Today's post was planned well in advance of the unseasonably warm weather we're experiencing in the Shenandoah Valley. Who wants 70 degrees on February 19th anyway? Not me, I tell you. Not. Me. Not even for a short time. Winter is my favorite season, and I like winter to feel like winter. You know, Jack Frost nipping at your nose and all that jazz. So, I figured I could turn today's Countdown to 40 post about Christmas with A Charlie Brown Christmas into a protest of the spring-like weather.
As I established in my recent post about Home Alone, Christmas plays a large role in my sense of identity. It's my favorite holiday in my favorite season. No single pop-culture reference symbolizes that fact more perfectly than A Charlie Brown Christmas. I look forward to watching the television special each year, and of all the holiday music I listen to, Vince Guaraldi's soundtrack to the TV special takes billing as my absolute best-loved, and "Christmas Time Is Here" earns recognition as most beloved Christmas song of all-time. Added together, and A Charlie Brown Christmas equals a triple threat on my Countdown to 40 as a beloved television show featuring a beloved soundtrack with a beloved song. Growing up, my parents made A Charlie Brown Christmas an annual event, reminding my siblings and I when it was going to air on TV and being sure we all watched it together. I continued that tradition after leaving home, in college and well beyond into adulthood. To this day, I find something so nostalgically wonderful about the special and how it captures everything I love most about the holiday. It's as if Charles M. Schulz took all the potential upsides and all the potential downsides of Christmas and turned them into a story that speaks to adults every bit as much as it speaks to children. At an age younger than ten, I knew the story Linus shares when Charlie Brown asks whether or not anybody can tell him the meaning of Christmas. As an adult, however, I understand the story and all of its implications, not only in terms of the special's narrative but also in the grand scheme of life. What I'm left with every single time I see A Charlie Brown's Christmas is a profound sense of love, acceptance, and hope, and if that's not the message generally intended by Christmas itself, I do not know what is.
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Since Nat King Cole's classic holiday standard, "The Christmas Song," ended up at #25 on my Hot 101 countdown, pairing it with the classic holiday film, Home Alone, seemed only fitting. Interesting aside regarding the year of the movie's release, 1990. Several other notable reflections focus on pieces specifically tied to the very same year, namely "Escapade," Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation 1814, "Freedom! '90," Northern Exposure, "Nothing Compares 2 U," World Clique, and "Groove Is in the Heart." That this smattering of posts only covers the first fifteen days of my Countdown to 40, it stands to reason that a few additional 1990 relics may appear before the big day on March 12. The popularity of the year and its apparent influence on my taste in movies, television, and music also helps to explain my fondness for the entire decade, though I suspect my love for the 1990s relates more to my emotional and psychological stages of development than a sudden awareness of the pop-culture world around me. Enough pontificating on 1990, at least for now.
Much like my adoration for Janet Jackson, my love for Christmas and winter comes as no surprise to anyone. I proudly wear my Christmas-is-my-favorite-holiday badge twelve months a year. Drop by my office or jump in my car any day between August 1 and January 31, and you are likely to hear a few carols, both sacred and secular, emanating from the speakers, despite Bryce's (and the general population's) liturgically-based and fully justified disapproval. If it's November or December, you will only hear Christmas music in those two locations. Beyond that, you can catch me humming "Let It Snow" or "The Christmas Waltz" on any given day of the year. I giddily welcome snow between the months of November and April, using any measurable amount as an excuse to play my Pandora Classic Christmas radio station or sneak in a holiday-themed episode of one of my favorite television shows. Heck, I even remember when one of my best friends, Debbie, and I celebrated Christmas in July once during high school, complete with decorations, cutout cookies, festive music, and holiday movies. Clearly, my love for the December holiday borders on obsession, and I'm perfectly okay with that. Where did my obsession come from? For me, Christmas conjures up so many magical and wonderful memories that stretch back in time as far as I remember. To be clear, it does not at all revolve around gifts. Sure, when I was younger, presents elicited quite a bit of excitement and giving gifts has brought me a lot of pleasure as an adult. But my passion for Christmas completely comes from the feelings and nostalgia the holiday season recalls, like the crisp, cold Minnesota air and the twinkling night sky greeting me and my family as we left Grandma and Grandpa's house on Christmas Eve. The warmth of a crackling blaze in the fireplace. The peace, hope, and light promised by the message delivered at late-night church services. The meals and parties bringing together friends and family, some not seen in far too long. And the love, the love that abounds in every single memory. And what does Home Alone have to do with all of that? For one thing, the movie evokes many of the same feelings that make Christmas so special to me, particularly when Kevin wakes up on Christmas morning to a blanket of fresh snow and his family returning from a very short trip to Paris. For another, Home Alone arrived at precisely the right time in my life to leave an indelible mark. I had reached the age when my parents allowed me to see a movie with my friends and without requiring an adult chaperone, something I remember longing for. I was always in a hurry to grow up, connecting more with adults than the kids around me. I felt stymied by my age and therefore well beyond my years, ready for any experience or responsibility that made me more like an adult. When given the opportunity to see Home Alone without adult supervision, I did not hesitate for a minute to seize it. I proudly felt I had turned some major corner in the aging process. Today, I think back on my desire to grow up as quickly as possible and shake my head. What was I thinking? While I don't wish to go through adolescence and high school again, I long for the innocence, unbridled imagination, and wonder that accompanies childhood. In an attempt to hold on to as much of that as I can, I tend to identify myself as "still a kid" in many situations, whether it be through a video game, a book, a game of make-believe with nieces and nephews, or a movie. So, in addition to conveying the feelings of Christmas and symbolizing a stepping stone in my aging process, Home Alone also transports me right back to 1990, when I stood on the precipice straddling the awkward and confusing transition from child to adult. Plus, I've seen the movie so many times, I can pretty much quote it word-for-word. |
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I am a self-proclaimed pop culture geek and list enthusiast who is celebrating the big four-zero by counting down the most important, influential, and favorite music, movies, television shows, books, and video games of my life so far. Categories
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