Bashing Classics

I’m not in the business of bashing classics.  I’m probably way too timid and self-conscious to deal with the backlash.  But when a friend recently went to town on that old favourite children’s book Good Night Moon on her Facebook page...well, I guess it gave me a bit of courage to write about something that bothers me every year around this time.  Thank you, Natasha.  Sorry, Bob Geldof and about 40 of Britain’s top musicians of the 80’s.

Yes, you guessed it.  The source of my rage and anxiety for the past 20 or so Christmases is the smash hit “Do They Know It’s Christmas” and Band Aid.  

A little disclaimer first:  I fully appreciate and definitely commend the spirit and purpose of the song.  And, of course I recognize that it raised a lot of money for a very worthy charity.  And besides, there’s the video.  Who doesn’t love Sting in a Dorothy Hamill haircut?  

Or Bono with a mullet so bushy you’d think he was a squirrel? 

Or Phil Collins with any hair at all? (I'll spare you the photo) And I especially love when they focus in on Sting while he sings “Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears.”  See that?  See what they did there?

Now that’s clever.  Which is why the LYRICS are so disappointing and cringe-worthy.  I get them, I really do.  I just find them in slightly poor taste and incredibly ambiguous.  Maybe Geldof wrote them in a hurry in order to get the song recorded and released before Christmas?  Wikipedia, that fount of all knowledge, doesn’t say.  (But it does say that Boy George was woken up by Geldof and flown to the UK from the US on the Concord for the recording.  They had the studio until 7pm, he arrived at 6.  There you go, your fun fact for the day!).   I don’t know if he was trying to be poetic or artistic or just trying to get things to rhyme in a hurry, but it just seems to me, if you’re releasing a song that’s meant to appeal to a mass audience, you need to take into consideration the lowest common denominator.

And incidentally, Bob Geldof thinks it's crap himself.  

So, here it is my hugest pet peeve, the reason why I want to change the station every time, but I grit my teeth and sing along anyway, because, well, I love to shout “Let-them-know-it’s-Christmas-time” at the top of my lungs like everyone else.  It’s Bono’s heart-wrenching “But tonight thank God it’s them instead of you.”  I get it.  I understand that it’s supposed to mean we should all be thankful that we’re not starving in a barren desert (which not ALL of Africa is, by the way, but I digress).  That we should thank our lucky stars that we’re healthy and happy with all of our modern conveniences.  But, ever since I was little, that one line struck me as being misleading at best, and heartless at worst.  Of course I appreciate all that I have, but why would I thank God that someone else doesn’t have it?   I know that’s not what was intended, but that’s what my 8 year old ears heard.  And I would bet that that’s what a lot of older than 8 year old ears heard at the time, and didn’t stop to ponder the line.  

As for the less offending lyrics, well, I could pick the whole song apart, line by line, but I’ll just share my highlights:

 “And there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmastime.”  Bob, that has nothing to do with Christmas.  Or money.  Or starvation.  That’s just geography.

“The greatest gift they’ll get this year is life.”  Hold on, isn’t the gift of life the greatest gift there is anyway?  Rivalled only by the heap of money Bob & Co are trying to get you to part with, I guess.  Although it’s hard to appreciate money when you don’t have the gift of....oh, never mind!

“And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom” Well, aren’t we dramatic?  If they don’t know it’s Christmas, they probably don’t have Christmas bells.  You can’t have it both ways, Bob. 

But, regarding “Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?”  Given that Christians form the largest religious group in Sub-Sarahan Africa and that North Africa is largely Islamic, I would guess that either they do, or they don’t really care.  

Some of you will say I’m being harsh.  Or even silly.  After all, we really shouldn’t rip something to shreds when we actually do understand what it’s SUPPOSED to say.  And I guess, in retrospect, it was something that made a lot of people aware and motivated them enough to give generously to those in need. So, I suppose I’ll have to admit that despite semantics “Do they know it’s Christmas?” was a good thing. Thus, in spite of myself, I tip my proverbial hat to the Band Aid phenomenon and, since it's Christmas, I'll shout along with everyone else “Let – Them – Know – It’s – Christmastime – A – FEEEEEED – The – Wo-orld.”

Things I Want My Son To Learn

Even though he's only 16 months old, I sometimes get glimpses of the man T will become.  The curve of his shoulders that are just like his dad's, the hint of muscle tone in a chubby thigh, the flare of a temper, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners so that you can tell that he's smiling even when you're looking at the back of his head from a 45 degree angle.  These hints of the physical make me wonder about T, the adult.  What will he take away from his childhood and what will the man be like?




Honestly, I want him to look back and think "Boy, my mom was fun! That old broad and I had some good times!" I want him to remember us dancing in the kitchen and building forts with blankets and pillows in the living room.  I want him to remember jumping in the puddles, running through the leaves, sledding in the snow and swimming in the ocean.  I want him to think back to cozy Christmases and hot summers with a large and loving family all around.  I want him to recall warm hugs around his neck and cool lips on his forehead.  Snuggling and cuddling and feeling safe.

It sounds nice, doesn't it?  Ideal, even. Though, I admit, it's all a bit unicorns and rainbows.  But not to fear, I do have substance in mind.

I hope that the future T will be kind-hearted and fair with an instinctive sense of right and wrong.  I hope he is confident but not cocky, focused but not narrow-minded, sensitive yet strong, sweet, but not a pushover.  Of course he should be polite and well-mannered, with a sincere smile.  I want him to be ambitious, but to always remember that though others may have more than him, he is incredibly fortunate in life.  And I hope he will always try to help those less fortunate whenever he can.  I want him to be trustworthy and to trust others completely.  I want him to be able to acknowledge his faults and try to overcome them with enthusiasm and purpose.  I want him to love confidently and with all of his heart and to accept love given to him with grace.

But perhaps most idealistically, I want him to be blissfully unaware that he is becoming this most incredible man.  I want him to emerge from childhood with his flawless ethics and perfect sense of self already intact, unaware that he had been learning how to treat himself and how to treat others all along.  That these lessons had been whispered into his ear while he was happily at play.  That his little brain was absorbing knowledge at the same time his little heart was absorbing love.

I hope I'm not setting the bar too high - either for T or for myself.  But even though he's only 16 months, T is constantly amazing me and I can honestly say that there's no way he can disappoint me.  Besides, one of the most important lessons I've learned so far is to never underestimate the power of a child.

A Tale of Two Cities

I never intended to get this sappy or reveal this much this early on in this blog, but timeliness prevails.  Two nights ago my heart broke a little.  And it's not the first time.  S, T and I were visiting my family in New York for Thanksgiving.  T and I are staying for three weeks, but S had to head back to London to return to work after only six days.  S and I are no strangers to separation, but I'm constantly surprised that it never gets any easier.

A little background to illustrate my point:
S and I met 10 years ago in a suitably seedy bar in the Hamptons while he was working in New York.  I was at my best friend's bachelorette party and he was there with some friends that he was sharing a summer house with.  That should give you some indication of the type of occasion this was exactly...in any case it was as romantic as it could be under the circumstances - I think we had our first kiss under the contents of a can of Bud.  As you do.  A week or so later we had our first date, then our second and then our third.  Before we knew it we were in a relationship.

And then it happened - after 2 1/2 years of dating, S had to go back to London.  What will you do? people wanted to know.  Frankly, we had no idea so we decided to try to see one another as often as possible and just see what happened.  That was December.  By April, I was done with the long-distance thing and called S to tell him.  "We could just get married," he blurted out.  Um, come again??  Of course it had come up before, but we had decided we weren't there yet.  But, I guess that old sayings are old sayings for a reason - hearts really do grow fonder.  We got married in February 2004, after having lived in separate countries for 14 months.  I quit my job, packed up my stuff and moved to London to be with S, knowing it would be hard, but looking at it as an adventure. 

We waited to have T for a variety of reasons.  Among them, for me, were the complications that an international relationship inevitably throws up.  I'm a real daydreamer, but I'm not unrealistic.  I know a crazy percentage of marriages end in divorce.  What would happen to our child if our relationship broke down?  Would he be shuttled across an ocean twice a year for two weeks at a time?  Would he have a good relationship with both his parents?  Would S and I be able to remain civil for the sake of a kid?  I still shudder to think, especially now that we have T.  And, forgive me S, but sometimes when I'm feeling down, I wonder if I made the right decision 10 years ago.  But you can't help who you fall in love with and you get to a point where you just need to shove the "what ifs" to the back of your brain, else you'd never live your life.

So, back to the airport - S and I said our goodbye at the security gate, with my dad looking anywhere else he could to avoid seeing the kissing, as if we weren't nearly middle aged!  And as I started to tear up, Dad made a comment to the effect that I was being overly dramatic.  Defensively, and perhaps without thinking, I shot back with "I'm sorry, but my life kinda sucks right now!"  My dad just shook his head as S walked toward the gate.  "You don't know what you have!" he said.

I knew I spoke carelessly, but I think it's really hard for people to understand how difficult it is to live in a place where most of the people that you love are not.  And then to visit that place and to have the person that perhaps you love the most leave.  So that even when I'm home, I'm saying goodbye. 

I know I'm incredibly lucky - I have an amazing little boy who smiles easily and often.  I have a wonderful husband who has proven time and again that his love is unconditional.  I have warm, generous, loving parents who let me be me despite the fact that being me means I (and by extension T) am not often around.  I have a brother who is much sweeter than he pretends to be and who has a beautiful family that I simply adore.  I have a gorgeous grandmother who I've learned important life's lessons from - from how to shimmy seductively to how to love someone with all of my heart.

And that's just on one continent.

So I didn't start out to write a Thanksgiving post, but maybe that's what this is.  I am so very thankful for the many wonderful things and people in my life - I just wish I could have them all at once.

And I suppose that concept really hit home as my dad chastised me for not being thankful Monday night.  Because as I watched my husband walk away from me, a tear rolled down my cheek and I said to my dad "I know what I've got.  Unfortunately for me it's all separated by a big ocean."  And I know that we'll only be away from S for two weeks.  But when T and I are back in London, we'll be back with S, but we'll be missing our beautiful family and friends in New York.  And so the cycle continues...