If you search YouTube for Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus,” you’ll discover countless versions, from the Mormon Tabernacle choir to smaller church singing groups. For me, though, nothing moves me more than a flash mob in the food court at the mall.
Although this video has been around for a number of years and although it enjoyed viral status, I find myself searching for this video all year long. There are so many layers that bring on my emotions: having this amazing sound in something as common as the mall, watching the passion of the performers (who took the time to do this) and the reactions of the shoppers (who paused during the hectic holiday prep time), and wishing that I could be somewhere just as a flash mob begins.
Without any further delay, here is the “Hallelujah Chorus.” Please, pass the Kleenex.
Because the following video is, well, boring — just a still image of the vinyl version of Pearl Bailey’s “Jingle Bells Cha-Cha” — I thought I would give you a story to go along with the music.
When I hear this song, I imagine myself working in an advertising agency, circa 1962, ala “Mad Men.” It’s the office Christmas party, and the typewriters are covered, mistletoe hangs in all of the most convenient of places, and Pete Campbell is spiking the punch to help make this shindig merrier and brighter.
I’m standing near the office window, when Peggy Olsen comes by to make some awkward holiday small talk. Her lips say, “Merry Christmas,” but her words mean, “How’s that Lucky Strike campaign coming along?” Someone should tell her this is a party — no work and all play.
Speaking of play, now would be a good time to start the music.
“Jingle Bells Cha-Cha” rolls from the hi-fi and I leave Peggy to ask Joan for a dance. I like Joan. She gets me and I get her. She knows she’s safe with me, because I’m not expecting anything in return — unlike Roger over in the corner, who’s glaring at me over his tumbler of Scotch, like we’re at an 8th grade dance and his girl is dancing with the guy who’s light in the loafers.
As Joan and I move and slide between the garland-draped secretaries’ desks, I can’t help but think that Joan, in her tight red skirt, is built for the cha-cha. My thought is validated by the stares she’s getting from the other ad men — and the dirty and jealous looks they’re giving me.
Just then, I catch a glimpse of Don Draper, looking as dapper as always. He looks a little nervous, though, as if he’s searching for something — probably the premiere of the next season of “Mad Men.”
Silly boy, he’s not going to find that gem until the spring.
In 1872, an American magazine, Scribner’s Monthly, requested a Christmas poem — and Christina Rossetti, a British poet, put ink to paper and wrote “In The Bleak Midwinter.” Music was added in 1906, and a hymn was born. That hymn has since become one of the most beautiful, as well as one of my all-time favorite, Christmas carols. Enjoy.
In honor of tonight’s lighting of the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree, what better carol than this Nat King Cole classic tribute to winter’s greenery. After all, this is a gardening blog.
Some performers will forever be associated with Christmas, and Andy Williams is one such performer. Enjoy this brief clip from a Christmas show from long ago.
In the previous post, “Caroling, Caroling Through The Month,” I mentioned the idea of posting a Christmas music video each day until Christmas arrives. After searching through the YouTube vaults, I think I’ve found an appropriate one to get the sounds of the season up and running.
This is Chanticleer singing “Angels We Have Heard On High.” A few years ago, Joe and I — along with our friends Cathey and Robert — were fortunate enough to see this all-male group perform their holiday concert at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art.
While this video may not show them performing, it does come with its own fireplace — a nice touch as the WordPress snow gently falls.
Now that Thanksgiving is over, I no longer have to feel guilty about listening to Christmas carols. I’m not referring to the holiday music played all day and all night by local radio stations. That’s a bit much — and I would rather be boiled in my own pudding, a stake of holly through my heart.
No, I like my own collection of Christmas music — music that I can listen to when I want and as often as I want — even if it’s in June or July. Sometimes, you just need some old fashioned, familiar merriment. Besides, it’s a great way to think cool thoughts during a heatwave.
While many aspects of the holiday season — like the coal-deserving behavior of many shoppers on Black Friday and the corporate leaders who opened their doors to do business on Thanksgiving, ala Scrooge & Marley — have left me feeling like a not-right-jolly-old-elf, Christmas carols remain at the top of my holiday list.
Baby, it’s cold outside. And for Joe and me, the cold temperature is our cue that it’s time to wrap our windmill palm for the winter months. So while we’re outside, I’m offering my seasonal repost of what it is that we’re doing and why.
I may be the gardener of the house, but Joe also has his landscape loves. One of his greatest is palm trees. His absolute fave is Cocos nucifera, the coconut palm. If it were up to him, coconut palms would be growing everywhere. We often joke that he would be to coconut palms what Johnny Appleseed was to apples — only he would be called Joey Coconuts, which does sound a little — alright, a lot — like a character from “The Sopranos.”
Sadly, coconut palms will not grow in our Zone. Nor will most other palms found around the world. So what’s a palm lover to do? About 10 years ago, we purchased a windmill palm, Trachycarpus fortunei to be exact, from Stokes Tropicals. Originally grown in China, the windmill is one of the hardiest of palms, able to tolerate a fairly severe freeze and a light winter snow cover.
But this is Long Island, and winters are unpredictable. Sometimes mild, sometimes snowy and frozen — and after the year we’ve had, who knows which winter will come our way. Although the palm receives full sun, there are steps that we must take — or rather Joe must take, with my assistance — to ensure winter survival.
Nitty Gritty Dirt Man 