The “Grump’s Guide” to Christmas music

No matter how cold it is where you live, Alaskans have it worse. I take special pride in having survived another morning (this one at -12° F/-24° C) at these temperatures. After a recent hour-long walk outdoors (don’t worry, I won’t do that again!) I had aged about thirty years with fully frost-encrusted hair, eyelashes, and eyebrows. I say nothing of the frozen snot.

I choose to take pride in this awful weather because my misery is best saved for January and February, the traditional times of frigid cold. It’s hard to find anything to be glad about when the temperature is hovering on the wrong side of 0° Fahrenheit. But I persevere, for your sake at least, and have found ten things in which to rejoice…or not.

10. I’ve have, thus far, been exposed to only one country music Christmas song.

9. There are no curse words or crude phrasing in Christmas songs. I’ve lunged for the volume in the car when pop music becomes a little too frank. “You want to do what to whom?! Good grief, I have kids in the car, get a room! And stay off the lawn!” The objectionable bit about Christmas music lyrics is the whining about how many gifts the singer deserves.

8. The grocery stores (which I note have started playing background music) forgot to change their regularly scheduled music to Christmas music. So I can still enjoy Sir Mix-a-Lot whilst shopping for deodorant and radishes. Whew! I don’t know how I managed to shop for essentials without the thrum and thump of music.

7. No new Mariah Carey Christmas album this year.

6. Elevator music in December: another reason to take the stairs.

5. Are we living through a golden age for Christmas recordings? If Ella, Bing, Eartha, and Frank are the high bar for Christmas singers, where should Monsieur Bolton, the Dave Matthews Band, Hanson, Miss Jessica Simpson, Twisted Sister, and the New Kids on the Block be placed? I’m thinking ankle high, but that’s just me. I make an exception for Enya. She’s not taking a dirt nap, and can still rock a Christmas song. Any other living singers make the high bar? You tell me, I don’t get out much.

And if the Sinatra decades were the Christmas golden years, I must mention those that were solid tin. The 1980’s were the epicenter of the mess, and I include a good portion of the 70’s and 90’s in the unpleasant aftershocks. If I hear George Michael breathlessly regret that “Last Christmas” I gave you my heart, just one more time, I won’t be responsible for the ensuing destruction of the nearest electronic equipment. Get over it, George, and just try to concentrate on whether you are in the proper mood for buying gifts (see number 3). And will I ever forgive Paul McCartney for his crime of “Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time?”

4. Christmas songs can have such though provoking titles. My personal favorite is not “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas,” “A Chipmunk Christmas,” or even “I’m Getting Nuttin’ for Christmas.” No, the winner for me is “What Can You Get a Wookie for Christmas?” I’m not specifying what those provoked thoughts are in this case, and whether they be fit for public consumption, but I’ll just hint that George Lucas should be horsewhipped with a wet noodle.

3. Christmas creep, or retailers starting up the festivities earlier every year, will soon become so bad that the decorations will be left up year ‘round. Thus their objective, which (as Wikipedia tells us) is nothing short of world domination but PR spins as just “putting shoppers in the proper mood for buying gifts,” will be accomplished.

If the proper mood is a pathological hatred for: red and green swags, ringing bells, the maudlin holiday warbling of hung-over singers, and what seems like every available Alaskan plus all their out-of-town extended family at the shopping mall/on the road, then mission accomplished! Merry Christmas to you, too! And Happy Easter while I’m at it.

2. We still have a local station that plays only classical music, KLEF 98.1 FM. This translates into no pop Christmas tunes when the time comes (and it does come) to play Christmas music. Christmas songs in Latin from a boy’s choir? Ah, blessed relief. At least I think they are Christmas songs. My Latin, alas, is a little rusty and mostly confined to scientific terms. I suppose they could be lamenting a la George, the unworthy soul they gave their hearts to last Christmas, but at least I can’t understand them.

1. It will all be over in less than a month. December 26th is hereby proclaimed as “Auditory Sanity Reclamation Day.” Hurrah! Watch for people twitching in the void as Sir Mix-a-Lot plays softly in the background.

 

Did I miss anything in the Grump’s Guide to Christmas Music? Your favorite song? Worst ever song?

Santa: Ten Things an Alaskan Gardener Wants

Dear Santa,

Despite appearances, this only looks incredibly greedy:

1. Two weeks more of spring and autumn.  Three days of spring and 8.5 hours of autumn are just not enough.  To demonstrate my restraint in this request, I’m not even going to complain about our weeklong summer.

2. Moose that eat bears and bears that eat stray dogs, cats, and moose.  The fewer mammals pillaging my veggie patch, the better.  And one more fecal present from the local pets, unearthed whilst I am working the soil barehanded, and I won’t be responsible for my code red response.

3. A tomato/pepper/(fill in difficult-to-grow-in-Alaska vegetable here) that goes from seed to ripe fruit in oh, say, four weeks.  Is that so much to ask, Santa?

4. Tools that (much like the elves surprised the shoemaker in the morning with assembled footwear) sharpen themselves overnight.  A couple of out of work elves would do nicely.  They can live under my bed between the fire escape ladder, rifle case, and Tyrannosaurus-sized dust bunnies.  Cozy!

5. Some electrified fencing, in case number two isn’t workable.

6. Another blue tarp. That was a joke, Santa.  (I was going more for deep belly laugh, rather than outright shock, dearest Santa, so apologies if my humor was unfunny.)  Would it be too much to ask if you would, for the sake of beauty, neighborly relations (see picture), and peace on earth, please replace all those blue tarps with brown ones?

7. Catalogs for seed/plant companies that actually ship to our forsaken state.  We are part of mainland America.  This fact seems to have escaped the notice of some mail order companies.  I’ve received calls from nurseries telling me sadly, after I’ve placed an order, that “we don’t ship to Alaska.” 

“But your catalog says you ship to the U.S. and Canada.” 

“Except Alaska.”

Well, that grieves me, Santa.  Were we, or were we not, granted statehood in 1959?  And more importantly, I really need that rare grass/heather/salvia/what-have-you and it’s just not to be found here in old A.K.  I’m sure Hawaiian gardeners know how I feel.  They are nursery shipping outcasts as well. Aloha!

8. Plants that repel politicians and door-to-door salespeople.  I’d place a few (OK, twenty) on my front porch.  Don’t say red geraniums already do that, Santa, that’s just an urban garden legend.  And Santa, the plant has to let Girl Scouts selling cookies through.  I love the Thin Mints and the Samoas, which you must admit, dear sir, are heaven in a manufactured food item.  One final note: the plant should be absolutely toxic to men peddling magazines.

9. A perfume that, when spritzed into the breeze, carries itself to the nearest non-gardening neighbors, and infects them with a rabid desire to not only beautify their property with plantings, but to haul off the rusted-out snow machines and ancient truck on blocks.  I’m still mulling over ideas on a name for this miraculous scent.  How about we go halvesies on the patent, Santa? 

10. This one is a grab bag, Santa, you pick: a spare pair of felcos, pair of well-made wellies in (gulp) purple or green, lumber for a fence, or new garden gloves.

I have been a good gardener, you can check your list twice!  (Just stick to your naughty/nice list and avoid the police blotter and certain of my relatives and we’re golden.)

Sincerely yours,

Christine B.

The Last Frontier Gardener

What’s on your list?

Oh, Alaska! The Twelve Tarps of Christmas….

Never one to content myself with writing about a local quirk/pet peeve just once, I have canvassed the sprawling metropolis of Anchorage, Alaska and surrounding areas for the most glorious use of blue tarps, bound to induce feelings of civic pride within any resident of this 49th state.  Now knowing I couldn’t possibly do this on my own, I enlisted tarp scouts to track down this brightly hued but sometimes elusive polyethylene beast.  (First, do yourself a favor and brush up on my fascinating account of the magnetism blue tarps exert upon those carrying a Y chromosome.)

So look on, if you dare, but don’t blame me for various diseases of the eye and mind that may occur as a result….


There’s A Partridge wintering in there, And A Pear Tree, too, I just know it.  I’m half expecting an astronaut to walk out the door: “Houston, we have a problem….”  (There is a Houston, Alaska, and this ponderosa wasn’t ten miles down the road from that fair town.  I call that irony.)



 Two Turtle Doves.  Or maybe one RV and one woodpile?



Three Feet Over the Property Line.



Four Lolling Boats.  The nicest one gets a tarp?



Five Ashen Cinderblocks.  (My imagination seems to be running out of steam here, but they’re not golden now, are they?)



Six Tarps A-Laying?



Seven Swans A-Swimming, but not ‘till spring and the (rare and shy) brown tarp is removed.



Eight Frayed Neighborly Relations.



Maybe they have Nine Ladies Dancing in there.  A little privacy, please….



Ten (thousand) Boards A-Sleeping.



Eleven Pipes Crumbling.  OK, it’s a column.  Our city is in a bit of a budget crunch, so those much needed repairs are camouflaged Alaska style.  Fancy, isn’t it?



Twelve Summers Sitting (there.)

So you see, no matter how bad it is, any situation can be made even worse with the addition of a blue tarp.  I’d like to thank my unsuspecting neighbors here in Anchorage and a few choice residents of the Mat-Su valley for their inspiration (and unwitting participation) in my Tarp Roundup this year.  Keep buying those blue tarps and spreading that blue tarp love around!

Is there anything more noticeable than a blue tarp?  I just want to know why blue?