Day Five: David Crowder and Jewel Ring in the Day

I got back on track today.  In order to appease my son and keep him on my side, we kicked off the commute to school with the David Crowder Band's Oh For Joy, a great new Christmas release we'd picked up a few weeks ago.  My son seemingly endures the majority of the album, enjoying it, but eventually turning and asking if we can switch it to track eight, the DC*B's fun take on Trans-Siberian Orchestra's "Carol of the Bells/Christmas Eve (Sarajevo 12/24.)"  It's a great jam for sure and closes out a great album in a grand way.  (For those that care, there's definitely a review brewing on that bad boy!)

After dropping the kids off and finishing off the Crowder record, I moved on to a new acquisition to my collection, Jewel's Joy: A Holiday Collection.  I'd picked it up somewhere along the way earlier this year and, for whatever reason, hadn't listened to it yet.  It was a pleasant surprise, as Jewel, rather than opting for the Andy Williams vibe or in overworking these tracks, had the good sense to keep things classy, letting stark symphonic arrangements set the table for her multi-faceted vocal.  A good snag, that one.

I've gotta say that today's Christmas excursion was pleasantly enjoyable.  I found myself smiling on the way to work as DC*B's takes on "O Holy Night" and "Silent Night" reverberated throughout my car.  There's something calming about this music, and the season, that brings a legitimate peace to those looking for it.  Particularly in such a crazy world.  But you do have to be open to it.  Otherwise, you're toast.

The other thing that I'm finding is that my mind is jumping ahead toward the holidays.  I'm thinking of Christmas food (maybe a big family party?), I'm thinking of Christmas gifts (yes, I've mentally started my list and brainstorming thoughts for others), and I'm thinking of the season overall.  How can we better celebrate Advent this year?  How can we give more to others this year?  And yes, how can we step up the decorations this year too?  (I'm not all cerebral and holy...)

Does Christmas music do that to you?  Am I crazy doing this?

Day Four: No Progress and a Lot to Go...

So today was the first full-on fail day of the experiment so far.  Which, only four days in, doesn't bode well for the future. 

Why? Well, one could argue multiple things but, the bottom line was that imposing Christmas music upon those not engaged in such a social experiment as this is a rather dicey thing.  Just knowing my wife, I had a pretty good idea that, were I to suggest that we rock out to some "Jingle Bells" along the way to church or as we munched on our wholesome chicken nugget lunch with the kiddos, she'd simply give me the finger.  Or something akin to that.

So I kept things on the DL today.

I did take the opportunity tonight, as my wife and kids were away for a few hours, to finish listening to the Garth album.  I'm a slave to certain rules and, in giving myself this challenge, I've committed to listening to each album in it's totality and, since I didn't finish Garth up yesterday, I felt obliged.  So I did.

Meanwhile, in order to give some perspective, I tried to dig through my music collection and get some idea of exactly how many albums I have to listen to between now and Christmas day.

The total? 236 albums, give or take a few that may turn up in the next bit of time.  Plus, let's be honest, the collection will undeniably grow this year as well so we're staring down quite a monster.

Gearing up for some big holiday cheer tomorrow...

Day Two & Three: Off to a Slow Start...

So this experiment is offically off to a slow start.  After a big kick off with five albums being enjoyed (and no real mockery being experienced as of yet!), we hit the weekend and, with it, a bit of a standstill.  Some of that came from the sheer fact that, by it's very nature, there's not as much commute time (or at least time where one can listen to Christmas music undettered) and a whole lot more family time, ideally.  And there has been.

So, all that to say, the Christmas journey has been a very subtle one this weekend.  Friday saw me revisiting Antsy McClain in the morning, and despite the protestations of the young 'uns on the way to school.  McClain just nails such heartfelt honesty and humor that I felt compelled to listen that second time.  And frankly, I feel like that's going to be one of the issues with this whole experiment.  Many of these songs and these albums have that feel of old friends and family and, much like those holiday times when loved one's come together, you long for one more warm hour with them, one more moment to share over old times and share old stories.

Now, to be fair, I did follow that up with Christina Aguilera's My Kind of Christmas to finish up the afternoon in hopes of winning the kids back to my side.  Granted, they weren't terribly overwhelmed but let me have my way since it was the weekend.  Aguilera's album continues to be a fun listen as, much like Michael Bolton, she lays it all out there and plays up the over-the-top factor with the best of them, letting her runs and trills run rampant throughout the record but, for some reason, you just don't mind.

Saturday was a pretty light day for us and the only real listening time that availed itself was in a quick commute to pick up my son from roller derby practice.  So, keeping in stride, my daughter reached in and, after much deliberation and telling me that'd she'd help me pick one out later, we grabbed Garth Brooks & the Magic of Christmas and headed out.  Brooks' album is, in some ways, a bit of a disappointment.  From someone who made such a mark as a full-fledged entertainer, you'd expect a bit more connection with a holiday recording but this, while still enjoyable, falls a bit short.  It also led my son to voice the first discontent with this experiment as he questioned, "Why do we keep listening to Christmas music?  We shouldn't be hearing this for another two months!"

I have found myself questioning why I'm even taking this journey, of why put myself toward even documenting something that, for all intents and purposes, is somewhat foolish and pointless. Yet, for me, the reason is multiple. One, I hate the fact of owning things that I don't use. I don't want to just consume for the sake of comsumption. So I think it's a shame when things like great albums get passed over some years for the latest and greatest.

Secondly, I guess I'm just longing to engage the spirit of Christmas and get it going early. I want to remember the nostalgia, the heartbeat, and, yes, the true reason as I journey forth. Plus, I'm really morbidly curious to see if I can in fact burn myself out on this stuff. Only time will tell...

(On a bizarre side note, Chevy Chase's National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation was on today...Guess I'm not the only one thinking ahead...)

Day One: Bolton, Caterer, McClain, and More!

(Note: It's obvious that this is not being posted exactly one day after my last post...Let's just say, I have children and leave it at that...)

Okay, so day one of the Christmas music experiment and I arise rested (right!  Like I said, I have kids...) and ready for the day.  I've gotta admit, as geeky as it sounds, and it is geeky, I'm pretty excited about giving myself permission to rock the holiday tunes so early in the year.  So I reach into my grab bag of music, digging out a handful of albums and head off to start the day.

So the morning commute begins with none other than that bastion of blue-eyed soul, Michael Bolton, and his first holiday offering, This Is the Time: The Christmas Album.  I know, I know, you either hate the guy or you celebrate his entire catalog.  I've got a little lame in me so I guess I skew toward the catalog end although, let's be honest, we can't quite celebrate the whole deal.  This album, however, is well worth the listen.  It's wonderfully out there, taking on the sacred and the secular with plenty of gusto, finding Bolton dueting with folks as diverse as Pavarotti and Wynonna, and is pleasantly over the top.  A good way to start the day.

I will confess that, as it is at that time of year in our sunny Florida where the weather has made that wondefully pleasant change, dropping into the low 60's and into the 70's, I was rocking Mr. Bolton on my commute with the windows and sunroof down and, at times, I did feel a little conspicuous.  I was at a traffic light as a few high school students walked by, my car stereo blaring out "Joy to the World," and yeah, I just kept my eyes facing forward.

But the day went on and I didn't get to listen to my next album until I arrived at my second job at Living Word.  This is a job that affords me primo listening time as it's me, the CD player, a computer, and tons of boxes filled with products to be received.  And if they're not being received, they're being sent back.  So it's pretty ideal.

Josh Caterer's The Heart of Christmas EP was up next, an album that I'm reviewing for SSVMag.com (review forthcoming) and it was a nice, indie segue into the evening.  Jason Crabb's Because It's Christmas followed hard after that, the southern gospel magnet invoking some nice R&B and gospel elements into an album that starts slow but ends pretty strong.  Another new album followed in after that, with TobyMac's Christmas in Diverse City taking center stage.  It's another one that's got a review coming here so I'll say little about it.

Last but not least came the shining gem of the day with an album that I'd not heard in some time.  Antsy McClain and the Trailer Park Troubadours' Merry Christmas From the Trailer Park.  I know, it sounds like some sort of cheesy Weird Al sort of thing but, rather, it's a really funny and surprisingly poignant look at what, for me, is a real person's holiday as opposed to those personified on TV and in movies.  This is middle America at it's best, with McClain weaving humor and hymns together effectively and melting your heart in the process.  Let's be honest, this is a guy whose catalog is a little more worthy of celebrating.  (For some extra fun listening, give Trailercana a shot.)

So that concluded day one.  And I've got to say, the only weird thing is that I'm thinking Christmassy now, if that makes sense.  I'm ready for some gingerbread or eggnog or something...We'll see what day two brings about...

Christmas in October?: A Personal Challenge (and Experiment)

I've got a confession.

I love Christmas.

I love all the trappings, the cheesy lights, the giant blow up Santa's and his reindeer on the lawn. Everything. I love the outdated Christmas specials, the Peanuts music, and the cheery sight of red and green everywhere you look. And yes, I do secretly dream of amassing a Cosby-sized collection of the most
God-awful Christmas sweaters imaginable.

And, tying it all together, I love Christmas music. A lot.

In fact, I love it so much that, well, I've been dipping into the stash just a hair before the season. Yes, I know the leaves haven't even turned yet, that ghouls and goblins still deserve their fair opportunity to roam prior to the pilgrims' landing but I just haven't been able to help myself. A little Elvis here, a bit of Bing here; nobody will get hurt, right?

(And, just for the record, no one's been hurt, save for my wife's pride in her husband, perhaps.)

Anyway, as I've begun this bit by bit step into the holidays way before the actual holidays, I found myself taking account of all the Christmas music I actually have. I have a bunch. Some (my wife again), might say, too much. But I disagree wholeheartedly.

See, Christmas music, despite the obvious religious implications, which I do draw strength from, also carries a wicked sense of nostalgia and peace for me. Whether or not its simply remembering those chilly mornings sliding open the door to our living room, seeing those glittering lights, the presents spilling out from underneath the tree, accompanied by those classic songs by John Lennon, Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, and more, or just sheer goofiness, this music brings me to a simpler place. Yes, some of it is repetitive as there is a very set selection of songs folks seem to choose to interpret. But, even within that, there is a sense of warmth and community.

I could go on and on but, let's be honest, you really don't want to hear about that right now, do you? I didn't think so.

Well, here's what's happened. I've decided that yes, I do have a lot of Christmas music. I've also decided that I'm okay with that. But I've decided to give myself the challenge, a bit of a mental and social experiment we'll say, to listen to each and every holiday-themed album that I own, in it's entirety, by the end of Christmas this year. For some, that would be an easy task. But this kid boasts a collection that exceeds 200-plus records in this genre. So I gotta get cooking.

Along the way, I'll be posting what albums I've jingle belled to that day, maybe a review or two as well, alongside revamping this nifty little blog that I've called home, albeit way too infrequently, for a long, long time. I invite you to stop by, read a little, chat a little, and join in the Christmas cheer with me.

Now I gotta get started; only 80 days till Christmas!

Sacred Spaces, or, You Can't Go Home Again

I've spent the past several days helping my parents pack the home they've lived in for over 34 years so they can move to Tennessee. It's been an interesting experience to say the least, watching that many years of accumulation come forth, be remembered, and then judged worthy or unworthy. Odds and ends, relics of days gone by, and things remembered have all surfaced, many with varying sheens of dust and memory, being laid aside for travel or discarded just as easily.

And of course, the process has been more than just that. My parents are moving to a place that is nowhere near where we live. Save for a brief time that I lived in Jacksonville, it's gonna be the biggest distance they've ever been away, something I'm sure I've taken for granted for the past years. And I know it's their dream and that we'll keep in touch, etc, but it's still kind of weird and is sort of tough, particularly where I've been able to be of some help to them while they've been here where, when they're up there, I certainly can't be.

But this week, something else hit me that I wasn't necessarily prepared for. As I sat in the backyard around a small bonfire burning up some last woody odds and ends for my Dad, I was struck with how much I was going to miss that land as well. Now, missing my parents will be paramount but, it's odd how much that acre and a bit more really does resonate within my being, even now. That's land that I worked on, played on, bled on, cried on. It's the land where I learned to throw a football, to ride a bike, to throw a castnet, and to shoot a BB gun. It's the place where GI Joe overtook a horde of evil Jedi forces to save the day and where friends and I spent every waking afternoon and weekend in the hot sun honing our volleyball skills. It's the place of memories, of peace, and of home. And it's sacred to me.

Throughout the Bible I've always read about how God would do something for the people of Israel and He would instruct them to build an altar of rembrance to Him there, something to set that place aside as a holy place, a place to be remembered that He was there. For a long time, I never really understood that. I mean, I got the idea, sure, but the full meaning I didn't, at least not until recently. And now, as I stand in the place of watching this hallowed piece of land pass from our family to another's, I understand. I understand why people would want to consecrate a piece of land remembering the good times and the bad, and ultimately the deliverance of the Savior. Now I get it.

The painful part is that, as the old saying goes, "You can't go home again." And I can't. Friday Mom and Dad close on the house and are on their way to Tennessee. The bags are packed, the cars are loaded up, and they'll be gone and the land will no longer belong to our family. But, all the same, the memories will still be ours to cherish, the lessons learned still with us, and the love and joy shared something to be passed on to our new family and friends in new locales. Thus, I suppose another old saying shall reign, "Home is where the heart is." Amen.

Confronting Community

I've been finding myself struggling against the idea of community as of late and I don't know why. I'm sure part of it stems from past experiences, areas where I've felt hurt and exposed and those are surely understandable. The other side, I'm sure, stems from those other areas where I still struggle with petty insecurities and personal failures too. Again, understandable. Yet, are they understandable? Is it fair?

It's not as though I'm shunning the idea of community; rather, I long for it. Our recent experiences in our home alone remind me of how much I love and care being a part of something that's bigger than ourselves as we've had friends and family galore over for get togethers, reunions, and celebrations. Being a part of those experiences has been wonderful, seamless, and encouraging.

But the area where I'm finding myself struggling yet again is in the area of church. And it's an ironic struggle because I really like the church that we've found. It's a wonderful, open, encouraging, intelligent, and forward-thinking and moving group of people that really have a heart for God and others. But still I struggle. And why? I'm just not sure. I'm not sure if I'm petrified that my gifts have been tainted by missuse or by complacency or if I'm just simply scared of being hurt again. I just don't know...

Yet, I know that this is a hurdle that I've got to overcome. For my family, for my kids, for my Lord. I've got to overcome this.

I wish I could return to the ways of childhood, when community came so simply. I was reminded of how simply this past couple of weeks as my son stayed with my parents during the days that we had to work during his Christmas break. Some other kids next door to my folks were off and, each and every day, those kids, as though drawn together by some internal magnet, found Tyler and the group spent those days playing until I arrived and even after. And what did they have in common? They were kids out of school, essentially. That's it. And they became the best of friends for those days, vanquishing the forces of darkness with sticks and play swords, defeating the hordes of evil with Nerf guns and pretend grenades.

And yet I struggle with fully fusing myself into community as part of the body of Christ, with whom I have that much more in common. And why? I'm not sure...