Patrick Wayne Wanders the British Columbian Wilderness in The Bears and I

My heart is in the mountains today, as it has been every October 12th since Colorado icon John Denver, my favorite singer-songwriter, died in a plane crash on this day in 1997. It was with this day in mind that I recently watched The Bears and I, the 1974 Disney movie for which Denver furnished the theme song. I’d never seen it before, but I knew the natural setting would ease the longing for the great outdoors that becomes so acute this time of year.

The Bears and I, directed by Bernard McEveety, is based on the book Robert Franklin Leslie wrote about his experience living in the British Columbian wilderness and helping to raise a trio of orphaned bear cubs. Patrick Wayne, son of western legend John Wayne, plays Bob, our narrator and, for significant stretches of time, the only human character on the screen. He has a robust charm about him, coming across as self-sufficient and kind-hearted. More often than not, the inconveniences that come with this solitary lifestyle amuse rather than irritate him.

However, his good nature turns to ire in the face of cruelty, which seems to be a specialty of local ruffian Sam Eagle Speaker (Val DeVargas). He is the one who orphaned the cubs he takes in, and he continues to antagonize him throughout the movie. Bob does enjoy a good relationship with level-headed store owner Oliver Red Fern (Michael Ansara), though, and he yearns to get closer to Chief Peter A-Tas-Ka-Nay (Chief Dan George), whose son served with him in Vietnam before being killed in combat. The chief is hospitable but reserved in extending his welcome, and Bob’s adoption of the bears unsettles him; the bear is his tribe’s most sacred animal, and although he can see that Bob’s intentions are good, he disapproves of the idea of these majestic animals being tamed.

The movie basically has two primary storylines. The first is Bob’s decision to take the cubs under his wing and train them in the ways of ursine behavior so that they can survive on their own in adulthood. The second involves the fact that the government plans to make this area a national park and force Chief A-Tas-Ka-Nay and his people to move elsewhere. The resolutions to both storylines come at the same time, and while the first is believably bittersweet, the second seems a bit glossed over. Still, the movie seems to strike a good balance, showing the native population in a respectful light without entirely vilifying those behind the park project. At least they are looking to preserve the wilderness instead of paving it over, and in that respect, there’s common ground upon which to build.

Wayne makes a likable lead, though his narration is a bit dry at times. Still, the strongest performances in the movie are from him and George, who carries himself with melancholy dignity as the bereaved father afraid of losing his ancestral home. More potent than either of them, however, is the land itself, captured by cinematographer Ted D. Landon. The scenery is breathtakingly gorgeous, and in addition to the bears, we see elk, wildcats, wolverines and numerous other animals. Perhaps more than anything else, this movie offers an ideal opportunity to immerse yourself in a pristine mountain landscape and ponder whether you would be up to the challenge of embracing a lifestyle suited to the likes of Rubeus Hagrid, the burly Hogswarts groundskeeper who is my favorite character in the Harry Potter series. I have a cousin who’s managed it; I suspect I’m not that rugged, but every once in a while, it’s nice to imagine…

John Denver makes it all the more enticing with Sweet Surrender, the song of self-discovery that opens the movie and is incorporated into Buddy Baker’s score. Focusing on a theme that runs through much of Denver’s music, it expresses a desire for deeper self-awareness and a sense of malaise with the day-to-day rat race. This is a man who just wants to get away and carve out a life for himself in one of the wilder places of the world. The rambling, lackadaisical pace fits the tone of most of the scenes with the bears. As a Vietnam veteran, he’s seen a lot of ugliness; now he just wants a new start. “Lost and alone on some forgotten highway traveled by many, remembered by few, lookin’ for somethin’ that I can believe in, lookin’ for somethin’ that I’d like to do with my life. There’s nothin’ behind me and nothin’ that ties me to somethin’ that might’ve been true yesterday. Tomorrow is open; right now it seems to be more than enough just to be here today…”

The Bears and I isn’t without its flaws; even at an hour and a half, it sometimes seems as though it could have used some tighter editing. The pace is mostly plodding, and I’m not sure that the national park storyline works quite as well as the bear one does. Still, it’s a stirring story with an irresistible setting. I don’t know how it took me so long to see this movie, but it was the perfect way for me to settle my mind on the great outdoors during what always turns out to be a time of reflection. If you’ve ever heard the mountains calling your name, you should give this movie a try, too.

Scotty McCreery Makes a Strong Debut With Clear As Day

I have watched nearly episode of American Idol’s ten seasons and watched many contestants bloom throughout the competition, but only three captured my attention whole-heartedly, rising far above the others to become my primary reason for watching week after week. Those were season two’s almost-winner Clay Aiken, season seven’s sunny 70s-ish singer-songwriter Brooke White and this year’s winner, Scotty McCreery.

Scotty surprised me a bit because, while country music is always well represented on the show, I tend not to gravitate toward those singers. However, the startlingly deep voice of this young man, 17 when he won the competition, got my attention. He sounds like he was born to sing country, and good old-fashioned throwback country, the kind I prefer. While his voice and youth put him on my radar, it was Hollywood Week that turned me into a die-hard fan.

After he was finally accepted into a group – an exhausting ordeal that the show made even more complicated than usual this year – its leader decided to evict one of its previous members at the last minute, almost leaving him without a group at all. Tormented over not having spoken up in his defense, Scotty publicly apologized, demonstrating a depth of integrity that he carried forward with him over the remaining weeks. The combination of his firm principles and distinctive sound made me latch onto him and root for his success, and I knew that I’d be buying his debut album. Happily, Clear As Day is a perfect vehicle for his talent.

Out of Summertime - The album kicks off with this musically upbeat but lyrically downcast song by Tim Nichols and Jonathan Singleton. With the accompaniment of banjo and driving percussion, Scotty recounts a too-familiar tale of summer love between two people who will be separated in the fall. Their youth makes the 300 miles about to separate them even more painful, though they’re about to be seniors in high school; if they’ve developed such a deep relationship by this point, I would think they could keep it up long-distance for a year and then head for the same college… Still, it’s a nice song loaded with nostalgic summery images. “Oh, she coulda been mine, but we ran out of summertime.”

I Love You This Big - This earnest tune by Ester Dean, Brett James, Jay Smith and Ronnie Jackson reminds me of Randy Travis’s My Love Is Deeper. The longest song on the album, its speaker is a simple guy with a lot of love who isn’t quite sure how to express it. The track, heavy on the whining electric guitar, sounds even more thoroughly country-ish than the first, especially with Scotty putting deliberate emphasis on his drawl. “I love you to the moon and back. I love you all the time. Deeper than the ocean and higher than the pines.”

Clear as Day - This title track by Casey Beathard, Phil O'Donnell and Adam Wheeler offers a series of “clear as day” memories involving the girl to whom the song is addressed. The fiddle and mandolin provide a poignant undercurrent that seems at odds with the upbeat feel of the song until the final verse, when it abruptly switches gears, casting the preceding verses in a new light. “You hold to what you love; some things never fade, and that night’s still clear as day.”

The Trouble with Girls - This reflective song by Phillip White and Chris Tompkins makes me smile, particularly in the first verse, because it reminds me of Talkin’ to the Wrong Man, Michael Martin Murphey’s wonderful duet with his son. I prefer that song about a young fella and his dad bonding over their confusion over women to this one, which is more generic and not as funny. Still, I like this slightly melancholy number with its piano backing and its ruminative tone. “The trouble with girls is they’re a mystery. Somethin’ about ‘em puzzles me. Spent my whole life tryin’ to figure out just what them girls are all about.”

Water Tower Town - Written by Cole Swindell, Tammi Kidd and Lynn Hutton, this shortest track is an ode to the delights of small-town living. It’s basically just a list of characteristics that many tiny country towns have in common, and the banjo and bits of front porch-style percussion accentuate the theme. “Nobody eats till you say ‘amen’ and everybody knows your mom and them. You can see who loves who for miles around in a Water Tower Town.”

Walk In The Country This song by Keith Urban and Vernon Rust has a bit of a hard edge to it. Those guitars sound really electric this time around, and Scotty starts off almost hollering, though his voice gets more melodic as the song goes along, a reflection of the good that being out in the country does him. His voice takes some interesting turns here, and the song in general has a different sound to it than most on the album. Thematically reminds me of John Denver’s I Guess He’d Rather Be in Colorado. Also, assuming the allusion is intentional, cool points for referencing one of my favorite books. “Come on, let’s point our toes where the red fern grows. Take a little walk in the country with me.”

Better Than That - This uptempo number by Chris DeStefano, Jess Kates and Craig Wiseman covers the same basic territory as I Love You This Big. I think I actually like it better because the images are more creative: fishing in the dark, driving a Chevy for the first time, “the way it felt to sing along to some words that were scribbled on my soul.” Another song that gives me a strong Randy Travis vibe. I also like the chorus of voices that chimes in on the main line. A very sweet and down-to-earth song. “One day, years from now, when I’m old and gray, I’m gonna smile about how life has been so good, but your love is better, better, better than that…”

Write My Number On Your Hand - This breezy song by Thomas Rhett, Jeremy Stover and Jamie Paulin feels totally laid-back and relaxed. Like Out of Summertime, it deals with a summer romance that geography threatens to make short-term, but these two seem determined to put in the effort to make it last. The ukulele adds a very distinctive touch to this song, and the little “yeehaw” Scotty lets loose at the end is a fitting capper to this easy-going story-song. “So we shared a Coca-Cola sittin’ on a log, and I was wantin’ to kiss her like an old bullfrog. ‘Did you say you’re only here for a couple of days? Well, all right, we ain’t got much time to waste…’”

Dirty Dishes - This gentle reflection by Neil Thrasher, Michael Dulaney and Tony Martin may be my favorite track on the album. A simple song of gratitude backed by acoustic guitar and fiddle, it paints a picture of a warm home stuffed with love and chaos in equal measure, reminding me of the wonderful Weasleys in the Harry Potter series. The nicely harmonized chorus consists of the tired but contented mother’s table grace and would make an excellent song for Thanksgiving. “I wanna thank you, Lord, for noisy children and slammin’ doors and clothes scattered all over the floor…”

You Make That Look Good - Honky-tonk piano and electric guitar have prominence on this upbeat song by Rhett Akins and Lee Thomas Miller. This one makes me think of Neil Diamond’s Forever in Blue Jeans; simple pleasures are really all this guy needs. More to the point, though, the presence of the woman he loves makes everything seem better than it already is. Just as sweet as Better Than That. “It’s a little banged up, a little too much rust, but when you’re sittin’ beside me in my old truck, you make that look good, honey, better than it should. Might as well say Cadillac there on the hood.”

Back On the Ground - This song by Neil Thrasher, Beathard and Tony Martin makes a perfect complement to Dirty Dishes, this time showing an adult son coming to more deeply appreciate his mother after time away. Acoustic guitar and piano help give the verses a mellow feel, while the chorus take on a slightly rockier, more plaintive sound as he recalls his rebellious youth. A touching tribute to the mother-son bond. “Ain’t it funny how it all comes back around? I remember when I couldn’t wait to get out of her hair and ditch this town. I was restless, time to move on, now it’s any reason to go back home…”

The Old King James - The album concludes with this quiet ballad by White and Mark Nesler. Throughout the American Idol competition, Scotty, a devout Baptist, wore his faith on his sleeve, from the cross necklace always around his neck to his choice of several songs with a Gospel flavor. Hence, this tale of a family Bible passed down from the speaker’s grandpa, who received it as a child and toted it to war with him, to his mother, who turned to it in times of crisis, and finally to him feels like a very fitting conclusion. Some interesting instrumentation here, particularly the accordion, and I love the way Scotty speaks a few particular words for emphasis as he spins this heartfelt tale about one book that binds a family together. “But when life would take a sharp turn every now and then and she would just start missin’ him, I’d see her pick it up, and now the cover’s torn and the leather’s worn on that old King James.”

Scotty McCreery has a powerful instrument and, despite his young age, he possesses that all-important storyteller quality that marks the greats of the country balladeer tradition. To me, it’s Clear As Day that he is headed for a great career.

Sing Like a Seafarer on Talk Like a Pirate Day

Ahoy, matey! Today be International Talk Like a Pirate Day, created in 1995 and popularized in 2002 by humorist Dave Barry. I’ve found this event amusing since I first became acquainted with it, though I haven’t quite mastered the gift of pirate gab myself. Hence, I won’t be writing a review in Piratese, but in honor of this rather ridiculous holiday, I present my September 19th list of 19 seafaring songs. While only a quarter of them involve actual pirates and there’s a fairly heavy concentration of songs from the Irish Rovers and Celtic Thunder, I hope it goes down as sweet as a goblet o’ grog.

A Professional Pirate - In this song from Muppet Treasure Island, Tim Curry leads a most unsavory crew in a litany of reasons why the pirate lifestyle is so satisfactory. A gregarious song of welcome rather reminiscent of Oliver’s Consider Yourself, it offers the wily Long John Silver a chance to persuade innocent young Jim Hawkins that piracy isn’t so terrible after all. “It’s how you look at buccaneers that makes them bad or good, and I see us as members of a noble brotherhood!”

Blow the Man Down - When it comes to traditional sea shanties, few are more famous than this one. I’ve heard it any number of times at Celtic fests and other singalong occasions, but when I think of it nowadays, what pops into my mind first is the absurd but endearing sight of brainy Sheldon Cooper and his bubbly neighbor Penny using the song to help them mass-produce hair clips on The Big Bang Theory. “I’ll sing ye a song, a good song of the sea, with a way, hey, blow the man down. I trust that you’ll join in the chorus with me. Give me some time to blow the man down!”

Calypso - John Denver wrote this song in the immediate aftermath of his ride on the Calypso, the ship belonging to ocean explorer Jacques Cousteau. It’s easy to tell how inspired he was; it may be just about the most viscerally joyful song in his catalog, and given how happy so much of his music is, that’s really saying something. An exuberant tribute to Cousteau and to aquatic life. “Like the dolphin who guides you, you bring us beside you to light up the darkness and show us the way. Although we are strangers in your silent world, to live on the land we must learn from the sea to be true as the tide, free as a wind swell, joyful and loving in letting it be.”

Candle on the Water - Definitely not a sea shanty, but so rich in nautical imagery that I had to include it, especially since it is one of my very favorite Disney love songs. Helen Reddy’s Nora, a lighthouse keeper, continues to tend to her duties, hoping that one day the ship her beacon saves will be that of her fiancé Paul, who vanished at sea the year before. The lighthouse becomes a powerful metaphor for the flame in her heart that she refuses to extinguish. “A cold and friendless tide has found you. Don’t let the stormy darkness pull you down. I’ll paint a ray of hope around you, circling in the air, lighted by a prayer.”

Captain Hook - My favorite version of Peter Pan is the televised stage musical starring Mary Martin, with the outstanding Cyril Ritchard as the far more hilarious than menacing Captain Hook. A preening peacock of a man, he revels in the tribute he writes to himself, with his pirate crew chiming in on the chorus. “Who’s the swiniest swine in the world? (Captain Hook! Captain Hook!) Who’s the dirtiest dog in this wonderful world? (Captain Hook! Captain Hook!) Captain of villainy, murder and loot, eager to kill any who says that his hook isn’t cute. (It’s cute!)”

Farewell to Nova Scotia - This traditional Canadian dirge most likely dates back about a century, and I’ve heard several renditions, my favorite of which is the wistful, woodwind-soaked one by the Irish Rovers. Songs of emigration are common to Celtic music; this one stands out to me for this list because of the nautical focus of the chorus. “Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast. Let your mountains dark and dreary be. When I am far away, on the briny ocean tossed, will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?”

Gilligan’s Island Theme Song - Possibly the most maddeningly catchy theme song in television history. Once this song gets lodged in your head, you’re stuck with the bouncy ballad for life. These seven stranded castaways have such a cushy life that it doesn’t really matter that Gilligan manages to thwart their rescue week after week. Since the millionaire Howells seem to have packed for a three-year tour and there’s nothing that the Professor can’t build out of bamboo or coconuts, they’re set for life. Pretty lucky shipwreck! (P. S. You’re welcome.) “The mate was a mighty sailin’ man, the skipper brave and sure. Five passengers set sail that day for a three-hour tour (a three-hour tour).”

Greenland Whale Fisheries - Peter Paul and Mary sing a stirring version of this 300-year-old ballad detailing a whaling expedition gone awry. I’d never heard it before I got their boxed set five years ago, but it’s been covered by many, including The Weavers, whose rendition is perhaps the most famous. The deceptively upbeat banjo is countered by the melancholy flute in this tragic tale. “Oh, Greenland is a dreadful place. It’s a land that’s never green, where there’s ice and snow and the whale-fishes blow and daylight’s seldom seen, brave boys, and daylight’s seldom seen.”

Heartland - One of Celtic Thunder’s two signature songs, this Phil Coulter chant is a prayer for deliverance uttered by sailors in rough weather. In this way, it’s quite similar to the ballad Home From the Sea, included on a later Celtic Thunder album, but the bouncy folksiness of that song, along with the rescue at the hands of the coast guard, gives it a very different tone than this one, a reverent plea borne of desperation and deep faith. It’s a most appropriate song for the group to open with, since the Gaelic chorus, which translates to “Lord, have mercy, Christ, have mercy,” feels so Celtic and the stormy situation, brought to life with deep percussion, certainly takes care of the thunder. “When the winds are howling, vigil keep. Shelter us and save us from the deep!”

Into the West - Extensively hinted at earlier in the score, particularly the exquisite The Grey Havens, this is the end-credits anthem of The Return of the King. Drawing inspiration from Frodo’s vision of the West in the novel and the Tennyson-esque poem Bilbo’s Last Song, which imagines Bilbo’s poetic response to his departure from Middle-earth, this epic Annie Lennox song is slow and ethereal. While it deals specifically with the Westward journey that the heroic Bagginses undertake after their labors have ended, the song also uses nautical imagery to speak metaphorically and optimistically of death. “What can you see on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea, a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home.”

Jack Sparrow - I distinctly remember the night six years ago when I was watching Saturday Night Live and saw my first Digital Short. I was blown away by Lazy Sunday, which was just so different and so refreshingly funny. In the video, a couple of geeky guys use hardcore rap to relate their exploits leading up to their viewing of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It’s hilarious and, aside from one extraneous word that seems to have been included mostly so it could be censored, perfectly clean. Andy Samberg and his Lonely Island cronies quickly got more risqué with their videos and songs on the show and off, so when this video went viral on Facebook, I was torn between keen interest and wariness. Interest won out; both were warranted. The main trio’s rapped verses are filthy, both in terms of language and activities described, but Michael Bolton’s random melodic outbursts that turn the chorus into a tribute to Captain Jack Sparrow of Pirates of the Caribeean make the wincing worth it. The most entertaining marriage of an epic score and absurd heights of fandom since last year’s I’ll Never Be LOST Again, it proved the perfect way to generate excitement for the fourth movie. “This is the tale of Captain Jack Sparrow, pirate so brave on the Seven Seas. A mystical quest to the isle of Tortuga. Raven locks sway in the ocean breeze.”

Safe in the Harbour - I just discovered this gentle Eric Bogle ballad thanks to George Donaldson’s debut solo album, The White Rose. Written in tribute to the late Canadian singer-songwriter Stan Rogers, it speaks of sailing as being akin to dreaming before using the chorus to craft a metaphor similar to the one used in Into the West. Simply gorgeous. “To every sailor comes time to drop anchor, haul in the sails and make the lines fast. You deep water dreamer, your journey is over. You’re safe in the harbour at last.”

The Irish Rover - This traditional tune from which the Irish Rovers take their name is a calamitous ballad that really should be a most mournful lament. Instead, however, the whole thing feels like a party, particularly the silly section detailing all of the cargo that the Irish Rover has in its hold. I’ve heard this song oodles of times, but nobody whoops it up like the Irish Rovers, who keep listeners on their toes by altering the lyrics slightly just about every time they record it. Never has a shipwreck been so much fun. “We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out and the ship lost its way in a fog, and the whale of a crew was reduced down to two: ‘twas meself and the captain’s old dog. Then the ship struck a rock – oh, Lord, what a shock! We nearly tumbled over. Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned. I’m the last of The Irish Rover!”

The Mariner’s Revenge Song - This was the song that introduced me to The Decemberists, a truly unusual alt-folkie group fronted by Colin Meloy, who mostly writes songs that sound as though they’ve been floating around for a couple of centuries. That’s certainly true of this nine-minute-long whale of a song accompanied by accordion and tambourine and filled with words like “roustabout” and “consumptive.” After the narrator’s “poor sweet mother” charges her young son with the task of violently dispatching the ne’er-do-well who had his way with her, infected her with some foul disease and abandoned her, even Inigo Montoya would be hard-pressed to compete with his blood-thirsty drive for vengeance. Quite a nasty narrative, but oh so grandiose. “We are two mariners, our ships' sole survivors in this belly of a whale. Its ribs are ceiling beams. Its guts are carpeting. I guess we have some time to kill…”

The Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything - Since its first episode, one of the trademark elements of the VeggieTales line of computer-animated Christian videos has been Silly Songs With Larry. This particular Silly Song is doubly goofy because it makes its debut in a video that consists of nothing but previous Silly Songs. These lackadaisical pirates would go on to star in two full-screen flops that almost toppled the company, so I guess you might say they accidentally pillaged their own production. Nonetheless, I found the films fairly fun and the concept a hoot as gruff Pa Grape, luxuriating Mr. Lunt and oblivious Larry the Cucumber brag about all the piratey – and, in Larry’s case, just plain weird – things they’ve never actually done. “And I never hoist the mainstay, and I never swab the poop deck, and I never veer to starboard ‘cause I never sail at all. And I’ve never walked the gangplank, and I’ve never owned a parrot, and I’ve never been to Boston in the fall.”

The Voyage - This Johnny Duhan song, famously covered by Christy Moore, is another that I heard first from Celtic Thunder’s George Donaldson. In this tender love song, the speaker likens marriage to a nautical journey, instantly reminding me of LOST’s Odyssean lovers Desmond and Penny, who spend so much of their time navigating the ocean in their quest to be together. While the central metaphor comes close to being mawkish at times, it never crosses the line, at least when sung by such master balladeers as I’ve heard performing it. “I am a sailor; you’re my first mate. We signed on together; we coupled our fate. We hauled up our anchor, determined not to fail. For the heart’s treasure, together we set sail.”

The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald - Up until the Decemberists came along, I found it hard to imagine a seafaring ballad that could eclipse this six-and-a-half-minute-long behemoth. Even in light of that song, Gordon Lightfoot’s electrified ode to the doomed titular ship remains impressive. Inspired by a straightforward newspaper account of the infamous shipwreck that occurred November 10, 1975, it also has the distinction of being the only non-local song I can think of to mention Lake Erie. I saw this song performed from the second row at a concert in 2000, and believe me, it really felt like we were out there on that roiling ocean. I’ll always think of this as the ultimate shipwreck song. “In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed in the Maritime Sailors’ Cathedral. The church bell chimed till it rang 29 times for each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.”

Yellow Submarine - No, it’s not a boat per se, but how could I not include this cheerful ocean vessel at the heart of one of the Beatles’ peppiest, most recognizable tunes? It sure sounds like a wonderful way to see the aquatic world. “In the town where I was born there lived a man who sailed to sea, and he told us of his life in the land of submarines. So we sailed into the sun till we found the sea of green, and we lived beneath the waves in our yellow submarine.”

Yo Ho (A Pirate’s Life for Me) - I love that my alphabetization of this list landed me with pirate songs on either end. This song, very much along the same lines as A Professional Pirate, is a celebration of this lawless lifestyle and has served as the official theme song to the Pirates of the Caribbean attractions for upwards of four decades. A very singable shanty that delights in devilish deeds and a perfect way to wrap up this Talk Like a Pirate Day Playlist. “We’re beggars and blighters and ne’er-do-well cads. Drink up, me hearties, yo ho! Aye, but we’re loved by our mommies and dads. Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!”

It took me a while to come up with enough songs for this list, but once they started pouring in, I had a hard time restricting myself to just 19 and had to leave out several great ones, from the Irish Rovers’ mandolin-drenched lament My Boy Willie to the hearty barrel-riding number Rolling Down the Hole from the Rankin-Bass version of The Hobbit. If any of you have favorite nautical songs I haven’t mentioned here, I welcome recommendations. Meanwhile, if you enjoy this type of music as much as I do, I hope I’ve helped you find an appropriate musical backdrop for this most auspicious occasion. I best be shovin’ off fer now, so fair winds to ye, matey, until this time next year!

Let John Denver Fill Up Your Senses With the Annie's Song Ornament

Over the years, I’ve embraced thousands of songs by various artists, but I think no single musician has had a more powerful impact upon me, both through his music and his life, than John Denver. Granted, the Western singer-songwriter didn’t always live up to the squeaky-clean image he presented to the world, and his intense dedication to music and humanitarianism ultimately came at a cost to his family life. Nonetheless, his gentle ideals and homespun melodies have permeated my consciousness for as long as I can remember.

I was delighted, then, when my brother pointed out the John Denver Annie’s Song ornament to me when we were browsing our local Carlton Cards back in 2004. Because the store was in the last stages of clearing house before closing, I bought the ornament, third in a series honoring country singers, for a song, which is appropriate given its theme.

John rests on a rocky base of about three square inches, with the back portion creeping up to form a boulder on which he can comfortably rest. One of his brown cowboy boots is firmly planted in the moss that covers the rocks up to the edge of a tranquil mountain stream. The scene looks so picturesque that I would love to step into it. He sits in a casual pose, his other boot resting on a small rock so that it is slightly elevated. He’s in definite cowboy mode here in his blue jeans and his cream-colored shirt with the snazzy brown Western design around the collar. While he’s not wearing a cowboy hat, I think that’s mostly because his head makes a sturdier perch for the loop for those who want to suspend it from an evergreen branch.

John’s hair is brown and fairly short, and wire-rimmed glasses cover his eyes. On his face is a wide smile. He has a brown guitar strap slung over his shoulder, and he holds a shiny silver guitar that he is meant to be in the midst of playing. His right hand strums from above, while his left hand, on which his wedding ring is clearly visible, reaches up from below to handle the chord changes. It’s a very good likeness that really captures what Denver was all about. As a nice bonus, the light gray base has his distinctive signature scrawled across the front in black. Of course, this ornament came out several years after he died, so he didn’t actually put his stamp on it, but I’m sure he would have approved of this keepsake.

One of the best aspects of the ornament is the music. In the back you have a tiny knob that you press in to hear the clip, and just above that is a little speaker. What you’ll hear, naturally, is a snippet of Annie’s Song, and a pretty generous one at that. In fact, you get the whole first verse, complete with strummed guitar accompaniment. One of his earliest and most popular songs, it was written for his wife and was one of those gifts that come in a single flash of inspiration. A celebration of simple but profound joys like the beauty of nature and the love of a kindred spirit, the song has been a centerpiece at countless weddings in past three and a half decades, and many consider it to be him at his most romantic.

You fill up my senses / Like a night in a forest, / Like the mountains in springtime, / Like a walk in the rain, / Like a storm in the desert, / Like a sleepy blue ocean. / You fill up my senses; / Come fill me again.

It’s sad to listen to this song and realize that the marriage it celebrates didn’t last, but it doesn’t diminish the sense of euphoria encapsulated in its few short lines. While it can go on the tree, the ornament, at over five inches in height, is a bit on the large side for hanging. However, its flat, sturdy base makes it ideal for placement on a surface such as a desk or a side table. I keep mine out all year in a little corner of the piano dedicated to musical inspiration; accompanying him are a small headshot of Art Garfunkel clipped from the paper when he was in Erie in 2000 and a statue of Schroeder playing the piano. They make a merry trio. The ornament takes three AAA batteries, and in all these years I’ve never had to change them. If they ever run out, though, I will be sure to switch them out; there’s nothing like a few lines of Annie’s Song to provide a quick pick-me-up on a gloomy day.

My Favorite Versions of Traditional Religious Christmas Songs

It’s always a pleasure singing traditional Christmas carols in church, around the neighborhood or near our little Advent wreath this time of year. But as much as Christmas music is a communal experience, hundreds of musicians have recorded these sacred songs, giving us many different ways to enjoy them. Here are a few of my favorite specific recordings of various religious Christmas songs.

Angels We Have Heard on High – Having just recently seen Straight No Chaser in concert, I have to award them the honor of my favorite version of this celestial-sounding carol. Jerome Collins puts a soulful twist on the melody, and all those gorgeous voices coming together really does sound like a choir of angels. Throw in the visual element of some crystal blue lighting, and the effect is heavenly. “Gloria in Excelsis Deo!” This one is bundled with Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, and it’s a logical pairing; I always have to stop a minute to think about which song is which. Though it’s the former song that makes the bigger impression on me in this mash-up, both are beautifully done. “Hark! The herald angels sing. Glory to the newborn king!”

Away in a Manger – I consider this the most basic of Christmas carols, the first one that most children learn how to sing. There are two different melodies commonly used; I prefer the slightly more somber-sounding one to the one most Sunday school students cut their musical teeth on, but both are lovely. When it comes to conveying sweet simplicity, John Denver is hard to beat, and his gentle acoustic rendition of the “kid” version gets my vote. For the “adult” version, meanwhile, Anne Murray’s heartfelt recording, which incorporates both piano and guitar and includes a nod at the other melody, is my favorite. “Be near me, Lord Jesus. I ask thee to stay close by me forever and love me, I pray…”

Carol of the Bells - It has no words, and it starts out with God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen. It’s a little unconventional. But boy, do I love Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s electrified rendition of this song, which is one of the harder carols to sing anyway. I prefer clutching my invisible hand bells in my fists and ringing them out in time to the music. If you’re going to go with a vocal version of the song, I do love Straight No Chaser’s version of this one too, with the men using their voices to imitate the sound of bells. “Hark! How the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, ‘Throw cares away.’”

Children, Go Where I Send Thee – This one isn’t exactly as in the mainstream as most of the songs on this list, and it’s a little funny that I like it so much since I find The 12 Days of Christmas so tedious and really, this song only makes marginally more sense than that one. But there’s something so joyful about it, especially when Peter, Paul and Mary, who introduced me to the song, belt it out along with dozens of choir members. “Children, go where I send thee! How shall I send thee? I’m gonna send thee one by one, one for the itty bitty baby who was born, born, born in Bethlehem.”

Do You Hear What I Hear? – This is a song that seems to be very hard to get wrong. I’ve heard probably dozens of versions of it, and everybody, from Kristin Chenoweth to Bob Dylan, seems to bring their A game to this stirring anthem that celebrates the birth of Christ and expresses a desire for peace at a time when the threat of nuclear war hung heavy in the air. But Vanessa Williams’ version has just an extra something in it that puts it at the very top of my ranking. Her vocals are so clear and soulful, and I just love the exuberant instrumentation and African chanting that comes into play later in the song. Whenever this comes on the radio, I’m completely swept away in the wonder of it all. “Said the king to the people everywhere, listen to what I say. Pray for peace people everywhere. Listen to what I say. The child, the child sleeping in the night, he will bring us goodness and light…”

The First Noel - Clay Aiken recorded a Christmas album that came out just a year and a half after he emerged from the second season of American Idol the runner-up. I was pleased with the album, but my favorite Clay Christmas recording remains this song from the American Idol compilation released late in 2003. The sparse accompaniment allows Clay’s voice to truly shine as he builds toward a dramatic finish. This is one of those songs I’ve always liked but that never stood out that much from the pack. Ever since I heard that recording, it does. “Noel, noel, noel, noel. Born is the king of Israel.”

The Friendly Beasts – I really love the traditional rendition on Peter, Paul and Mary’s Christmas album, with each of them taking a verse and doing his or her best to convey the personality of the animal at hand and the choir helping out on the other verses. Meanwhile, the song, with a reworked melody, serves as a cornerstone on Jimmy Webb’s oratorio The Animals’ Christmas; as the only song on the album that Webb didn’t write himself, it brings an air of familiarity to an otherwise wholly original work for which he recruited the vocal talents of Art Garfunkel, Amy Grant and the Kings College School Choir. “Thus, every beast, by some good spell, in the stable rude was glad to tell of the gift he gave Emmanuel…”

God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen - They call it Comfort and Joy, which really is probably a better title, albeit less instantly recognizable. Simon and Garfunkel never recorded much Christmas music, but for whatever reason, they did record a couple of traditional carols. While it always seemed to me that Silent Night was used for ironic emphasis, with the exquisite harmonies juxtaposed against the far from tranquil news broadcast, this a cappella rendition with the increasingly complex harmonies can be taken at face value. Just a very nice recording. If you miss the instruments, of course, there’s always Trans-Siberian Orchestra… “Remember Christ the Savior was born on Christmas day to save us all from Satan’s pow’r when we were gone astray. Oh, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy. Oh, tidings of comfort and joy.”

Good King Wenceslas – My brother recently identified this very old ballad as his favorite Christmas song, and we set out in search of a version to play for him before he set out for college again after our little First Sunday in Advent service at the conclusion of Thanksgiving weekend. He didn’t think much of the Irish Rovers rendition we played; it was much too peppy, he informed us, and he preferred versions that really made us feel that faithful page’s pain. But there’s a lot of joy in this song about a warm and generous monarch whose chief concern is the well-being of one of his poorest citizens, so the Rovers’ exuberant version is fine by me. “Therefore, Christian men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing, ye who now will bless the poor shall yourselves find blessing.”

Joy to the World - This is a wonderfully ecstatic song, but it’s one that’s in danger of getting a little over-the-top, as it does on Clay Aiken’s Christmas album. I prefer versions that show a little restraint before going all-out, and my favorite is Anne Murray’s, backed by some nice Gospel-flavored piano accompaniment and eventually joined by a choir. It works quite nicely and is easy to sing along with. “Joy to the world, the Lord is come. Let Earth receive her King!”

The Little Drummer Boy – This gentle song about a little boy who gives the best that he has to the Christ Child is representative of a large sub-genre of Christmas stories, most of which are quite touching. The original Harry Simeone version is nice, but as far as basic versions go, I love the punchy way Bob Seger does it. But probably my favorite version is the odd pairing of Bing Crosby and David Bowie, with the counter-melody in which Bowie dreams of a day when people can learn to get along with each other. At first it seemed a bit of a strange juxtaposition to me, but upon reflection, it reminds me of the passage in Isaiah that concludes with “and a little child shall lead them.” Anyway, a very poignant recording, especially considering how late it came in Crosby’s life. “I have no gift to bring, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum, that’s fit to give a king, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum-pum…”

O Come All Ye Faithful - Art Garfunkel recorded this one for some obscure collection a few years back, and it’s the most intricate, exquisite rendition I’ve heard. It’s a shame it’s rather hard to track down. With simple acoustic guitar accompaniment gradually joined by gentle percussion and accordion, what really makes this stand out is the dense layers of Art harmonizing with himself, especially toward the end. I also have to mention Trans-Siberian Orchestra once again, as their reworked rendition is quite moving, and Phil Coulter integrated the song into Christmas Morning Donegal, the haunting, nostalgic ballad that I’ve come to think of as the Celtic Thunder swan song of powerhouse tenor Paul Byrom. This is a song that tends to inspire the best in musicians… “O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord!”

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel - I’ve always thought that this Christmas carol had a very Jewish feeling to it, so it seems appropriate for Neil Diamond to take top honors here. His version feels mysterious and solemn, and the pairing with We Three Kings just emphasizes the idea of this birth being a long-anticipated event. “O come, o come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel…”

O Little Town of Bethlehem – There are plenty of appropriately somber versions of this song floating around, but my favorite is the peppy, bluegrass-tinged Prairie Home Companion edition, in which it is mashed up with It Came Upon a Midnight Clear and We Three Kings, which makes a smashing chorus. There are much more traditional versions of each carol readily available, but Garrison Keillor and his band really do a bang-up job on this one. “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie. Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by…”

Silent Night – Now this is certainly a tough one, since it seems almost everyone who has ever recorded a Christmas album with any religious content at all has recorded this song. I love Simon and Garfunkel’s version, and Prairie Home Companion has an unusually bouncy instrumental version that’s a lot of fun. I find the Muppets’ German rendition quite moving. But I think I gotta go with Celtic Thunder on this one, especially since they paved the way for it by recording Christmas 1915, which incorporates the beloved carol. Their version of Silent Night itself is richly harmonic, with an interesting backing chorus, and one of the verses is entirely in Gaelic. It’s hauntingly beautiful. “Silent night, holy night. Son of God, love’s pure light…”

What Child Is This? - This is a pretty carol with a rather melancholy edge to it, largely because it takes the melody of that lovely lament, Greensleeves. I love John Denver’s simple but heartfelt rendition for all the reasons I love his Away in the Manger, and the faint presence of the harpsichord just makes it all the more appealing. “This, this is Christ the King whom shepherds guard and angels sing…”

O Holy Night - I always tell people that this is my default favorite Christmas song. In the month or two leading up to Christmas, my favorite will change on any given day, but if I’m not particularly gripped by anything at the time, O Holy Night is what I always fall back on. But I don’t have a favorite version. Of all the versions I’ve ever heard, the one that affected me most profoundly was a performance by a seven-year-old girl at a long-ago Christmas pageant. No version I’ve heard since can quite recapture that experience. Preferred versions include Josh Groban’s, Celine Dion’s, Straight No Chaser’s, John Denver’s and Celtic Woman’s, but I’m still on the hunt for that elusive definitive version. If anybody has any recommendations for me, I’d be happy to take them – bonus points if it includes my favorite, often-left-out verse. “Truly He taught us to love one another. His law is love and His Gospel is peace. Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother, and in His name, all oppression shall cease…”

So there’s my list. It doesn’t begin to cover all the great Christmas music that I love so much, but it’s a start anyway and gives you a good idea of where my musical tastes lie. Of course, at no time of year am I more likely to embrace new artists than at Christmas; the familiarity of the songs opens a door for me. So I hope this list continues to expand…

"Truly Blessed and Duly Grateful" - Bethesdalily's Gratitude Write-Off

I'm breaking in my brand-new laptop with a list of things I'm thankful for, as encouraged by Bethesdalily, whose write-off has caused bursts of blessings to blossom throughout Epinions like bright November flowers. It seems like a sure way to get this new piece of equipment off to a good start. I hope it lasts me as long as the first one, which I received for my 25th birthday, did. While I hated to retire that one, I can't help being grateful for the timing, as it finally went kaput just before Black Friday, allowing me to get the replacement at the most affordable time of the year. I'm grateful, too, that I had enough in the bank to cover it. But then, I have a lot to be grateful for, as I do every year. Big fan of quotes that I am, I thought it might be fun to compile a few gratitude quotes and use them as a jumping-off point for this very worthwhile exercise. So here we go...

“A thankful heart is a happy heart. I'm glad for what I have; that's an easy way to start.” Isn't it, though? This is a line from the VeggieTales video Madame Blueberry, the main song of which is a litany of gratitude concluding with, “That's why I say thanks every day.” I don't always remember to do that, but I should. I have friends who make it a point to regularly compile lists of things for which they're thankful, and it always brightens my day to read them and also to realize that I could list a lot of those same things. When things aren't going so well, give it a whirl, and I bet it will make you feel better. No matter how bad things get, there's always something to be grateful for.

“I guess I was raised never to question my blessings.” This is a line from Rose, the sage woman who is one of my favorite characters on LOST. I wish the show had used her more often; an extra dose of her serenity could have gone a long way in all that frenzy. Rose is all about acceptance. When life throws bad things her way, she bears it gracefully. And when something good comes along, she views it as a gift. Everything is a blessing or, at worst, a trial to be weathered with the help of those things and people that are blessings. It's a good way to look at life. And let me just take this opportunity to say that no 2010 gratitude reflection from me would be complete without mentioning LOST, a show that has provided me with so much intellectual and spiritual stimulation, that has deepened several friendships, that sparked the most intense creative period of my life and that gave me so many wonderful characters to fall in love with. LOST lost this fangirl money, but everything I gained far made up for the dent in my wallet.

“Thank you for this precious day, these gifts you give to me. My heart, so full of love for you, sings praise for all I see.” Isn't that a beautiful thought? It's from one of John Denver's loveliest songs, Falling Leaves, which uses this expansive gratitude as a jumping-off point for supplication on behalf of others. It's a song that discusses how wonderful the world can be but then acknowledges how many people in the world are disenfranchised. It makes me think of those St. Jude's Children's Hospital commercials: “Give thanks, and give...” If you truly have a grateful spirit, a natural outgrowth of that is to want to extend your blessings to those who could use a hand.

“Pick your diamond, pick your pearl, 'cause there is beauty in the world.” I just came upon this Macy Gray song within the last couple of months, as it's one that's in the regular rotation on the mall radio. Every time it comes on the air, I can't help grinning from ear to ear. It's just so life-affirming. I hear a lot about how much awful stuff is going on in the world today, and it just becomes very exhausting and dispiriting. This is a song that exuberantly encourages us to instead focus on the all that is right with the world. Each of us sees beauty in different things, but I think that everyone who takes the time to really look around can find something of beauty capable of brightening up the grayest day.

“For making me welcome, thank you.” This is the last line in the chorus of The Tinker, a gorgeous song by John Reynolds of the Irish Rovers. The speaker wanders from place to place, seeking shelter with strangers, and he always manages to find it. The kindness of others sustains him. It sustains all of us. We may not spend our lives as vagabonds, but how many times has your day been improved by a kind word or gesture from someone you randomly encounter? It happens to me all the time, and I hope that I've been on the other end of it, too. As a cashier at the mall, I try my best to treat every person I encounter with respect and friendliness. Sometimes folks just need someone to vent to, and I'm glad to be that person too. Any little thing I can do to make somebody's day a bit better, I try to do it; I know what a difference it makes when I'm on the receiving end, as I often am. You don't have to take someone into your home to be hospitable; just take them into your heart for a minute or two, and it can really have an impact.

“There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other.” This quote, from the first Harry Potter book, just makes me smile, and it's a great one for expressing the pleasure I've found in kindred spirits. When I was growing up, I often felt like an oddball. Epinions was one of the first sites I found after I really began immersing myself in the Internet, and I discovered that there are actually a lot of people out there who love the same things I do. This quote refers to a particularly powerful bonding experience, but I find that equally powerful is compatibility. As C. S. Lewis said, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one.'” I'm grateful to Epinions for introducing me to friends with whom I share something important, whether that's a beloved book, a favorite style of music, an engrossing TV show, an entertaining movie... You get the idea. I'm glad Epinions has given me a platform to write about these things and has introduced me to wonderful friends who understand just where I'm coming from.

“I thank you for the kindness and the times when you got tough, and Papa, I don't think I've said 'I love you' near enough.” The late great Dan Fogelberg honored his father with Leader of the Band, one of my favorite songs ever and an exercise in gratitude if I ever heard one. Like him, I'm lucky enough to have wonderful parents, and I'm sure I don't tell them that often enough. As Abraham Lincoln said, “Everything I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” I can't imagine better parents than the ones I have. I owe them everything.

“Thank you for being a friend.” The Golden Girls has one of the best theme songs ever, and I'm happy to repeat it here. I have some pretty fantastic friends. Some have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember; some came along much later. Some of them I've never even met. If you got all of them together in one room, you'd have an eclectic mix indeed, but all of them have contributed greatly to my happiness. I'm grateful for Facebook, too, for helping me to keep in contact with many of them.

“I've got a hand holding my hand. It's not a hand you can see...” This is part of John Bucchino's Grateful, recorded by Art Garfunkel for his Across America concert in the 1990s. It's a beautiful song for Thanksgiving and the whole year, and I especially love this verse. It reminds me of several things. Footprints in the Sand. God's constant presence. Thestrals. J. K. Rowling's marvelous invention of creatures who perform an important service and can only be seen by those who have witnessed death. Harry initially sees them as grotesque, but they eventually serve as a reassurance that, as Dumbledore once told him, those who we've loved and lost never truly leave us. And Pushing Daisies. Ned and Charlotte love each other but can never touch. One of the many ways they come up with to cope is to hold their own hands at the same time, pretending they are holding each other's. A very sweet image for the ways that people separated by physical distance can stay connected.

“You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you, but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world, after all.” My all-time favorite quote, it reminds me that I should be open to amazing things happening and willing to help them come about, but I should approach them with an attitude of humility. I should be grateful for being a part of them instead of just figuring they happened because I myself did something remarkable to bring them about. I hope I'm a fine person, but I'll never forget that I am quite a little fellow in a wide world, after all. And, as Bilbo acknowledged, “Thank goodness.”

This Fall, Fall For Secondhand Serenade's A Twist in my Story

I work in a kiosk in the mall, which means that even when there aren’t many customers around, I can’t honestly describe my shift as “quiet,” since I’m getting a full blast of the mall radio at all times. During one glorious kiosk season, whoever was in charge of the radio must have been feeling nostalgic, and I got treated to the likes of Jim Croce, the Turtles, Arlo Guthrie and even the occasional Simon and Garfunkel. Usually, however, the music that plays is much more recent, and little of it appeals to my sensibilities. Still, once in a while, a song will capture my attention, which is what happened this year with Fall For You, a song that I have heard nearly every day I’ve worked since the kiosk opened. I don’t mind; in fact, I look forward to it. So I decided that I should find out just where this song came from, and that led me to Secondhand Serenade.

I’d never heard of this one-man band before, nor had I ever encountered one of the songs written by singer-songwriter John Vesely, who has released three albums under the band name inspired by the fact that he began writing songs to sing to his wife, meaning that any other listeners were getting them “secondhand”. Sadly, this sweet sentiment comes with a bitter story, as Vesely and his wife separated in 2008, the same year that he released A Twist in the Story, the album from which Fall For You is drawn, and the pain of the fracturing relationship is evident throughout.

In this second album, Vesely has orchestral backing, and other vocalists occasionally chime in, but he frequently harmonizes with himself as he did on his first album, often with quite affecting results. When my fondness for the album’s platinum single led me to track down the rest of the songs, I feared that it would turn out to be a fluke and that the rest of his music wouldn’t particularly appeal to me. However, I am happy to report that instead, I’ve found another artist to add to my list of favorites.

Fall for You - This song comes second on the album, but since it’s what pulled me in to begin with, I felt it fitting to start here. What captures my attention first is the piano. I’m always a sucker for a melodically strong song in which piano is the most prominent instrument, whether it’s something gorgeously legato like John Denver’s For You or refreshingly exuberant like Train’s Drops of Jupiter. Here, I love the way it makes its presence known through sparseness, only one chord per measure, before giving way to more persistent accompaniment in the first chorus. It’s almost drowned out during the electrified, percussion-heavy second verse, chorus and bridge, but before the final angsty chorus, we’re treated to a final chorus backed just by that delicate piano.

Vesely doesn’t have the smoothest of voices; there’s a raw edge to it that reminds me of Billie Jo Armstrong, particularly in Wake Me Up When September Ends, probably my favorite Green Day song. He has an especially plaintive tone here; we get the sense that this is a relationship that has gone sour but that he is still very much in love and ready to own up to whatever of his own mistakes may have contributed to the rift. In that regard, this song calls to mind Journey’s Open Arms, a passionate ballad that will always hold a special place in my heart for causing me to swoon for Clay Aiken, who sang it during the semi-finals of American Idol.

But I digress, as I am wont to do. The point is that the combination of the dynamic use of piano, very personal lyrics and the wrenching delivery make this a song that I genuinely don’t object to having lodged in my head all day. Vesely has an anguished tone throughout much of the song, at times almost shouting the lyrics, while nearly whispering at others. The aching vulnerability in the word “live“ on the last piano-driven chorus is especially affecting. Displaying a curious mixture of despair and hope, along with a repetitive phrase that burrows right into your brain, Fall For You is the album’s standout track. “Tonight will be the night that I will fall for you over again. Don’t make me change my mind, or I won‘t live to see another day, I swear it‘s true, because a girl like you is impossible to find. You’re impossible to find.”

Like a Knife - This track is more driven by electric guitar, and it too has to do with the breakdown of a relationship. It’s a natural lead-in to Fall For You, as the song seems to stem from the immediate aftermath of a break-up. At times, the strings of the electric guitar seem to slash like a knife; elsewhere in the song, when he sings of her walking out of his life, a solemn military-style march accompanies him. Meanwhile, his intricate harmonies toward the end of the song express a yearning for togetherness. “Goodbyes are meant for lonely people standing in the rain, and no matter where I go, it’s always pouring all the same.”

Maybe - Another pleading song, with a harsher edge to it than Fall For You. Electric guitars accompany Vesely’s accusatory vocals as he sings of a woman who refuses to listen to his side of the story. This, too, includes a note of optimism toward the end, but it feels like a vain hope, as though this relationship has long passed the point of repair. One of the most hard-rocking tracks on the album. “There goes my ring; it might as well have been shattered. And I'm here to sing about the things that mattered. About the things that made us feel alive for oh so long. About the things that kept you on my side when I was wrong.”

Stranger - This piano-heavy track begins with some mysterious-sounding instrumentation I can’t quite identify, but it adds a mystical edge to this mellow song that seems to have inspired the cover art of an angel lying on a couch. An unabashedly affectionate song that is one of my favorites on the album, it features some nice harmony and the sorts of sentiments that seem likely to set the heart of many a romantic aflutter. “Your beauty seems so far away, I’d have to write a thousand songs to make you comprehend how beautiful you are.”

Your Call - A nostalgic series of recollections backed by acoustic guitar. The lines in the first verse are parsed rather strangely, but that makes them stand out more. I also like the way the violins are plucked to add a sense of urgency in the last verse. Still, my favorite part of the song is the beautifully sung chorus, in which Vesely quietly sings with himself, adding to the earnest quality of the song. “I was born to tell you I love you, and I am torn to do what I have to.”

Suppose - This electric guitar-heavy song is more on the rockin’ side of things than most tracks on the album. It reminds me a bit of If I Loved You from the musical Carousel in that most of the “suppose” statements he is making are the way that he actually feels. A very emotionally raw track. “My eyes are screaming for the sight of you, and tonight, I’m dreaming of all the things that we’ve been through.”

A Twist in My Story - This title track is another acoustic number, and since Vesely refers to his divorce as the twist in his story, I get the sense that this is about him learning how to live again after a period of numbness following the breakdown of his relationship with his wife. It reminds me of Bella, the narrator of most of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series, in New Moon, when the departure of her boyfriend Edward causes a complete detachment from life, until one day she suddenly finds herself starting to engage with the world again. I especially like the way the guitar is played to accentuate the idea of his heart roaring back to life, and the majestic-sounding percussion toward the end of the song is also impressive. “Say, what’s that sound? It’s my heartbeat. It’s getting much louder. My heartbeat is stronger than ever. I’m feeling so alive. I’m feeling so alive.”

Why - Piano and guitar work together on this introspective song that exploits Vesely’s upper register well. The song is an acknowledgment of past wrongs on his part and a plea for understanding on hers, with the verses answering all of the questions the chorus asks. It reminds me a bit of John Denver’s I’m Sorry, with the speaker apologizing but never truly accepting the blame for the breakdown. “What matters most? Everything that you feel while listening to every word that I sing. I promise I will bring you home.”

Stay Close, Don’t Go - Electric guitars are prominent on this plaintive song in which he pleads for her not to leave. Again, I find myself thinking of Bella, who becomes so dependent upon Edward that she can’t imagine herself living without him, while the verse in which he confesses to staring at her as she sleeps reminds me of Edward. At no point in the series, however, is he in any genuine danger of Bella leaving him, whereas she lives in a constant state of adulation and insecurity that he will abandon her. At any rate, a rather angsty song. “Don’t you see, I’m not the only one for you, but you’re the only one for me.”

Pretend - There’s an aching tone to this acoustic guitar-driven track. The relationship has broken down at this point, and he wants to move on, but he can’t figure out how to make a clean break. A melodic song with a despairing tone, it is one of the quieter songs on the album. “It’s hard to be all alone. I never got through your disguise. I guess I’ll just go and face all my fear.”

Goodbye - I’m back to thinking about John Denver again in this mostly mellow track backed by acoustic guitar. “It’s not enough to say I’m sorry” seems like an appropriate admission of the inadequacy of a semi-sincere apology, even in the form of a beautiful song. I’m Sorry has a companion song in Goodbye Again, and Why’s companion is this repetitive song in which he confesses that he just needs to say goodbye. The song ends with his layered voice lending an air of harmony to the final moments of an album that is so acutely focused on discord.

A Twist in My Story is not a particularly uplifting album. It reminds me of Jason Robert Brown’s The Last Five Years, a musical for two people in which the man chronicles his five-year relationship from beginning to end and she from end to beginning. Vesely only gives us hints of the heady early stages of this romance; mainly it’s just a collection of reflections on what went wrong and how to go on living now that everything has changed. A Twist in My Story is a very October sort of CD: bleak but beautiful.

Walking Thunder Is a Family-Friendly Frontier Film

A little while back, I rented the movie Higher Ground, a made-for-TV film from the 1980s starring John Denver and featuring two of his songs. When I saw that Netflix also had Walking Thunder, another John Denver movie, I was eager to give that a shot too.

Written and directed by Craig Clyde, Walking Thunder is a movie of comparable tone and quality. It’s a family-friendly film involving father-son conflict, explorations of the wilderness and interactions with indigenous people. Unlike Higher Ground, this movie is mostly set in the 1800s, though it is framed in the present as a boy reads the journal of one of his ancestors.

The movie has a bit of a Little House on the Prairie feel to it, except that the children in the McKay family are boys rather than girls. Patriarch John (Denver) is restless and rugged, not content to remain with a steady job when it means he has to be employed by someone else. His wife Emma (Irene Miracle) tries to be patient, but her frustration with his choices becomes apparent after an accident leaves them stranded in the mountains for the winter. To make matters worse, she is expecting their third child in just a couple of months.

To Jacob (David Tom) and his younger brother, this is all a grand adventure, especially once they cross paths with mountain man Abner Murdoch (James Read) and his elderly companion, the mystical Dark Wind (Ted Thin Elk). These are the two most engaging characters in the movie. Abner is an exotic outsider who instantly has the adulation of Jacob, though he tries to discourage it. Meanwhile, though Dark Wind doesn’t speak English, he becomes an invaluable asset to the rest of the family when Jacob joins Abner on a trip to the trading post.

This is a wholesome, family-friendly movie, and it features some spectacular landscapes, not to mention a number of scenes involving Walking Thunder (Bart the Bear), an enormous bear with a strange connection to the land where the McKays have decided to settle for the winter. The pace is a bit plodding; it’s an hour and a half long but feels considerably longer.

There’s something a little wooden about most of the acting and dialogue, and Denver is no exception to that, though John does share some nice moments of vulnerability with Jacob. He has a very serious air about him throughout the movie, rarely smiling and looking especially solemn with his jumbo-sized mustache. And, most unfortunately, he doesn’t do any singing at all. The setting seems very fitting for him, though.

I’m not sure how well this movie would hold the attention of most children. Jacob is reasonably engaging, and there are some bad guys who blunder in partway through to provide a mix of menace and comic relief. On the whole, though, the comedy quotient is pretty low, and the story tends toward the excessively didactic at times. For kids interested in frontier times, this would probably be a good choice, however. A kind of throwback to some of the old live action Wonderful World of Disney movies, Walking Thunder is also John Denver’s last movie, having been completed the year he died. While it’s not the most thrilling frontier saga I’ve ever seen, I think he would be proud of the results.

John Denver Flies High in Higher Ground

When it comes to individual singers, I don’t think there’s anybody who holds a more exalted place in my musical hierarchy than John Denver. So when I was browsing around YouTube the other day looking for a recording of Alaska and Me, I was startled to come across a version of the song from a movie I never knew existed. The title: Higher Ground, which is also the title of my favorite John Denver album, the album on which Alaska and Me is found. I didn’t care what the movie was about; I immediately put it in my Netflix queue.

I figured, though, that there would be an inspirational bent to it. After all, this was John Denver, and the movie shares its name with a song whose chorus is “Maybe it’s just the dream in me, maybe it’s just my style, maybe it’s just the freedom that I’ve found, but given the possibility of living up to the dream in me, you know that I’ll be reachin’ for higher ground.” It looks as though the song may have been written specifically for the movie; certainly it’s integrated into the score to an almost excessive extent, with the keyboard picking up the theme with various emotional shadings at key moments in the movie.

Knowing that at least one other song from the album was featured in the movie, I had hopes that it might be a showcase for several of the tracks, but Alaska and Me and Higher Ground are the only songs included, with the exception of a song at a sing-along whose words I can’t make out. If it’s a John Denver song, it’s one I’ve never heard before. Granted, looking over the songs on the album, several of them seem completely inappropriate, particularly Sing Australia and Country Girl in Paris. But there are a couple of scenes in which All This Joy would have fit in very nicely, and there could have been a place for For You or Never a Doubt.

Music isn’t a huge part of this movie, though. Denver’s character is Jim Clayton, an FBI agent in Los Angeles who becomes disillusioned with his job after his boss makes a choice that costs someone his life. He decides to take his buddy Rick up on his offer to come to Alaska and fly for his struggling airline, which primarily shuttles fishing supplies. Rick is played by Martin Kove, previously known to me only as El Creepo Supremo John Kreese in the Karate Kid movies. I recognized him immediately and was curious to see him in this much more sympathetic role. While Rick is a bit of a hothead, he’s indisputably a good guy, and I especially like the camaraderie between him and Jim.

Rick is a husband and a father. His wife Ginny (Meg Wittner) ends up having a larger role than he does, as does his son Tommy, played by Brandon Marsh, whose single acting credit is for this movie. That doesn’t surprise me, since I found his performance very over-the-top and borderline abrasive. On the whole, though, I was fine with the acting, especially by Richard Masur, who is nicely understated as villainous booze runner McClain, and John Rhys-Davies, whose Lieutenant Smight is a robust Scotsman determined to see justice served.

This movie was written by Michael Eric Stein, directed by Robert Day and produced in part by John Denver. It feels like a pet project for him, and I can’t help thinking he had input into the general direction of the screenplay. For his fans, that’s pretty good news, though there’s something very unsettling now about seeing scene after scene of John Denver flying a small airplane over a large expanse of water. The scenery is gorgeous, however, and the emphasis on nature, clean living and diplomacy all seem right in line with the messages he presented through his music. Some of the dialogue is a little cheesy, especially Jim’s habit of calling everybody he meets “pal,” but that’s about what I would expect from a made-for-TV flick.

Yes, this movie was aired on television and then largely forgotten. I wouldn’t call it a masterpiece. But for a lifelong John Denver fan, it is a hidden treasure. If you count yourself in that category and are just as unaware of this film as I was, do yourself a favor and reach for Higher Ground.

Two Paper Companies Are Better Than One In The Office: Season Five

This past Christmas, my brothers got my parents and me hooked on NBC's workplace sit-com The Office. We breezed through four seasons in a few months before playing catch-up with the fifth season online. It's the only season of which we saw some of the episodes as they aired. With 23 episodes, it's nearly twice as long as the strike-shortened fourth season, and although affable salesman Jim (John Krasinski) and sunny receptionist Pam (Jenna Fischer) are officially a couple and nothing comes along to threaten their relationship much, all sorts of other entanglements are happening around them.

In the beginning, the big question on the Jim and Pam front is when Jim will pop the question, since it's obvious he's been burning to do so for a long time and is simply waiting for the right moment. The inevitable engagement scene comes early in the season and is surprisingly underplayed, considering how much buildup was behind it. They're also forced to endure long-distance romance while Pam takes art classes in New York, though this doesn't last long.

Meanwhile, preppy warbler Andy (Ed Helms) remains engaged to prissy accountant Angela (Angela Kinsey), but he as he eagerly makes wedding arrangements, she has covert meetings with her old flame, the relentlessly eccentric Dwight (Rainn Wilson). Clueless boss Michael Scott (Steve Carell) finally gets his shot at true love with the new public relations person, the daffy Holly (Amy Ryan), but his life takes a turn for the worse when David Wallace (Andy Buckley) from corporate get wind of their romance, which breaks company policy.

The most surprising story arc of the fifth season involves Michael's rash decision to leave Dunder Mifflin after David hires the no-nonsense Charles (Idris Elba) as an intermediary between himself and Michael. Dunder-headed Michael has no idea how to get along in the world outside of his cozy position, and he seems likely to flounder, especially when he announces that he will be starting up his own rival paper company. However, Pam demonstrates initiative and loyalty by offering to join him in his new venture, and it isn't long before Michael tracks down former know-it-all intern Ryan (B. J. Novak), now working in a bowling alley, and convinces him to join the team. The three of them have an interesting dynamic, with Pam the go-getter who keeps the project from unraveling and Ryan the useless tagalong. Back at the office, Angela and flirtatious Kelly (Mindy Kaling) compete for the favor of the nonplussed Charles, and Dwight struggles to retain his clients in the face of the sudden threat from Michael.

Dwight is the most outlandish character in a show full of kooks, so many of the season's most memorable scenes belong to him. Crime Aid has him emulating Jud Fry in an amusing parody of Oklahoma!'s auction scene. In Moroccan Christmas, he brings to mind the Tickle-Me-Elmo and Furby crazes as he stocks up on the year's "it" toy and charges his officemates exorbitant rates for their children's satisfaction. Prince Family Paper is Dwight at his most infuriating, undermining Michael's soft-hearted decision not to use the information gathered on a Mom and Pop paper company during an undercover mission against them, as is Stress Relief, in which Dwight goes so overboard on creating a realistic fire alarm that Stanley (Leslie David Baker) has a heart attack.

My very favorite Dwight moment of the season occurs in conjunction with Andy in The Michael Scott Paper Company, in which the two, caught up in rivalry with each other even as they try to nourish a friendship, throw together a guitar-banjo rendition of John Denver's Take Me Home, Country Roads that is more like Dueling Banjos. It was a sublime surprise for this John Denver fan - particularly as they happen to be singing for the benefit of a character named Erin - followed by a disagreeable jolt when wet blanket Toby (Paul Lieberstein) cut the concert short.

We watched part of this season out of order, and it didn't really make much of a difference. It's best to watch episodes of The Office is the proper sequence, but it isn't critical to one's enjoyment or understanding. The shake-ups that occur in the fifth season are entertaining, and several developments in the final episode set us up for excitement in the sixth, which is already upon us. I can hardly wait!

Michael Jackson Encourages Everyone to "Heal the World, Make It a Better Place"

There are many things I will remember about Michael Jackson, but first and foremost, I will recall his humanitarianism. He always struck me a man who was profoundly concerned about the welfare of the disenfranchised, especially children. Throughout the '80s and '90s, this focus was especially evident in songs like Man in the Mirror, Earth Song and, of course, We Are the World, a massive effort uniting many of the biggest musical superstars of the day for the sake of raising money for famine relief in Africa. Similar in tone and message to the latter is 1991's Heal the World, one of Jackson's quietest but ultimately most impressive hits.

Like several of his inspirational-style songs, it has a chorus that, at one point, grows mightier with each repetition as the accompanying choir swells. By the end of the song, you're left with the impression that everybody in the world truly is pitching in to help, while the child at the end drives home the point that each one of us ought to make an individual, personal effort. It's a child who starts and ends the song, one by speaking, the other by singing, and while it's a Jackson solo until about two-thirds of the way through the song, the children are the stars of the video, with the King of Pop completely absent. Of all his videos, at least the ones I've seen, I would say that this one is the least egocentric. I also discovered that, according to a 2001 chat session with fans, it's the song of which he's proudest.

Heal the World seems to me to have a very '70s vibe to it. It's mellow in the extreme, with the first half, anyway, sounding more like John Denver's style than Michael Jackson's - and I suspect that Denver approved of this song heartily. I'm not aware of their ever having worked together, but when it came to issues like the ones explored in this song, I think they were very much on the same page. What a collaboration that would have been! The video's whole theme of children (toting flowers, no less) convincing soldiers to lay down their guns feels very hippie-ish and reminds me specifically of Rhymes and Reasons, in which Denver sings, "For the children and the flowers are my sisters and my brothers" and "It is written, 'From the desert to the mountains they shall lead us...'"

I don't know that I'd ever actually watched the video before this week. If I did, it was a long time ago, and as I never had MTV, I don't know when the occasion would have arisen. I'm not a huge fan of music videos in general, but I generally like Jackson's, and I love this one. It feels so cinematic, so simple but powerful. It cuts between scenes of peace and destruction, of children playing and of bombs going off. It soon becomes the story of an ever-growing group of children from all walks of life drawing near to a group of heavily armed soldiers, who begin to take note of their approach and ultimately are moved, in the face of such innocence, to trade their guns for flowers. At that point, the rest of the video involves a candlelight vigil whose attendance grows with each increase in volume in the repeated chorus. There's a certain naivety to the video, but then Jackson was never known for being 100 percent in tune with reality. And who knows? If everyone took the sentiments in this song to heart, maybe wars could end this painlessly.

Jackson's voice always was on the high side, but this song showcases his upper register even more than most. It's so soft and flutey, and especially in the verses, it sounds like he's going into a falsetto. While the opening line of the song doesn't quite work for me ("There's a place in your heart, and I know that it is love" seems as grammatically suspect as "I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free"), I love the lyrics in general. "We stop existing and start living" is a great line, and lines like "See the nations turn their swords into ploughshares" give the song a biblical resonance. The chorus works best of all; it's powerful and easy to remember, especially since it's repeated so many times. By the time the song ends, the message has really been driven home.

Michael Jackson was right to be proud of this song. It's one of his finest, especially when the video is factored into the equation. In fact, the video is on the verge of displacing my long-held favorite, Will You Be There. Unlike that exuberant number, Heal the World isn't the sort of song that makes you want to get up and dance. But it does make you want to get up and make a difference.

Sing We Now of Christmas: Join Me in Celebrating the Songs of the Season!

One of my favorite aspects of the end of the year is listening to Christmas music. I'm one of those people who has endless tolerance for these seasonal tunes, though generally I discipline myself and only listen to them for about two months so as to enhance my appreciation for them the next time around. I have a thick stack of Christmas albums at home, and every year I happily pull them out - though for the third year running, a local radio station has provided all Christmas music, all the time, decreasing my motivation to put the old favorites into rotation. There's something exhilarating about stumbling upon a song I absolutely love when I'm not expecting it. I have the radio tuned to the sounds of the season as often as possible, and whether I'm putting away stock at work or dozing away in my bed, there are certain songs that always cause me to stop for a moment just to listen (and maybe, if I am sufficiently unaccompanied, sing along). Below is a list of my favorite non-traditional Christmas songs; most are ones I regularly hear on the radio, but I've also included a few that ought to be in the rotation.

Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men

What better time than Christmas to try to embrace our better natures and build a bridge to a brighter tomorrow?

Do They Know It's Christmas? - This hit single released in the early 80s by a group of pop stars going by the name Band Aid is every bit as timely today as it was then. It's an important reminder of how many people there are living in hunger and poverty in the world. The focus is on Africa, though the sentiment could be expanded to encompass other continents as well. The point is to look at "the world outside your window" and do something constructive about its problems. The song is a little simplistic, and watching the video with its line-up of 80s idols with bad hair is rather amusing, but songwriter Bob Geldof's efforts to raise global consciousness are admirable, and it also happens to be one of the catchiest songs on the radio this time of year. The pounding percussion! The resonant tolling of bells! The searing accusation by Bono! Boy George's eerily feminine pipes joyfully encouraging us, "Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime!" Why, thank you... I think I will!

Happy Xmas (War Is Over) - While we're on the subject of saving the world, I must let John Lennon have his say. I first heard this song on Neil Diamond's Christmas album; when I finally heard the original, I was surprised at how similar the arrangements were. I've since heard another version that is also nearly identical. It's a very simple song, but the counter-melody is such a perfect complement to the main vocals that any embellishments would detract from its power. Like much of Lennon's work, it advocates peace, and the choir of children is representative of a hope that future generations will better learn how to live with one another. It too is sadly as appropriate today as when it was written, with its pleading mantra of "War is over if you want it." While there's no acknowledgment of the divine in this song, at least there's not the sense that Lennon was bashing religion (which I must admit he did a bit in Imagine), and I can't see anything anti-Christian about his desire for brotherhood. This is my favorite song from Lennon's solo career.

Someday at Christmas - I couldn't tell you when it was that I first heard this song, but last year was when I really took notice of it. When I finally looked it up, I felt like a dolt because I'd thought the song was sung by a woman, when in fact those were the dulcet tones of Stevie Wonder I'd been hearing. He has several songs in the regular holiday rotation, and I like them all, but this is my favorite by far. Its basic message is very similar to Happy XMas, expressing optimism that people can refrain from violence. The melody is beautiful, and while the provocative first line - "Someday at Christmas, men won't be boys playing with bombs like kids play with toys" - is quiet and backed with instrumentation vaguely reminiscent of a music box, it builds in intensity, with choral backing and lots of soulful vocals, particularly on the wistful line, "Maybe not in time for you and me, but someday at Christmastime."

Light One Candle - I never hear this one on the radio, and more's the pity. This is one of two outstanding songs penned by Peter Yarrow that appear on our well-worn Peter Paul and Mary Christmas album. The Magi (The Heart of Man's a Palace) is just as fantastic, but Light One Candle sticks in my head more, probably because it's generally accompanied by a crowd of glowing lights from the audience. Additionally, they don't restrict its use to Christmas concerts. This is actually a Hanukkah song, with specific references to the Maccabees and the central metaphor of ever-burning candles, but it's an anthem that's also intended to reach further than that. It's a universal call to keep (or find) the faith; by the time they get everyone in attendance singing along in jubilation, the burden and promise of justice prevailing feels tangible.

Something About Christmas Time - Easily confused with Jon Bon Jovi's I Wish Every Day Could Be Like Christmas, which is nearly as good, Bryan Adams' song, like most in this category, intensifies as it goes on. He's joined by an inspiring chorus, and there's just enough of a rock edge to this song to make me want to do a fist pump in time to the Christmas bells that chime in partway through. Another song that urges everyone to let Christmas seep into their hearts. "I know it's not too late. The world would be a better place if we can keep the spirit more than one day in the year. Send a message loud and clear."

Snoopy's Christmas - This should probably go with the novelty songs, but while some might find a sound effects-laden song about Flying Ace Snoopy to be a little hard to take seriously, I can't help but find it heartwarming. It's a very peppy song, augmented by a military drum roll, an austere recitation of O Tannenbaum and some very cheery-sounding bells. In part, I take the song as a tribute to the 1914 Christmas truce between German and British troops; in any event, it's a joyful narrative about the wonder of Christmas yielding compassion from unexpected sources. The implication? If these foes can bury the hatchet for the day, why not everyone else? Plus, it's awfully fun to hear those Royal Guardsmen growl, "the Bloody Red Baron!"

Christmas 1915 - Speaking of the Christmas truce, I discovered this gem after compiling this list.  Written by Cormac McConnell, it was recently recorded by the group Celtic Thunder, whose members harmonize gorgeously in this haunting account of a fleeting peace and the carnage that followed.  Exhilarating.  Heartbreaking.  And my favorite new Christmas song of 2008.  "Silent night.  No cannons roar. / A king is born of peace forevermore. / All's calm, all's bright, / All brothers hand in hand / In 19 and 15 in No Man's Land."

A New York Christmas - This is a 2010 discovery thanks to the mall radio.  This inspring anthem has a rock edge to it and a melody that grabbed me from the first time I heard it and just wouldn't let me go.  It captures both the grit and glory of New York City in this time of year, and its plea for an open-hearted response to the disenfranchised of society is just the sort of rallying cry that's needed in a too-often apathetic age.  "Call on your angels, come down from the city. / Crowd around the big tree, all you strangers who know me. / Bring your compassion, your understanding. / Lord, how we need it on this New York City Christmas."

In the City of David...

While many contemporary Christmas songs focus on the general joy of the season and often sidestep the Nativity altogether, several are specific to the first Christmas. These are some of my favorites.

Mary's Boy Child - This one is borderline traditional. My aunt once performed it in a choir concert, and we sang it during a Sunday School Christmas program several years back (when I was incensed at the insistence upon replacing "man" in the chorus with the gender-neutral, dorky-sounding "folks"). Still, I can't quite lump it together with sing-along favorites like Joy to the World, Angels We Have Heard on High and The First Noel, in part because I consider there to be only one definitive version of this song, and that's Boney M's. A typical group of carolers just can't replicate the energy and exuberance of their rendition, which never fails to leave me grinning from ear to ear. It helps that there's so much going on in the song, particularly towards the end, when the spiritual Oh My Lord is expertly incorporated. The harmonies are wonderful, the energy infectious, the steel drums and Caribbean accents irresistible. Simply one of the happiest Christmas songs I can think of. "Hark now hear the angels sing, a king is born today, and man will live forevermore because of Christmas day!"

The Gift - When I first heard this song on the radio last year, it stopped me dead in my tracks. I immediately turned up the volume and stood riveted to this gentle story of an impoverished young girl who nurses an injured bird back to health just in time for the grand presentation of gifts at the local church. While the version I've heard is a cover, it's so exquisite I have no great desire to listen to the original. The singer is Aselin Debison, a young girl herself, and the purity of her voice perfectly matches the innocence of the young protagonist. One thing I love about this song is the fact that it's narrative; not only that, it has no chorus, instead wandering along gradually through the verses in a refreshingly unhurried manner. Its first eight lines are a cappella, which accentuates the beauty of Debison's voice and renders the guitars that serve as the first accompaniment all the more beautiful. Even more lovely is the flute toward the end, which is meant to imitate birdsong. Basically, this is yet another variation on The Little Drummer Boy, which has essentially spawned a sub-genre among Christmas tales; it's particularly similar to the picture book The Most Precious Gift. It's pretty obvious how the story will end, but that doesn't make the journey any less awe-inspiring.

Down Among the Bushes of Jerusalem - This Irish Rovers song written by Tommy Sands doesn't stop with Jesus' birth. John Reynolds' wonderfully earthy, expressive vocals carry this lengthy ballad that describes Jesus as a rebel from his earliest days. The song is filled with Celtic instrumentation, including accordion and Irish drums. I almost think of it more as an Easter song, along the lines of Lord of the Dance, but it's on their Christmas album, and I suppose it fits in rather nicely with such songs as Mary Did You Know? "Born of honest parents and below a shining star, the word went 'round the country, and they came from near and far..."

Christmas Canon - This doesn't exactly focus on the Nativity, but it references the Christ Child and carries a note of profound hope in awaiting His return: "We are waiting. We have not forgotten." I first heard this song in its revamped version, entitled Christmas Canon Rock and featuring electric instruments and a powerhouse soloist. It wasn't until the perpetual Christmas music airplay began that I heard this original version. Both are by Trans-Siberian Orchestra, and I still can't decide which is my favorite, but I do love the classical sound of this one and the pristine vocals of the children who sing each of the three counter-melodies. They sound truly angelic. It doesn't hurt that the basis for the song is Pachelbel's Canon in D, which has long been a favorite of mine.

The Star Carol - Don't expect to hear this one on the radio either. I listen to this obscure recording, only available (as far as I know) as a part of the 3-CD boxed set Old Friends, and think, Why, oh why, couldn't have Simon and Garfunkel released a Christmas album? I know, I know... Too commercial, and I don't suppose Paul was too interested in singing an album almost entirely comprised of other people's material, or of composing a dozen original Christmas songs, especially when he is Jewish. Art did later record a Christmas album, albeit a most unusual one. At any rate, this is one of the few Christmas songs Simon and Garfunkel recorded and the only one that is not what I would call a traditional carol. I've never heard it elsewhere, though I understand that Aaron Neville also recorded it. The song sounds older than it is; though it was written in the fifties, its third and final verse is peppered with thees and thous. It's a very simple song reminiscent of Away in a Manger, but the harmonies are exquisite, and there's a sincerity to it that's lacking in the rushed rendition of Go Tell It on the Mountain from Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.. It's my favorite of their Christmas offerings because it's so different and so lovely, without any subtly dark undertones. It's quite a shame that it isn't more readily available.

Just for Fun

I'm such a sucker for Christmas specials, and a lot of awfully fun songs have been drawn from those. Others are delightful bits of silliness independent of any overarching story.

The Chipmunk Song - You know I had to stick these guys in here. What would Christmas be without squeaky Alvin pleading for a hula hoop and ignoring the musical direction of an ever more irritated Dave Seville? This song does a great job of capturing the impatience many children feel at Christmas, and it does so with trademark bickering humor and high-pitched harmonizing. Another amusing ditty along these lines is VeggieTales' hyper I Can't Believe It's Christmas, sung by Junior Asparagus, Laura Carrot and various other Veggie tots.

Oh Santa is my favorite Veggie offering, though. Larry, always the ambassador of childlike naivety, anxiously awaits the arrival of Santa (who, viewers will note, is Bob the Tomato in a rather transparent disguise). Before the big guy shows up, Larry is visited by several unsavory guests: a bank robber, a Viking and an IRS agent. While the lengthy song is certainly silly, it also has a good message, since Larry is willing to share his specially made Christmas cookies with those who have come to do him ill, and in turn, his assailants drop their attack. Another one you won't hear on the radio, but I love it!

Mr. Heatmiser - This ragtime song from Rankin and Bass's The Year Without a Santa Claus is arguably the most memorable tune to come from their many Christmas specials. Two climatically opposite brothers square off against each other, each assured in his position that his end of the thermometer is superior. I always get a kick out of hearing the version by the Big Bad Voodoo Daddies on the radio, though I prefer the original; I find it especially annoying that the wording of one line is changed without changing the line that rhymes with it: "I’m Mr. White Christmas. I’m Mr. Cool. I’m Mr. Icicle. I’m Mr. 10 Below." If you must change it from "Snow" to "Cool," can't you change the fourth sentence to something like "I'm Mr. Cancelled School" or "I'm Mr. 'Blizzards Rule!'"? That lack of a rhyme is just jarring. Otherwise, though, this piano-drenched face-off is loads of fun.

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch - I like this one even better, though it sounds more appropriate for Halloween than Christmas. Thurl Ravenscroft's distinctively deep voice and those deliciously ostentatious instrumentals do justice to Seuss's seriously skewered lyrics. Each line is expertly articulated, but I think my favorite moment has to be when he snarls, "You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch!" Out of context, this couldn't be less Christmassy, but it's quite a testament to the power of Christmas to think that it could transform a creature whose "soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable, mangled up in tangled up knots," into a compassionate spirit.

I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas - I only discovered this one a couple years ago, and I wonder how it could have escaped my notice for so many years. It was on an album by the Countdown Kids, who did several cheesy Christmas records that I wore out when I was little. We must have about every album except that one. When I first heard the song, I didn't believe it was actually sung by a little girl. I was convinced it was an adult trying to sound girlish, and not succeeding very well. But Gayla Peevey was only ten when she recorded the song as a fundraiser to bring a hippo to the Oklahoma City zoo. Her brassy voice reminds me of Ethel Merman. John Rox's goofy lyrics (I'm especially amused by his reference to a "hippo hero") and the brass band backup complement her over-the-top delivery, and they did the trick; the zoo got its hippo. I, however, am still waiting for mine. I guess I'll just have to sing louder!

Home for the Holidays

These last few are songs whose primary focus is domestic, with the emphasis on loved ones and how they interact with this holiday.

Aspenglow - I couldn't conclude this list without mentioning John Denver at some point. He has no shortage of qualifying songs, but I choose this one for its gentle, evocative beauty and its association with Colorado. Christmas for Cowboys is lovely as well, albeit less easily applicable. Though it's a tribute to one particular beloved town, most of the things Denver sings about in the guitar-heavy Aspenglow are the sorts of things that make a Christmas celebration merry no matter where you are. "Aspen is the life to live. See how much there is to give. See how strongly you believe. See how much you may receive."

You Make It Feel Like Christmas - One of my favorite Christmas albums is Neil Diamond's, and I've always been a fan of this original song, which is cozily upbeat. Aside from the title line, there are only a few specific references to Christmas; most of it is more of a general love song, a grateful tribute to a wife whose love endures and always manages to catch him off guard: "When people ask how we stay together, I say you never let me down." Given the fact that Diamond is Jewish, I take this song to be semi-autobiographical at best, perhaps reflecting his feelings but not the holiday trappings; then again, if he recorded an entire Christmas album, maybe he does have a tree in his living room in December after all...

It Doesn't Have to Be That Way - This Jim Croce song is a fairly recent discovery for me. I was startled to hear it on the radio a couple of years back; given his short career, it isn't often that I come across a "new" song by him, and I certainly would have thought I would have been aware of a Christmas song. This somber guitar-driven tune is very much along the same lines as Photographs and Memories, and it offers a window into the heart of those for whom Christmas may bring more pain than cheer, while leaving an opening for the possibility of a reconciliation between the man and his estranged love. "The windy winter avenues just don't seem the same, and the Christmas carols sound like blues, but the choir is not to blame."

Old City Bar - Trans-Siberian Orchestra is known for high-octane instrumental music and exhilirating light shows.  But of all their songs, my favorite is this acoustic ballad in which the focus is entirely upon the lyrics, which are delivered in a warm but ragged style reminiscent of an aged storyteller regaling his grandchildren with a tale by firelight.  Humble in presentation, epic in length, it is the one track upon which the narrative of Christmas Eve and Other Stories hinges.  A crusty bartender, a homesick girl and an angel in disguise interact in this powerful recollection of a Christmas miracle.  "If you want to arrange it / This world you can change it / If we could somehow make this / Christmas thing last / By helping a neighbor / Or even a stranger / And to know who needs help / You need only just ask."

Same Old Lang Syne - I'm ending with this because it's so unique among all the Christmas songs that get regular play on the radio, and with Dan Fogelberg's death last year, it has an even more melancholy flavor to it now. Piano and strings are the driving instruments in this reflective song, which tells the true story of a Christmas Eve encounter Fogelberg had with a former, now-married girlfriend. His vocals are achingly tender, with the sting of loss in the back of his throat before he can enjoy a moment of his reunion unencumbered. The layering of his vocals amplifies his loneliness, and his falsetto heights on the choruses are an eerie illustration of his plaintive state of mind. What's remarkable about this song is how accidentally it came about, right down to the timing. If this had happened in July, it wouldn't have gotten half the airplay it does, but because of the date, it gets to be in the Christmas rotation. It also gets an absolutely devastating last line, accompanied by instrumentation expertly approximating precipitation. "As I turned to make my way back home, the snow turned into rain." Brilliant.

So that's my list of favorites, though it's far from definitive. For instance, I didn't even touch Michael Card, who probably has a couple dozen or so original Christmas songs. I don't feel like trying to figure out which is my favorite, so suffice it to say that any of his are worth checking out, though none is likely to grace the radio airwaves, except perhaps on a Christian station. I'm sure as soon as I post this I'll think of a couple more absolutely essential Christmas songs, but this will have to do for now. If I'm up to it, traditional songs will be up next.

Meanwhile, I invite other writers to join me in celebrating your favorite Christmas songs, as few or as many as you'd like. If you'd care to join my Sing We Now of Christmas Write-off, drop me a comment or e-mail and I'll link you up! I'll keep this going through the end of December. Happy singing!