A little Christmas cheer

by Lorin Michel Sunday, December 6, 2015 7:37 PM

Yesterday, I officially began decorating for Christmas. I’ve been wanting to do it for a while, but I don’t like to do it until Thanksgiving weekend, and last weekend we were away. So yesterday, I pulled out the two boxes that held our new, as-yet-unseen Christmas tree and started spreading the cheer.

For years, we’ve had an artificial tree. I bought it when Justin was in high school and worked at a place called Do It Center. It’s a smaller, more civilized version of Home Depot, much like Ace Hardware but not as complete. I got a discount because my kid worked there and they had a pretty decent selection of Christmas trees. We always had real trees. Both Kevin and I grew up when getting the Christmas tree was an annual family pilgrimage. We didn’t traipse off into the forest like they did on The Waltons. We went to a Christmas tree farm. They have Christmas tree farms in California, too. It’s a little strange the first time you visit one if you’ve grown up in the Midwest or North East. Searching for and cutting down a tree in shorts and a tee-shirt? Who knew that pine needles could be so itchy.

The year I bought the artificial tree was the year Kevin was doing his best Ebenezer Scrooge impersonation. I have no idea what set him off but he was grumpy “as all get out” (a phrase he loves to use) and wouldn’t go with me to get a real tree. I wanted to start Christmas. I love Christmas. So I said “fine,” the kiss-my-ass kind of fine, and off I went to Do It Center where I picked out a very nice six-foot unlit tree. It came in one box. I brought it home, and proceeded to set it up. Artificial trees are actually very easy to set up and look pretty real. The biggest issue was fluffing out the branches, especially the first time one sets up a tree out of a box. The branches are all mashed; all stuck together. They have to be unfurled in order to make the tree look full.

We had vaulted ceilings in the Oak Park house so Mr. Scrooge eventually built me a platform so that we could raise the tree up about two feet. It also gave us more floor space since the house wasn’t very big. It was a good system and worked for years, including last year.

But this year, in the new house, we have 18-foot ceilings through out. The house is an open floor plan. Even on a two-foot platform, the Do It Center tree would be dwarfed. It would look like a shrub. So last year, right after Christmas, I went online and started researching taller trees. I figured it was a good time to get a good deal and I was right. 

I did a bunch of research. I wanted one that was tall, but not all the way to the ceiling. I didn’t want one that was too fat – normally the taller the tree, the wider it becomes – but I didn’t want it to take over the room. I wanted it to have presence without being the only presence. I chose what was labeled a narrow fir. It’s about 12’ high. Fits perfectly into the corner of the great room, nestled between two walls of glass. I put it up last night. It took hours. There are six parts, from two boxes, that needed to be connected, from the base to the top. Then all of the branches needed to be unfurled. The tree is so tall the base is on wheels. 

Christmas decorating has officially begun now in earnest. The tree is up, with lights. I have to find the ornaments. My beautiful Karen Didion Santa that Kevin bought years ago is on the hearth, my much smaller Fabriché Santa is on the couch table, and the big Santa that my mom and sister got me years ago, who is the height of a small child, is standing near the tree. 

Tonight, the Byers Choice Carolers come out. Christmas has come to the hill and I’m cheering it out loud.

At the corner of Stockton and O’Farrell

by Lorin Michel Tuesday, February 17, 2015 8:57 PM

The city of San Francisco is built on a hill so that it often appears to be rising out of the fog. Its streets are steep and treacherous, its people all seeming to still have a bit of the Haight inside. The Haight is Haight-Ashbury, the notorious drug scene at the intersection of the 1960s and 70s. It’s a liberal bastion, this city, but also historical and stunning. Situated on the Bay across from its nastier cousin Oakland, San Francisco is home to high finance and technology, rich cultures of art and food, and the fog. The north shore of the city, in Pacific Heights, is where the famed Fisherman’s Wharf is. Fresh seafood comes in daily and it is exquisite. Off the coast and to the east is Treasure Island, to the west is the famed Alcatraz prison, now a tourist spot. Further still to the west is the arching Golden Gate, crossing the entrance to the Pacific.

In the middle, tucked between highways 80 and 101, on the Bay side, is Union Square, one of the world’s premier shopping districts with a huge collection of retail stores, boutiques, art galleries, restaurants, and salons. And in the middle of Union Square, near where the cable cars run, at the corner of Stockton and O’Farrell is a Macy’s Department Store. To most, it’s a typical Macy’s, with numerous floors filled with fairly nice merchandise for women, men and children. There are shoes and jewelry and perfume counters. There is makeup and skin care. It’s a nice store, and it definitely occupies prime real estate in the area that first came to be known because of the pro-Union rallies held before and during the Civil War.

At Christmas time, it is decorated like all department stores. Santa has a North Pole office where he sees children. And it has the most glorious window displays in the country, at least to me.

Now I realize there are still 310 days until Christmas, according to the Christmas clock but I’m already counting and here’s why: dogs and cats, puppies and kittens.

For the past 28 years (this will be the 29th annual), the Macy’s holiday windows for the Christmas season feature homeless animals who need to be adopted. Each year, for nearly three decades, the Union Square Macy’s teams up with the San Francisco Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA) to feature dogs, puppies, cats and kittens at play and taking well-deserved naps in holiday-themed windows. Each year the theme changes, but the windows always incorporate animals. The spaces are temperature controlled and safe, and give plenty of opportunity for window watchers to watch. SPCA volunteers are also on hand to answer any questions, and to monitor the hopeful pets. They’re also rotated frequently. Any animal not adopted during the day goes back to their bed at the no-kill shelter for the night.

The tradition began in 1986 when Gump’s Department Store was the first to offer pet adoptions at the holidays. Soon after Macy’s – the flagship store of Macy’s West and in San Francisco since 1866 – and the SPCA began teaming up for the holidays. To date, they’ve adopted more than 4,000 animals, 343 last year alone. They also raised over $100,000 in donations. The long-term goal is to generate enough support and education to help end animal abandonment in the city by 2020.

I didn’t know any of this until today when I stumbled on the story. I love San Francisco – it’s one of my top two cities in the country, along with Chicago – but when Kevin and I go, we don’t tend to do a lot of shopping. Instead, we walk and we go to galleries and great restaurants. Knowing this about Macy’s makes me want to shop there. The fact that it’s one of my favorite places in the country is also a plus. Maybe next year at Christmas, you’ll find us at the corner of Stockton and O’Farrell. Maybe we should book our trip now. After all, there are only 310 days left.

Feliz Navidad

by Lorin Michel Tuesday, December 24, 2013 10:02 PM

Spending our first holiday season in the Old Pueblo has introduced us to a number of new festivities. There was the snow at La Encantada, blasted out of mini snow machines at 6 and 6:45 on Friday and Saturday nights as carolers sang below. It was actually very Christmasy, and certainly cold enough for snow. That’s something we had not expected in our move from Southern California. It gets cold there, to be sure, but it seems colder here in the desert. I’ve spent the last weeks bundled up even in the house. The night we went to La Encantada for snow, we had to duck into a local restaurant and sit next to their fire so I could get warm. It felt very much like the holidays.

The spectacle that is Winterhaven is quite something. This is a neighborhood not far from here where they’ve had an annual Festival of Lights every year since 1949 when a man named CB Richards created the small residential area. It was Mr. Richards who purchased the first lights used in the first festival. He also purchased the Aleppo pine trees that line the neighborhood, quite out of place in the desert, except during the Christmas season when the temperatures often curl around 30 degrees. There are electrical connections near each tree so that hundreds of thousands of white, red, blue and green lights can blaze beautifully, in the trees and on the houses. Those lights have shown brightly every year save one, during the energy crunch in the 1970s. It’s a stunning display and something Kevin and I had never experienced before moving here. What’s even better is that cars are only allowed on three nights, and two of those are after Christmas.

The Festival is free but the residents request a donation of canned food. In 2012, they raised nearly $21,000 and offered approximately 34,000 pounds of food to the local food bank.

Many homes outside of Winterhaven also decorate for the season. As newcomers we wondered if somehow the Dark Skies Ordnance, which dictates there be no bright lights at night, including street lights, would preclude people from putting lights on their houses and dancing reindeer in their front yards. We needn’t have wondered. Many trim their homes in lights, and wire-framed reindeer graze merrily. Luminarias are also plentiful. These candlelit brown paper bags are also called farolitos, meaning little lanterns, which according to my research may or may not be the correct term. The tradition of using these small lanterns first began in the 16th century as a way to light the way toward Midnight Mass on the final night of Las Posadas, a reenactment of the story of Mary and Joseph and their search for an inn in Bethlehem.

I’ve long loved the look of luminarias. In the past, paper bags were filled with sand and a candle was placed inside. Today, there are electric luminarias, undoubtedly safer and easier, though not quite as eerily beautiful, with the live flame contained and dancing inside the bag.

Experiencing the holiday season in Tucson has been one of wonder and joy, an adventure in finding the right coat to wear. For 25 plus years, our Christmases were spent in Los Angeles. While we didn’t have family there we did have our closest friends, our chosen family. We would all gather for Christmas dinner; the day after would be spent wine tasting in Santa Barbara county. It’s hard to move to a new area and I worried about the holidays especially. I wondered if we would be lonely, if we’d find new traditions. What we’ve found is a city alive with spirit, and color, and lights, and that this season – my favorite – is bursting with local traditions, new to us, perhaps to others as well. From light festivals like Winterhaven to the historic Arizona Inn, where 2500 tiny lights are strung on a 16 foot tree that’s then decorated with glass, wooden Santas, colored tin ornaments from Mexico, white doves and more we have found music, snow, theatre and Tucsonans making merry.

We have a tree in our new home, my Byer’s Choice Carolers collection, and a simple wreath on our front door, one with white lights and flocked snow. At night, it illuminates the drive and lights our way.

Each evening, when the temperatures drop and Christmas lights blaze to life, the new traditions present themselves readily. We put on a heavy coat and a scarf, gloves for our hands, and with our beloved Cooper in tow, off we go to walk through our local neighborhoods, breathing in our new city and its festivities. We find ourselves marveling at the decorations, listening to the sounds of children playing and dogs barking, of shoppers rushing to and fro. We’re at home here – we’ve come home – and we’re embracing our new lives in the Old Pueblo. Feliz Navidad indeed.

The celebration of sadness, and joy, in A Charlie Brown Christmas

by Lorin Michel Wednesday, December 11, 2013 11:30 PM

A Charlie Brown Christmas first premiered on December 9, 1965. Evidently the executives at CBS, where the show first aired, saw a rough cut in November of that year and hated it. It was slow, there was no laugh track, the characters were voiced by real children rather than adult voice actors, and the score was way too jazzy. They were also very concerned that Linus told the story of Christmas from the Gospel of Luke. Too religious. They were sure they had ruined the idea of Charlie Brown forever.

The show premiered on that fateful Thursday, and it was watched by nearly 50% of the people watching television that night, about 15 million homes. It was second in ratings only to Bonanza. That horrible score by jazz pianist Vince Guaraldi has since become one of the most popular Christmas recordings ever. Each year when the show airs, on different networks now, it still draws huge audiences. It aired this year on December 2, and will air again on December 19. 7.1 million people watched it on December 2nd. For a broadcast that is 48 years old, that’s impressive.

I am a sucker for A Charlie Brown Christmas and not just because of the music, though the soundtrack remains one of my favorites. I think I like it because it seems to celebrate both sadness and joy, something profound for adults let alone children. Yes, it’s obviously about the commercialization of Christmas, something that has done nothing but increase since the show first aired in 1965. In the first showing, Coca Cola was a prominent sponsor. According to some, it was a Coke advertising executive who first suggested doing a Peanuts Christmas special. Naturally it would have to have something about Coke as a reference. When the show first aired and Snoopy tossed Linus out of the skating rink, Linus landed against a Coca Cola sign. The sponsorship references were later removed. The special now airs free of any reference to any product whatsoever.

Poor Charlie Brown, ever the pessimist, can’t get into the spirit of Christmas and no matter what he does, from looking into his mailbox for Christmas cards to watching Snoopy decorate his doghouse for a contest to directing the school pageant, he’s miserable. He goes to get a Christmas tree and gets the smallest, most pathetic tree on the lot, with about five needles on its five branches. The kids laugh at him, call him a blockhead, and leave him to wonder if he has any idea what Christmas is really all about.

Cue Linus, who recounts the story about the shepherds and God bringing them tidings of great joy. This cheers our intrepid hero who picks up his tree, and goes home to discover that Snoopy’s overly decorated and gaudy doghouse has won first place. He takes an ornament and hangs it on the tree, which promptly tips over. Even more distraught, Charlie Brown walks away dejected. The other Peanuts kids find it, decorate it and suddenly it’s a lovely little tree, full of hope and promise and joy and the spirit of seeing goodness in all things, in all people.

I don’t know if that’s the ultimate message. It always has been to me. There is a sadness that can permeate the season, when we’re missing those we’ve lost, those closest to us and separated by miles and a country. There is also the sadness of expectations, most of which are overblown. Expectations are things we put on ourselves. Sometimes they’re legitimate, but sometimes they’re based on something that never existed to begin with. Normal Rockwell comes to mind. He painted a picture of a big family celebrating Christmas together and it was somehow deemed that everyone must celebrate accordingly or their Christmas was wrong.

Christmas is what we make it. Some choose to celebrate, some do not. Some spend it with family, some with friends. Sometimes the gatherings are big, something they’re small. The point is to celebrate together; to celebrate the goodness and joy.

As for Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree, I think it’s a metaphor. Things may look bleak and doomed, but with a few well-placed lights and ornaments, life begins to look brighter. A Charlie Brown Christmas celebrates sadness without condemning it, and it welcomes joy without exploiting it. Sadness and joy intermingle like two exquisite flavors of the same dish to create what is ultimately Christmas. That’s why I love this holiday classic. It clearly states the meaning of Christmas between friends and family, sharing, arguing, enjoying. It has nothing to do with the Gospel of Luke and everything to do with us mere mortals, down here on the planet, together, even when apart; together always. 

In which I commence Christmas shopping

by Lorin Michel Monday, November 11, 2013 10:55 PM

I am a bona fide lover of Christmas. Each year I look forward to the decking of halls and the jingling of bells. I especially love Christmas music. Beginning in late October, right around the time the time changes and the days become lukewarm, the nights nearly cold, I start thinking about when it is permissible to begin playing tunes foretelling good tidings and joy. It is an ongoing discussion in our house with the two men in my life declaring, almost every year, that the day after Thanksgiving is the accepted day. At that point, I am allowed to play Christmas and holiday music as often as I want. I do.

This is a dilemma because of the aforementioned end of October. Truth be told, I have already broken protocol. Just last week, when it was cool and cloudy, I put Winterscapes on live365. I kept it very low so that only Cooper and I could partake in its haunting, Celtic type music. I was trying to get into the spirit.

Usually by this time of year I have secured a number of Christmas presents but this year, for whatever reason, inspiration has escaped me. I have a list for Kevin that only includes three things. Justin has yet to supply us with what he wishes Santa would deliver. I haven’t received anything from my sister as to what the kids are dreaming about finding under the tree. Granted, I haven’t yet asked, but I will.

And then November happened. With it came the avalanche of Christmas-themed commercials. Kmart, which I didn’t even know was still in business, has been busy hyping its layaway program. It won’t be long before my favorite ads commence. Each year I look forward to the Budweiser commercials that look like an animated Currier & Ives Christmas card of old come to life. There are no words spoken, simply the jingle of bells, the low coo of carolers in harmony, and the majestic Clydesdales. They may already be running and I just haven’t seen them yet.

Last week, I was surfing as I so often do and came across an idea for Kevin that wasn’t on the list. I bought it and felt immediate accomplishment. It was something small, something I hadn’t even thought of, didn’t even know about. I doubt he knows about it either. But it allowed me to dip a toe into the shopping waters.

I am not a mall shopper. In fact, my motto for years has been if I can’t find it online, I probably don’t need to buy it. Granted there are usually some items that require a physical trip to the store, items that need to be touched and held; items that are often in specialty gift and boutique stores. One-of-a-kind items I don’t know exist until I see them. But most of my shopping occurs via the internet. I frequent Amazon; I spend time on Ebay. Ebay has changed to be mostly an online swap meet of sorts. Once upon a time, it offered an incredible shopping experience especially where antiques were concerned. One-of-a-kind items for equally special people. I bought a World War I compass for my husband on Ebay; he has purchased many of my first edition Byers’ Choice Carolers on Ebay.

Last night, I was able to find something on Ebay and immediately put in a bid. It’s an antique item that was actually on my Kevin list this year. I was very pleased to have found it; I was thrilled to officially commence with my shopping. Now it’s time to start viewing my favorite holiday movies (any version of A Christmas Carol I can find; Die Hard 1 and 2; Lethal Weapon). I’ll be firing up Winterscapes again and I’ll be turning up the volume proudly. The season has begun. Let’s celebrate the ho-ho.

Chilling out

by Lorin Michel Thursday, October 31, 2013 12:16 AM

This morning I woke up with a headache. I think it came from the window being open all night and the cold air stuffing up my nose and my head. Kevin was already up and Cooper had taken up residence on his side of the bed. I listened to the sound of the city, the cars rushing by out on Campbell, swooshing air, invisibly filling the room. The wind had already come up, the palm tree fronds were rustling. I could see the pink of the flowers just outside the window. Cooper stretched. I shivered. I reached for my phone, always next to the bed, and hit the weather button. 52º. I shivered again because I’m always cold. When it’s 72º, much like Sally Albright in When Harry Met Sally, I’m still cold.

The entire day stayed cool, never getting above 65º which I realize for folks on the East, is not cool and is in fact just the opposite. But 65º and breezy is cool here in the West. I actually had a sweatshirt on today over my shorts.

The whole week is supposed to be like this. Cold nights and cool days. The sun stays warm but never warm enough to heat up the day. I love this time of year. This is what fall is like here and while fall is over in the East, all the leaves having fallen to the ground where they were raked up and burned, fall in the desert consists of simply lower temperatures, brighter mornings and earlier evenings that are exceptionally dark.

I chilled out all day in my sweatshirt. I worked but it was a quiet day. Few phone calls, few emails. Lots to do but when it’s quiet it’s easy to push everything aside and concentrate on more fun things, like thinking about the holidays and gifts to buy. We’ll have a houseful for Thanksgiving this year and we are excited. Justin will be home, Roy and Bobbi are coming, as are Diane and Gene. Perhaps Justin will scare up a friend.

Bobbi and I talked today about reviving our Christmas card franchise. Years ago, in the early 1990s, Roy, Bobbi and I would do hand-made Christmas cards for all of our friends, family and co-workers. We would come up with a concept. I would write a story or a poem, Roy would illustrate it, Bobbi would design it and we would have it printed. We’d spend hours over several weekends assembling cards and preparing them to send. Each year people looked forward to those cards; many still have what we did long ago. There was a children’s book about a tree and a star; a carousel poem that took the form of a scroll. There were many cut-out mobiles that people would hang and leave up year round. We haven’t done one since the late 90s. But we’re thinking of doing one this year. We’re going to brainstorm this weekend to come up with a concept. I’ll write, Roy will illustrate, Bobbi will design and Kevin will program it online.

As the weather turns, these are the things that travel through my mind. Creative thoughts and ideas for gifts and cards. What to cook this year for Thanksgiving; what we’ll do for Christmas. When it will be cold enough to wear jeans all day and big fuzzy socks at night in front of the fire sipping wine, watching old movies on TMC. I need nothing more than the change of seasons to settle my soul.

During the Tang Dynasty, a poet by the name of Han Shan, which translates to Cold Mountain, wrote: “Swiftly the springs and autumns pass, but my mind is at peace, free from dust or delusion. How pleasant, to know I need nothing to lean on, to be still as the waters of the autumn river!”

It’s falling toward winter, even here in the West where it will dip down to the low 40s tonight, and I’m celebrating the idea of chilling out.

The first time I heard jazz

by Lorin Michel Sunday, November 25, 2012 8:35 PM

On December 9, 1965, an animated TV special aired for the first time, on the CBS network. I was watching it though I’m fairly sure I don’t remember it, not from that date, as I was only 4. It was to my great fortune – and the fortune of others all over the country – that it continued (and continues) to air every year following. It was A Charlie Brown Christmas, the first time the Peanuts comic strip had been given over to animation, and it has become a perennial favorite. I’ve always loved it but not because of its message of peace on earth or goodwill to men. While that’s lovely, and it is delivered in a most appropriate fashion by Linus and his blanket, what I love most is the music. I can’t help but wonder if my consistent and continuing love of jazz had something to do with the first time I saw and listened to that wondrous 25 minutes.

The music was composed by Vince Guaraldi, a jazz pianist who first recorded with the Latin jazz musician Cal Tjader in 1953. By 1959, he was out on his own. He was a well-respected musician, but not necessarily a big name until he released Jazz Impressions of Black Orpheus. A song called Samba de Orpheus, featured on the French film Black Orpheus, was released as a single and was largely ignored. But then disc jockeys started playing the B-side, Cast Your Fate to the Wind, and Guaraldi officially arrived. When Lee Mendelson, the producer of A Charlie Brown Christmas, heard the song while crossing the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, he knew what he wanted for its musical accompaniment. Mendelson contacted the jazz columnist for the city’s newspaper, the San Francisco Chronicle, who put him in touch with Guaraldi. Guaraldi took the gig, performed a version of what would become “Linus and Lucy” over the phone to Mendelson just two weeks later, and recorded the full soundtrack with the Vince Guaraldi Trio over the course of the next couple of months.

I remember being entranced by O Tannenbaum. The song has long been known as one of the simplest Christmas carols, one that every kid learns in school. But Guaraldi set it to the lightest pace, one slightly off center, and suddenly what was familiar became more enchanting. Guaraldi’s seeming improvisational take on an old German song reinvented it and even though I didn’t know it at the time, turned me into a jazz lover. Someone who enjoys the emotion, the centering of the music, the possibilities it represents; the surprise I always find.

Linus and Lucy is still impossible for me to hear without seeing the Peanuts characters all dancing freely with near abandon, heads bobbing up and down, feet largely in place, shifting with the beat from side to side, as the now so-familiar piano chords are pounded out.

Guaraldi and his drummer Jerry Granelli and bassist Puzzy Firth (sitting in for Fred Marshall) created one of the strongest enticements for learning to not just appreciate but love jazz, perhaps ever. From the opening melancholy of Christmas Time is Here to the final Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, the music permeates through the characters to become – at least to me – the ultimate message of the holiday: that music can grab onto a person, can wrap itself around both the psyche and the soul to put both in a trance. It’s about expression and individualism, rather than the straight biblical interpretation of Linus’ recitation. Beautiful as that may be, I believe that the ultimate religious experience of A Charlie Brown Christmas comes from the piano chords as decided by Vince Guaraldi. A message of potential as created by the improvisation of great jazz.

The album was re-released in October for the third time. It features the original 1965 recording newly re-mastered with 24-bit technology from the original analog master tapes. Naturally, it’s on CD. But it will also be issued on green vinyl. Nothing says great holiday jazz like green vinyl.

Celebrating my love of jazz on this Sunday, with deepest gratitude to the late, great Vincent Anthony Guaraldi. 

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