Cycles Of Emotion

Got a different perspective on Christmas.

Specifically Christmas carols.

I have been examining my reaction to these songs. I get a gut feeling, an immediate reaction to the real Christmas carols.

Not the Rudolphs, not the Jingle Bells, not the Frostys.

The real songs. The soaring, majestic ones that inspire reflection.

Call it melancholia, call it mild despair, call it insanity. It is not a happy feeling. It is a deeply emotional feeling. A thoughtful emotion. A longing.

By the way, and you have heard me rage about this before, I must also dismiss "Wonderful Christmastime" by Paul McCartney.

Here you have two creative geniuses. John Lennon and Paul McCartney. McCartney writes "Wonderful Christmastime." Lennon writes "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)."

Paul's song is sappy and simplistic. Unworthy of his creative powers.

John's song is reflective and challenging. I don't like the political correctness of the title, though. Although knowing John personally as I do, he was probably attempting to make the message all inclusive.

Anyway, his song encourages you to take a look at the past year of your life. What have you done? His good wishes go out to all people and all races. He has the balls to suggest that war could end, if you want it. He wishes you a happy new year and hopes it's a good one without any fear.

Listening to an all Christmas song station on the radio in the Big Ride the other day. They played "Wonderful Christmastime" and followed that immediately with "The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)."

I found that quite appropriate.

But I digress.

Visiting Sarge last Sunday and Christmas carolers stalked the halls. At first I thought "Oh, Christ, here we go."

Until they got close to us. Remember the elderly lady who kept us company? The one who rooted for the team in the yellow pants?

Her eyes lit up as the carolers approached. I was watching her. Her eyes lit up in pure joy. It meant something to her. It meant a lot to her.

It was so good to see happiness spread across her face.

The carolers handed out homemade Christmas cards to the residents. Cards created by the children in the group.

She was thrilled to get hers. She thanked the kid from her heart. She was so excited to show it to us.

Sarge even sang a bit, along with the carolers.

It meant something to him too.

As I continue to dissect my relationship with Christmas carols, it is comforting to know the magical effect they can have.

Carol erected our Christmas tree last Saturday as I worked. I don't know how she did it alone. She wrestled its massiveness into Christmas solace.

I was meditating on the lights the other night. Wondering if my reaction to them is as a child with no previous experience. An infant mesmerized by the lights.

I don't think so, though. Because they inspire the same reaction in me as do real Christmas songs.

And the wheel goes 'round and 'round.