidence we could hold our own in most any bar/campfire setting you might dream up. There was an old-Hank, bluegrass, folk smell in the air. After a few well known classics, an original song would often emerge; some complete but most still works in progress.

Original songs may or may not be attractive to any given listener, but there is something true in a song that has meaning to its author. Most of these songs will never be heard by many and they are often sung with shaky voices. They are authentic and pure. I am convinced that out of the millions of songs penned by the unknowns there are masterpieces in that large haystack that would stir the hardest of hearts.

There was such a song that night at the cabin. I hate that I do not have it to upload here in this post, but I do hope it shows itself soon. I'm not certain of the title, but I will share a bit of the lyrics with you:

The wind blows where she wants to
She's like my woman, with a mind of her own
But if you listen, with her there's rhythm
Words of wisdom roll of her tongue

I wonder what inspires us to write? Songs. Poems. Blogs. Letters. etc

For me it's so many things. The most recent is a photo of my bride picking a yellow leaf during a walk we took on Thanksgiving with our children.

So keep your ears peeled and there just may be a song or two here in the near future. Or send me yours and we'll post it to...unless it's really bad, then probably not.

Find something that is beautiful. Something inspiring. Something pure and good. Something horrible that makes you angry. A bitter memory or whenever you buried someone you love. There's a quote that I love and a good friend shared it with me when he was following his dream:

"Most people die with their music inside them."

Don't let it be you. I won't either. 

A battle of the manlies

First, let me shout quickly that I plan to post on ye ol' blog weekly, however I was distracted last week with nasal surgery (deviated septum) and although the thought did cross my mind that others would enjoy the details, I managed to detain myself from writing or posting photos. Since I'm still on the mend, you will be forced to have somewhat of a Tomfoolery post this week. Next week I will return with more of the goods.

Now everyone knows that riding a bike is manly. The sheer thought of straddling anything uncomfortable is close to impossible to resist. But when you add motion and exercise it's off the chart irresistible. (Similar to anything on the grill during football season.)

I've been teaching (and by teaching I mean something similar to teaching) my oldest to ride a bike. It's a workout all by itself. If you've been there, you know it's fun, frustrating, exciting, hard but so good when they 'get it.'

In the process of doing something similar to teaching, I decided to give an example of how the laws of gravity, balance and muscle activity which I had just explained practically play out. So how better to do that then on said bike for which my child was learning to ride. AKA The Barbie Bike.

Long story short: my wife captured the event and posted it on her blog. (Sweet) Well, numerous friends thought it was funny and since then one particular Dad has put forth efforts in which to match...dare I say, one up me. So I thought it only fair to compare / contrast the two examples for a very objective evaluation.

Pictured from left to right: Me, then him (for the sake of illustration let's say his name is "Justin".) And if we must wear labels, Me shall be referred to as Super Dad. Obviously the first observation would be that Super Dad is riding solo, where as "Justin" is accompanied by a child. I can only assume this is a deliberate attempt to show that he may posses superior strength or super-human powers or perhaps that he may have laser vision or fly around the world so that it results in time moving backward. Friends, this is not true. In fact, were I to wrestle this "Justin" clearly I would win in approximately 2:41 seconds in which it would all end in a move known in Greco Roman wrestling as "The Grapevine." 

It's not hard to see that Super Dad is focused, with one goal, striving, working and moving in a singular vision..."Justin" looks to be casually strolling, as without purpose - which not surprisingly will be noticed by the young child he embraces and will result in countless hours of discipline in the teenage years. Aside from other notable differences such as Super Dad's superior build, strong beard and Jesus sandals, it also appears that "Justin" is indeed still in training wheels.

I find it sad, that this man, this, "Justin" would stoop to this level to try and compete with what clearly is an area beyond his expertise. But alas, there is grace my friends. And because of this I recant. Well done "Justin" you are on your way to being a Super Man. May you unfurl your sails to the isle of Bikini.

Beaver Chew - a review of non-tobacco snuff

I always doubt people when they get on a health kick. Or a new diet. Or a work out plan. That's because, from my experience, most people start their new found "habit" but can't stick with it. I have found that if you choose your new "habit" wisely, it's easy to stick with it.

For example about six months ago I fell in love with bluegrass. Not just the sound. Not just the meaning of the songs. But the big ole umbrella of it: Flat-pickin', boots, front porch, whiskey and tobacco feel of it all. On any typical day, if you land in my office or hitch a ride in my truck, you'll hear Doc Watson, Ralph Stanley, Dan Tyminski, Tony Rice, Old Crow and a ton of others.

In my pursuit of embracing the heart of bluegrass I thought to myself, "I think I'll chew tobacco." I didn't say it as though I would give it a shot, or try it for a while. I meant: I am going to start this, stick with it and be a tobacco chewer. And I must tell you that it has been easy and splendid.

However, recently I have been distracted by the HUGE label on the pouch which reads something like: IF YOU OPEN THIS POUCH YOU WILL MOST LIKELY DIE VERY SOON OF CANCER AND YOUR MOUTH WILL IMPLODE. But remember, I decided months ago to be a chewer right? I couldn't just quit. I would be just like the guy who quits his diet after he gets hungry, or the woman who quits running after the second week because it's hard. I had to persevere.

After considering my alternatives, I chose a Mint Snuff called Beaver Chew. It's made of mint leaves and manufactured out of Tillamook, Oregon (beautiful country I'm sure.) I purchased two cans online because round these parts, you can't find it. (BTW, $6.00 a can! Ouch)  And after reading some reviews I must say I was quite excited. A few days later my Beaver has arrived!

When I punctured the can I could immediately smell a strong mint flavor, which was pretty cool. I knew that mint was good for you. Indeed a healthy alternative to smokeless tobacco and has also been known to help with soothing the stomach and things of this nature. The mint actually looked tobacco-ish. But there were little green seeds it seemed in the mix as well. I found it hard to grab the mint but finally managed to get a dip (and it resembles dip much more than chew) and put it in my mouth.

This is when everything went down hill. The Beaver Chew was very grain like. It's consistency was different than tobacco and didn't stick together nicely - making it quite a mess. And well, it just wasn't good. After five minutes of trying, I spit it out. I was done with the beaver.

I knew of it's health benefit. But just couldn't stomach the overall performance of the mint chew. Plus, if I'm being honest - I felt like the heroes of bluegrass were disappointed with me for turning my back on the Redman. So tonight when the kids are settled down and my bride pulls out a book to read; while I pick out a tune on the flat-top I just might open that Beaver Chew can...and use it for a spittoon.