Skip to main content

Christmas at 33 1/3


I've started listening to my Christmas vinyl--there's a lot of it. While I type this I'm actually listening to--and digitally ripping--the record you see above. I've had a copy for years, so long I don't even remember where I picked it up at (probably an antique store, sometime around 2002). I thought of this record when Andy Williams passed earlier this year, and I have no shame in admitting that I really like like "It's The Most Wonderful Time of The Year", which first debuted on this record (Released to the public in October of 1963).

Is this music/record "hip"? Well, I suppose most would say no. Sinatra is hip, Dean Martin is hip, Tony Bennett sure is. But Andy Williams? Hmm. I'm not saying it's bad, that it doesn't have merit, just that in the context of most modern music listeners, this isn't one they're apt to pull out and play. I'm sure they think of it as "grandma music." But I'm not your average modern music listener, and here's the other big thing--I really kinda like these kinds of records.

Sure, I'm eclectic  I listen to Frank Zappa to Frank Sinatra. I have the Ramones one shelf down from Miles Davis and Louie Armstrong. I have my Rolling Stones just a stone's throw away from Henry Mancini. I'm not saying you should rush out and buy up a bunch of copies of this, and I don't care if you like this or not. I'm just saying that for me, these records have merit. They're like putting on a nice, cozy, familiar sweater--despite that this record was first release some 22 years before my birth.

We live in an age when we're supposed to be moody, and bitter, and cynical. I have been at times, but I just try to enjoy life too much to fully give in. Some nights I just wanna slap some Andy Williams on the turntable. It's nothing I have to think too much about, just the thing to unwind with. I listen to Sinatra when I wanna feel confident, or think about women from my past. I listen to Esquivel when I want to feel quirky and whimsical  But I put on these old "adult pop" albums, when I just wanna relax, and be myself without giving a damn what anyone else thinks.

I like Andy Williams, and I like his Christmas record.

So what?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Convincing Yourself You're Good.

I have Imposter Syndrome. Imposter Syndrome is that feeling that what you do isn't good enough, and that someone is gonna eventually figure out how woefully unqualified you are and kick you to the curb. One of the traits of my personality that I dislike is that I am way too hard on myself. Seriously, give my mind an inch and I will somehow figure out that I am the sole person responsible for the world's troubles.

Having Imposter Syndrome is kind of like playing the game Werewolf. My friends and I play a version of the game called One Night Ultimate Werewolf, in the game each player picks a card that gives them a specific role, either a villager or a werewolf, and the villagers all have distinct roles that they play on top of that--special abilities and the like. The object of the game is two fold, if you're a werewolf, you don't wanna be caught. If you're a village, you wanna catch the werewolves. Imposter Syndrome makes you feel like you're always in the role…

Where The Blues Are

I come to you again this week with another pair of blu-rays from those master celluloid handlers at Warner Archive. First up we have 1960’s “Where The Boys Are,” a defining teen picture of the era by MGM, and the film largely responsible for kicking off the whole cycle of 1960s beach films. The other is 1955’s “Pete Kelly’s Blues” a film starring, produced, and directed by Jack Webb--TV’s Joe Friday. Part of a deal Webb had made with Warner Brothers when he was setting up the original big screen version of “Dragnet” in the ‘50s. 
“Where The Boys Are” was set for the screen before the book it was based on had been released. Producer Joe Pasternak snatched up the rights to the book by Glendon Swarthout, which was originally titled “Unholy Spring.” Pasternak, strongly feeling “Where The Boys Are” would be the better title, persuaded Swarthout to change the book’s title. Pasternak also felt he could use the film as a starring vehicle for one of the stars of MGM’s record label, Connie Franc…

Twelve-Nine-Three

Picture it! Scilly, 1922! OK, actually Andy Ross’s Childhood Bedroom 1993. I had been given as a gift the dream attachment for my beloved Sega Genesis, the amazing Sega CD. For those of you young children who have only grown up in the era of XBox and Playstation, it may seem strange that there was once a time when the idea of playing a video game off of a compact disc was mind blowing. But it was, and I was fully ready to have my mind blown. To use a slogan of Sega’s ads of the era, I was ready to enter “The Next Level.”

The Sega CD model I had was the second one, the smaller model designed to go with the slimmer Genesis that had been introduced to the market. I had the first Genesis, the larger one, but the Sega CD came with an extension block that allowed it to partner it on the original model. You attached the Sega CD to your Genesis by a special connector on the side of system. The Sega CD came with a game to get you going, as was the norm with gaming systems at the time. The game …