My favorite Christmas song of all time goes to Nat King Cole's "A Christmas Song". The music and that voice.
The song makes me wish I was sitting by a warm fire, bourbon barrel aged stout in hand, preferably 6 months with maple syrup and chocolate, shawl collar cardigan in dark sable heather wrapped tightly over a merino wool salmon sweater finished with grey weekday warrior Bonobos pants, candy cane socks and a pair of brogue brown shoes while toasting to my beautiful sidekick Rose talking about memories past and future endeavors as our children sleep so perfect in bed.
The dimly lit room is masked by moving shadows as the burning fire leads this puppet show all over the walls. The paper snowflakes hanging above the mantle shimmer with fear from the wind of the fire as the embers get sucked up from above the chimney. And then it starts..
"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire" fills the room. That liquid, soothing voice, incandescent if you will, setting a magic spell on the room with every noise coming out of Mr Cole's mouth.
Rose and I stare into each others soul and toast to an amazing year and many more.
Then, like a white boy walking into a Kid n Play House Party, comes the words that sends screeches to a record halt.. Screeeeeeeeeeeech
"And so im offering this simple phrase
From kids to 1 to 92
All though it's been said many times
Merry Christmas to you"
What about 93 and up??
One of the greatest songs of all time is a categorized rehash of how perfect life is from 1 to 92. But apparently, in Nat King Cole's eyes (yes i know he didn't write it. Just go with it), if you are 93 or older life just sucks! You are no longer a kid and should not be wished a Merry Christmas. Blasphemy.
My Grandmother is 98. Yes, 98. This means for the last 6 years she has been blacklisted from this almost perfect song. Shame on you Mr Cole. Shame shame on you.
So to all reading this, I wish you a Merry Christmas. Unless you are over 92. Then I guess just have a good day or something.
(*to all under 92)