I’ve always been kinda nutty for Christmas. For example when other 16 year old kids were out ignoring their morals, testing the limits of their decision making skills and having their ICQ histories scanned by parentals for deceitful weekend plans, I was convincing my parents to put up not one, not two, but three Christmas trees in my house (Please know that I wish this was me bragging). Two of them were real, one of them was fake … but these are minor details, I assure you.
Now that I’m older and all grown up I can appreciate that I must have driven my parents nuts with my high flying demands, but I wouldn’t say I’ve curbed it back by any means:
Two weeks ago I came home with over 20 feet of live spruce garland. I don’t have a car so toted it home in a body-bag-esque garbage bag on the city bus. Kinda looked and smelled like I had axe-murdered a pine shrub.
It now adorns my stairway (lovely), but I will admit that I might have got it just a tad early … ya, just a bit too early. I’m afraid it may not make it to Christmas at this point if the needles I’m sweeping up everyday are any indication. Jimminy Christmas I hope that’s not the case as I’m not sure how my delicate Christmas heart would handle it. No worries, I’ve been spritzing the entire 20 feet diligently two-three times a day.
Before there was this year’s tree fiasco, or the garland on the bus, or the not one, not two but three trees during my 16th year, I found a special way to say Merry Christmas to my grade 4 class:
We love the Boney M in my family and the Christmas Album has been a staple for as long as I can remember come December 1. Here’s what the cover of the LP looks like:
So clearly I got to know the Boney M Christmas hits over the years and it is no wonder that by the time I was nine, I had the words to Petit Papa Noel through Zion’s Daughter committed firmly to memory. Just how much did I love the music you ask? I loved the music and their message so much so that I wanted to share it.
So picture for me if you will, a version of my 9 year old self, clad in pink corduroy pants and a Christmas turtle neck (yes, I can remember clearly what I was wearing) standing up in front of my grade four class. I then proceed to give them “my Christmas present.” It was my own a Capella rendition of Feliz Navidad sung island style (because after all, is there any other way to sing it?). In my heart, I was giving my grade four cohort what I thought was a wonderful Christmas gift. Tone deaf and hands clasped “a la Sound-of-Music-Von-Trap”, I ask you to tell me, what better way is there to say, “I wish you a merry Christmas?”
I wonder if I was too into “my gift” to notice my teacher leaving the room to keep from laughing. If she stayed, she must have been one strong woman.
And that, my friends, is how much I love Christmas. I should win some sort of award or something for such a display.
Now go and listen to Boney M singing Feliz Navidad – it’s nothing like the version I do but it will have to suffice until they allow me the rights.