I’m heading out for Christmas break soon, and I should probably leave some message here in case the airplane I’m on sprouts a leak and I am sucked out of the cabin like a string of link sausages, and then ingested into the engine, because I mean, who can resist sausages?
I should probably share something festive. Something really Christmassy. A personal Christmas memory.
Okay, well, here is my favorite Christmas album:
Now, some purists would claim that Van Halen Fair Warning is NOT technically a Christmas record, but that’s only because those people were not given this album for Christmas like I was back in 1981. I still remember sitting by the tree on Christmas morning, listening to the opening riff of “Mean Street.” Until my sisters came down stairs and kicked me off the record player so they could listen to REO Speedwagon. Whatever.
Anyway, my point is that Christmas memories are personal, and no one can explain why some things are meaningful to them. Like those really ugly ornaments you had on your tree when you were growing up that suddenly were not there one year, and you said to your mom, “Mom, why haven’t you put up the pipe-cleaner elves yet?” And your mom said, “Oh, I threw those ugly things away!” And you said, “How could you do that!? You’re a terrible mother!” And she said, “Oh yeah, that’s another thing. I’m not really your mother.” Remember those? The ones with the glitter?
So, in summary: Most people will tell you that you only need to listen to the first two—and maybe the third Van Halen album—but I think Fair Warning is really good, because I got it for Christmas.