On the Seventeenth Day of Christmas

a) “Music from The O.C. Mix 3” by Various Artists

I have a bit of a confession to make. Maybe it's nothing. But I watched every episode of The O.C. when it came out. I found it endlessly fascinating and, as much as I might get made fun of, Seth Cohen's music taste rubbed off on me and I finally found my taste for indie music. I discovered The Killers, Modest Mouse, Death Cab for Cutie, and Phantom Planet from this show and I'll always love its quirky music choices.

The Chrismukkah album is a compilation of some great indie holiday songs (without any representatives for the -mukkah, sadly). Low's “Just Like Christmas” has gone on to be one of the most widely-used of the collection, but each of the nine songs have their own charm to them. It's one of the things that works with indie music—you can just add sleigh bells, add a line about Dec. 25, and call it a Christmas song. And it works!

Ron Sexsmith's “Maybe This Christmas” might be the best on the album, just for being so heartfelt and hopeful.

b) Chrismukkah episodes from The O.C.

Today marks the beginning of Chrismukkah, a celebration described as “eight days of presents followed by a day of many presents.” Ignoring any secular undertones of the holidays, this is how I think every December should should go. Who doesn't love more gifts?

The O.C. was always good about making their Chrismukkah episodes worthy of the holiday mash-up implied by the name. They were always simultaneously sad and joyous. Bad shit happened, but there was always a glimmer of hope by the end, that even in this crazy money-soaked town of Orange County where everyone is beautiful and there's never a shortage of drugs and entertainment, there's at least something to be happy about: family.

Aw, isn't that sweet?

I think everyone should celebrate Chrismukkah.

c) Boxing Day

Okay, seriously, what the fuck is Boxing Day? It's on every goddamn calendar I've ever seen, and yet not a single person I talk to can tell me what it is.

I mean, besides Canadians, or course, but what do they know?

Boxing Day is a holiday celebrated across the globe (in specific countries), but is widely associated with Canada. This causes many holiday experts to scratch their heads and wonder why it wasn't called “Hockey Day” instead.

I'd like to think that Boxing Day has something to do with all the boxes you're left with after the holidays. Maybe everyone is supposed to join their boxes together to form a giant box fort or something. I mean, I would totally support that holiday.

I would also support it if everyone just watched all the Rocky movies.

Or if I got money for it. That has nothing to do with boxes, but I'm broke as shit and could use another holiday that gives out cash.

On the Sixteenth Day of Christmas

a) “Let It Snow” by Her Space Holiday

Total reimaginings of traditional songs can end up with weird, unnerving, and downright offensive covers. No one needs to hear a 15-minute version of “Winter Wonderland” played entirely by sitars overlapped with the lyrics spoken in Pig Latin, a half-beat off. (But if anyone actually made that song, I would totally give it the benefit of the doubt and listen all the way through.)

Her Space Holiday has done some interesting and satisfying covers in the past—my favorite being a new take on Wolf Parade's “I'll Believe In Anything”—and their version of “Let It Snow” is certainly different, especially how it quickly morphs into a sing-chant of “All I Want For Christmas.” But I really like it. It's teeming with the joy of the holiday season and an attitude that “we can do anything with this song.” Cool beans, man.

b) National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation

Yes, I'm so glad that Chevy Chase thought Community was so beneath him, but a couple of quick Old Navy commercials reuniting some of the Christmas Vacation cast was a more acceptable brand of comedy.

Maybe I'm just bitter.

I really have nothing wrong with the movie itself. Sure, Chevy's kind of an ass now and Randy Quaid is crazy, but what comes between the title screen and the ending credits is a funny, enjoyable movie. The first time I saw this movie was in my ninth grade social studies class, the day before Christmas break. Since Mr. Russell didn't feel like teaching us anything about geography or government that day, we got to watch the movie how any high school shows a movie with cursing—the volume abruptly turned down at specific times to avoid tainting our virgin ears to the atrocities of profanity. That is, until one “shit” or “fuck” accidentally slips and the teach, feet propped up in the back of the room says, “Eh, you guys don't mind, do you?” We'll sheepishly confirm, so as to watch the movie, unedited, for the rest of class.

Oh, right, I haven't actually said anything about this movie yet. Well, using the Pledge of Allegiance as Christmas grace, electrocuting a cat, and lubing the bottom of a sled are exactly the kinds of gut-busting hilarity that make me wonder what the current National Lampoon staff thinks their doing.

“Van Wilder 5: College, uh... Something” should be out soon. Stoked!

This movie brims with quality and relatable Christmas humor and does it fantastically well. The dad who wants the best display on the block hits home with so many people. The grandparents who aren't quite there provide great lines while adding a subtext of cringing familiarity. And that sled scene might be over-the-top and cartoonish in ways that movies seem to be afraid of these days, but dammit if I didn't want to try it myself.

c) Ornaments

So now you've cut down a tree (or had someone do it for you). You've gotten into your house and propped up in your living room. It's not enough to just decorate this tree with strings of tiny colorful lights. No, you have to hang delicate glass balls and cheap souvenirish knick-knacks from the branches, too.

I don't understand the point of ornaments (pornaments, on the other hand...). Don't get me wrong, I get few greater joys than from decorating our tree every year, but it's one of those traditions I take part in without really knowing why (like crossing your fingers when lying or going to the dentist twice a year). Is there anything remotely religious about hanging official Harry Potter merchandise off of the tannenbaum? Would Santa Claus be offended by the evil depiction of him stuffing a child into his sack? (Both real ornaments on our tree this year, by the way.)

Who decided that a pine tree would make a good template for a hanging collage of family interests and pictures? It's true that you can tell a lot about a family from what's on their tree:

• Lots of macaroni ornaments = the kids were cute when they brought those home from school.
• Ornaments promoting five different beer brands = daddy has a bit of a problem.
• Tinsel = poor. Seriously, why even bother decorating the tree at all?

Well, our tree is packed this year and I wouldn't have it any other way. A full Christmas tree means a family full of love. And that Step-Aunt Marge couldn't think of anything to get the family five years in a row.

On the Fifteenth Day of Christmas

a) “It's Cliched to Be Cynical At Christmas” by Half Man Half Biscuit
This is a strange deep cut and I couldn't tell you how I found it. In a weird way, it's kind of beautiful in what it wants to accomplish. Christmas is such an easily misanthropic holiday, which its overabundance of joy and merriness. It's like, we get it! Go shove your candy cane up you-know-where.

Your ass, we mean.

This song, in 3/4 time (the most jolly of all time signatures), is saying, “Hey, Jack! What's with the blue Christmas here? Time to put away your pity party and have yourself a merry little Christmas.”

Also, it ends with “I Saw Three Ships.” I mean, c'mon, Debbie Downer!

b) How the Grinch Stole Christmas animated
It's nothing new to place the antagonist of the story in the foreground, making him/her the main character and following their every move. Sometimes we just want to understand evil. And sometimes it's just damn entertaining to watch (Yeah, Mr. White! Yeah, meth!).

But I'd like to think it was pretty bold for Dr. Seuss to write a book, let alone a book about Christmas, from the perspective of a holiday curmudgeon...

Okay, maybe the Grinch is just Scrooge covered in green fur, but who cares?

What I love about the original Grinch cartoon is its faithfulness to the source material, something that the live-action movie lacked (for good reasons, like time). Granted, a couple of songs were added, but “You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” has become a classic in its own right.

But what makes the Grinch's story so engrossing? Why is it considered one of the greatest Christmas specials of all-time? It could be the redemption of a truly evil creature who hates fun and good cheer. It could also be the creepy grin the Grinch gets when he gets a good idea (but hopefully not). It could be the fact that I will forever call roast beef “roast beast.”

There are a lot of things that the Grinch cartoon has going for it: a rhyming Karloff as our narrator/Grinch, a dog with an antler tied to its head, A DOG WITH AN ANTLER TIED TO ITS HEAD!

I'm sold, and you should be too.

c) Christmas break
Having graduated college this year (thank you! Thank you so much! I know...), the concept of Christmas Break is already becoming so foreign to me. You mean to tell me that there are people out there who get upwards of three weeks off from their main purpose in life?! To do what? Play Xbox?

What have they been doing all this time to deserve a break? Studying? Homework? Three jobs to sustain living in a decent apartment without getting the water shut off?

Lazy, all of them.

It really sucks coming to the realization that I no longer get a Christmas Break. All that time to shop last-minute, brush up on Guitar Hero, and never have a person to kiss when the New Year arrived. Man, those were the days! Now I have to work through the holidays?! Who invented this BS?!

Christmas Break was exactly like Summer Break—it seems to be over before it started, but now you're $200 more broke and you have a couple new sweaters that don't fit right. When people ask you what you did, usually you make something up, like “Yeah, we went to the Grand Canyon; my uncle has a cabin at the base. We saw like a bunch of bears and stuff. And I met Heidi Klum. And I guest-starred on How I Met Your Mother, but they might have to cut my scene, so you'll never see it.”

Yep, same here.

On the Fourteenth Day of Christmas

a) “2000 Miles” by Coldplay

“2000 Miles” isn't a Coldplay original, but to me it sounds like their early songs. It's kind of a bleak song, but like a lot of Coldplay tracks, it almost sounds hopeful, in a dark, snowy kind of way.   

Also, I know how you know that I'm gay.

b) "A Huey Freeman Christmas" from The Boondocks

The Boondocks has always been a show that knows exactly what it wants to do and then does it, savagely and hilariously. When the show took on BET, it went for the balls and squeezed tightly, depicting it as the most evil organization in the world. So when a dangerously satirical show like this takes on Christmas, you can expect it to be scathing, right? With lines like “Christmas is about how Santa died for our gifts and rose from the dead and moved to the North Pole and because of that, every year Santa comes down to forgive our sins and give us eternal presents,” you'd expect some cynical depiction of the holiday season.

Well, yes and no.

Huey's venture as writer/director of the school Christmas play, “The Adventures of Black Jesus,” is a way of debunking Christmas myths in a way I actually enjoyed. This may be because of how over-the-top the whole concept was, getting multi-million dollar black actors to star in an elementary school production. It also has some of the best lines, which are just as good out of context:

“You were just, 'Blah blah gay sex blah blah congress.' You've got to be interesting!”

“Don't look at Quincy Jones! Quincy Jones ain't gonna help you!”

But somehow the show finds a heart in its most deplorable character, Uncle Ruckus, who comforts young Jasmine when she hears that Santa isn't real. It may be twinged with Ruckusian racism, but it's a disarmingly sweet moment, which the show rarely gives us.

And now for the best scene:

c) Making Christmas lists

When I was growing up, my Christmas lists were dope. They were multi-page annotated masterpieces of consumerist craving. Santa Claus had no choice but to marvel at my zeal and professionalism. And, most importantly, they were really easy to make; I would go through countless Toys R Us catalogs, finding everything I just needneedneeded and then be done in twenty minutes, just enough time to make indestructible snow forts by the edge of the driveway.

Nowadays, I need at least a month of prep. I have to weigh every last option of what people might feasibly give me (adult toys are a lot more expensive than kid toys, it turns out). I have to give measurements (30/34 pants, extra room in the crotch if you know what I mean) and, almost as important, I have to include a list of what NOT to get me. (“For the love of God, if I get another pair of socks, I'm disowning you as a grandmother.”)

There's just so much pressure to get everything right on a Christmas list, like it's an essay question anymore. Becoming an adult takes the best part of making a Christmas list out of the equation: the element of surprise. Sure, my lists were always obsessively specific, but they were also just templates, a springboard for other ideas. I might not get this Spider-Man toy, but I'd get surprised with some other Spider-Man toy on Christmas Day, and I would be nowhere near disappointed. Now, if I don't write “new wallet,” I sure as shit am not getting a new wallet. What happened to knowing a person well enough to finding random gifts not-asked-for, but still right up their alley? Can I expect a Sonic the Hedgehog t-shirt this year? No, because it's not on my list—I just thought of it now—even though my entire family knows how much I love the speedy little blue guy. (I should probably go outside at some point...)

Christmas lists are one of my least favorite parts of the season. I find them confining and demanding. I WANT THESE THINGS, DAMMIT! MOTHER, FETCH ME THE NEW TAYLOR SWIFT RECORD! A little spontaneity never hurt anyone, right?

NEWS REPORT TOMORROW: Chris Slattery, stabbed to death after taking a new route to work.  

On the Thirteenth Day of Christmas

a) “A Very She & Him Christmas” by She & Him

I know Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward are from this generation, but every time I listen to a She & Him record, I'm transported to the 1950s (or some time that's old). This album sounds like it belongs in a collection with Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra to me, back when the holidays were swingin'.

One of my favorite tracks is also a lot of other people's least favorite: the cover of “Baby, It's Cold Outside.” Zooey takes the male-usual lyrics while M. does the female's. It's an interesting choice that does sound really unnatural coming from the nicest people in the world (why would you need to date rape anyone, Zooey? I'd go willingly).

Other than that, nothing especially stands out on the album, which isn't a bad thing by any means. It creates a good atmosphere to celebrate the season without being showing. That's appreciated.

b) “Chanukah” from Rugrats

Honestly, when I started this list, the only part of this episode that I remembered was Angelica saying, “It's Chanukah! You've gotta hgchkstchs when you say it.”

And then I watched it again and I realized that, even in my days of acting as a sponge, absorbing everything, I still didn't remember anything about the Rugrats' Hanukkah special. There are vague phrases that make sense, like the “meanie of Hanukkah,” but for the most part, it all seems foreign.

This is weird, though, because I remember watching this when it debuted, and then every year after (until I thought cartoons were juvenile: 2010), but nothing sticks. It's a good story and there are some funny one-liners from the babies, but seemingly the only reason I remembered to put it on this list—aside from Angelica's emphatic pronunciation—is the fact that Rugrats was a show that consciously made an effort to subvert the concept of a Christmas Special. It makes sense, considering that Tommy is half-Jewish, and I have to applaud the show for attempting to make the concept and history of Hanukkah kid-friendly.

c) Coal

So, let me get this straight; if I'm good, I get toys and candy by the sackful, but if I'm bad, I just get a couple pieces of coal? Is Santa fucking nuts?

No kid ever thought too much about it, but the fact that Santa punishes evil children with a sooty fuel source makes no damn sense at all. If we're looking for an alternative to presents, you'd think that Santa would just give the kid no presents. Instead, for all the little bastards around the world, St. Nick makes a conscious effort to leave them a warning sign, like a gang member.

“I was watching you, you little shit. This is for microwaving your sister's Barbie.”

Santa's a vindictive sonuvabitch, it turns out.

What I want to know is how many kids have actually received coal in their stocking. How many parents loathe their child enough to demonize the jolly Mr. Claus and give them uncrushed diamonds?

Hey, when you put it like that, it doesn't sound so bad...  

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas

a) “Merry Xmas Everybody” by Kate Nash
“Merry Xmas Everybody” is huge in England. It's like those fans that chant “Seven Nation Army” during football events in... well, England (football=soccer. Thanks, Green Street Hooligans!). Barely anyone in the States has heard of the song, which is a shame because it's actually a great, catchy festive rock song from Slade, just like the lesser-known Columbus Day hit from Night Ranger, “Bunny Bunny Bunny Bunny.”

Kate Nash, very British, covered the song for The A.V. Club (I've never heard of them...) a couple of years ago and I found it instantly charming. I only say this version is better than the original because she is cute and because it is better. Also, the bass strings are red, did you see that?!


Kate Nash covers "Merry X-Mas Everybody"

b) “Santa” from New Girl
Last night's episode of New Girl was a good episode. It wasn't the greatest of the season by any means and occasionally showed symptoms of overt formulaism. By the time the halfway mark rolled around, everyone was walking away from each other—Jess from Sam, Angie from Nick, Schmidt from Cece, a cranberry from Winston—and yet was all knew that they would resolve these problems by the end of the episode (except the cranberry). It's a Christmas episode, after all, and what is Christmas without spending it with the one you love?

And yet, like every episode of New Girl, I found myself laughing hysterically, and often. A lot of it was simple character stuff (like Nick trying out some stripper moves and Jess ducking behind her friends to avoid detection), but some of it was showing how holidays are celebrated New Girl-style. The fact that no one knows the lyrics to “O Come All Ye Faithful” or Schmidt attempting to figure out what CeCe celebrates this time of year (“Happy Moon Festival?”). It's just nice to see everything work out once in a while.

c) Candy canes
Candy canes are boss because I've noticed a sad lacking in the Candy Department for most major holidays (INTERCOM: “Slattery, Candy Dept. Line 2. Slattery, Candy Dept. Line 2...”). And what better way to celebrate the birth of our Lord than sugary sticks shaped like shepherds' hooks?

I've always wondered why, of all things, the candy cane became a symbol of Christmas. Sure, there are instances of sugarplums and gingerbread men in stories and casual conversation, but the candy cane has outshone all, year after year. I buy candy canes when I clearly don't need to, which—come to think of it—is ever.

Candy canes actually kind of suck as a treat. Half of them are already broken at the crook, and once you get past the shaft (giggle giggle), how is one expected to consume the curvy part? It's not exactly prime to suck on a fish hook of a sugar stick, let alone chewing on one, given that scientists have proven that candy cane residue can stick to a person's teeth for upwards of 10,000 years.

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas

a) “'tis the Season for Los Straitjackets” by Los Straitjackets
Where does surf music have no place? If you say Christmastime, fuck yourself. Christmas is actually a fantastic time for surf music.

Los Straitjackets' Christmas album sounds surprisingly at home in a collection of other festive records. It's all very silly, and the image of Santa hanging ten is hard to not imagine.

b) Arrested Development Christmas “In God We Trust” “Afternoon Delight”
Christmas pretty much takes a back seat in Arrested Development. Without lights set up in the dining room or event names like the “Christmas Pageant,” it would be impossible to tell what time of year it is in the O.C. (“Don't call it that...”).

But Arrested Development has always been family-oriented (in the plot, not in subject matter), which is a very Christmasy aspect. Granted, some of it is to an incestual degree, but there are still many instances of relatives coming through for each other. The friendship between Michael and Lindsay throughout “In God We Trust,” interrupted by their mother attempting to separate them feels very real and when they share their secrets over (I lost count) drinks, we see them as the closest members of the family, if only for this episode.

“Afternoon Delight” gets a little creepier when it comes familial relations. The titular song does not sound that dirty until you sing it to your niece. But the heart of the story comes from the Michael/George Michael dynamic. Instead of going to the Bluth Company's annual Christmas party, GM spends time with Yam (It's Ann...) and her family, whose Christmas party is celebrated on Bethlehem time (which I may or may not use as a legitimate excuse for being late form time to time). Fortunately he attends after he sneaks out during the second hour of silent prayer. A lot of other stuff happens—these are tightly-packed episodes—but it's all gold.

c) Cutting down trees

These past few years, my family has gone the route of pre-cut Christmas trees. Instead of the tradition of going out to a farm where pine trees grow like rows of prickly corn and cutting a tree down ourselves, we have invested in an already-dead one. Rather than spending hours in the frigid winds of Michigan winter, where the threat of hypothermia is only offset by the frustrations against other family members who would settle for just any ol' spruce with enough branches to cover the glaring bald spots, we found our last tree in twenty minutes and were on our way home.

See, I am very particular about which tree gets to warm up in our house each year and I get a special thrill from shopping the fucker down myself. Only the most pristine firs make the cut (so to speak) and it maddens me that some corporation thinks they can swoop in, deforest acres of miniature pine trees, and then attempt to sell them to me at 50 bucks a pop. You expect to take away the ritual of getting on my hands and knees in the wintery mud and feebly hack and saw for half an hour while the rest of the Slattery clan complains how cold it is until my arms feel as though I've Shakeweighted for ten days straight, and then ask me to be grateful?

Actually, you win. I'll take the Frasier Fir in the back there.