christmas special

irving berlin wrote "white christmas" while sitting by a pool in phoenix, arizona--it has been recorded more times than any other american pop song in history. according to my extensive research (on wikipedia) "it has often been noted that the mix of melancholy — "just like the ones I used to know" — with comforting images of home — "where the treetops glisten" — resonated especially strongly with listeners."

there you go--the numbers indicate that christmas resonates of melancholy and comfort to the general public. but we already knew that, didn't we? think about the words to "god rest ye, merry gentlemen." when i was a small child, that song really bothered me, with its minor key and words like "dismay" and "darkness." i hid when the christmas album reached that track, because the song scared me.

"white christmas" reached its record peak of popularity at a time when a subtler reminder sufficed that christmas really is a season of melancholy, even if you're not in the midst of war. it's the end of the year. it's cold. we expect ourselves to perform more duties and spend more money in six weeks than in the whole rest of a normal year.

nonetheless, there is comfort, sometimes natural and sometimes manufactured. the earth's dormant season is the growth spurt of nostalgia, of a general expectation of cheer and gratitude and generosity, of value placed on virtues that get less airplay during the rest of the year. at this time, as at no other time, we prefer the feelings of others. we welcome the nasty family members into our homes. we put on the ugliest sweaters because an elderly relative knitted them.

christmastime is life as a cartoon. every hurt throbs, every joy is like a catapult, and it lasts for about five minutes.