Yesterday a most wonderful holiday "card" arrived in the mail - a holiday music mix by Tara and Marissa, complete with the cutest picture printed on the CD of their little family around the Christmas tree that makes me want to fly to Massashoeshitts and squeeze Tara, Marissa, and their little dog (and cats) too. Love them.

Of course, the holiday mix is awesome, because Tara and Marissa have impeccable taste in music (the only exception being their distaste for Justin Timberlake's sweet beats). It starts with Baby, It's Cold Outside, a remixed version with Louis Armstrong and ... someone (is it Velma Middleton? If so, thank you, Google) that I have never heard before. Funny, in the post that got eaten by my computer the other night, I went on and on about how much I love that song, and how when Dolly Parton sang it at her concert the a few weeks ago (the one I keep mentioning but haven't written about yet) it made me so happy I nearly cried. So, of course - the first song rocks my face off.

At lunch today, I spent most of my lunch hour driving around listening to the CD. (First, actually, I went to the post office to ship some last minute Christmas gifts that cost approximately one million dollars for guaranteed two-day delivery. The postman kind of laughed in my face when I looked shocked at the price, like "Yes, woman, things cost more when you put them off until the last minute. Now here's a dull knife - go ahead and cut off your left arm, we'll take it as a down payment." You know what else amazes me? The people that go to the post office and stand in line, holding whatever they are shipping in one hand, and the box and bubble wrap (still in its packaging) in the other, and then wait until they are standing at the counter to assemble the package. Um, hello, Nana? We are standing in line. Next to a counter. That you can assemble your package on. Not to mention the fact that you could have done that at home, Nana. Seriously.) So, I'm driving around, grooving to some song about surfing and Christmas (Beach Boys?),and later drying my eyes after the Pretenders' 2000 Miles (We would also like to know if Chrissy Hynde needs to borrow a few bucks, just to get her by until payday or something? Gah, that still cracks me up), and then the best holiday song EVER comes on: The Christians and The Pagans by Dar Williams. Here are some of the lyrics, in case you are unfamiliar:

Amber called her uncle, said "We're up here for the holiday,
Jane and I were having Solstice, now we need a place to stay."
And her Christ-loving uncle watched his wife hang Mary on a tree,
He watched his song hang candy canes all made with red dye number three.
He told his niece, "Its Christmas Eve, I know our life is not your style,"
She said, "Christmas is like Solstice, and we miss you and its been awhile,"

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said,
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses.

The song itself it just fun to listen to, but of course, I'm all about the mutual acceptance of spirtual traditions and stuff as well. I listened to it twice on repeat while waiting in line for my grilt stuft burrito at Taco Hell, and made my Homies dance around with the Christians and the Pagans just for fun. When the cashier finally opened his window to hand me my grilt stuft and take my money, he heard the "Christians and the Pagans..." chorus of the song and gave me a funny, nose-wrinkly look. Half a minute later, he opened the window again to hand me my change, and gave me a rather forced "Merry CHRIST-mas" with a "Hrmph" noise and the classic drop-the-change-in-your-hand-so-I-don't-have-to-touch-you,-you-weird-ass-devil-worshipper thing. So, of course, I took the change and said, "Happy Solstice to you, sir!" and drove away. Hrmph. (Now, I know Winter Solstice was yesterday, but I'm pretty sure the man has no idea what Solstice is, anyway. Now he probably thinks it some sort of demonic goat sacrifice, for Hey-soos sake. Whatever.)

Well, I really can't stay (baby it's fracking cold outside); I've got to go away (baby it's mother-fracking cold outside!). Happy Solstice, everyone.

Lucy loves you |