Some of my fondest childhood memories involve our family tradition of driving into the hills to see the luminaries on Christmas Eve. At first my brothers and I thought it was torture. We'd stuff ourselves into the back seat of that Buick Century and be forced to listen to Handel's Messiah. My parents would lecture us about this being good family time, and we'd whine and cry and fight. Oh, the torture! (For both parents and kids, I'm sure!)
But then one year, instead of listening to the Messiah, my mom popped in a Julie Andrews Christmas tape (yes, that's how old I am). At first we kids moaned and groaned per usual. Then we started teasing my mom about the awful tape. (Not that there's anything bad about Julie; these were just not the best versions of the songs.) Then came the song "Sleigh Ride Together", and there was a part about something like the chestnuts popping in the fire and Julie sang "pop, Pop, POP!!" It was the most obnoxious and hysterical Christmas song we had ever heard (even my mom had to admit it was terrible) - it became an instant Roper family classic.
From then on, seeing the luminaries on Christmas Eve became something we all looked forward to. Instead of whining while getting into the car, we'd run to get the best seats and fight over who Nikki, our big dumb black Labrador, would sit next to. (We had a stylin' mini-van by then.) Instead of complaining about the music, we'd insist on such Christmas classics as "Dogs Singing Jingle Bells", "Christmas At Ground Zero", "The Night Santa Went Crazy", samples from the Messiah, and, of course, the infamous Ms. Julie Andrews singing "Sleigh Ride Together". (One year the tape went missing and it was VERY traumatic!)
We'd sing along with the lyrics at the top of our lungs. We'd laugh as Nikki jumped back and forth between the seats, covering us all in her dumb doggie slobber kisses. We'd enjoy the beautiful luminaries, and make fun of the jerks who didn't turn their headlights off (like you're supposed to) while driving through. We'd make jokes and laugh and talk about the year and Christmases in the past. And then on they way home we'd drive through this one neighborhood with so many Christmas lights and decorations that it put Vegas to shame. (The total antithesis of our home, which only had candles in the windows and a few strands of white lights on the palm tree.)
And even as a teenager, I'd get into bed that night with butterflies in my stomach, unable to sleep because I was excited and eager for Christmas morning to come.
Thanks, Julie. And, pop, pop, pop!!!
But then one year, instead of listening to the Messiah, my mom popped in a Julie Andrews Christmas tape (yes, that's how old I am). At first we kids moaned and groaned per usual. Then we started teasing my mom about the awful tape. (Not that there's anything bad about Julie; these were just not the best versions of the songs.) Then came the song "Sleigh Ride Together", and there was a part about something like the chestnuts popping in the fire and Julie sang "pop, Pop, POP!!" It was the most obnoxious and hysterical Christmas song we had ever heard (even my mom had to admit it was terrible) - it became an instant Roper family classic.
From then on, seeing the luminaries on Christmas Eve became something we all looked forward to. Instead of whining while getting into the car, we'd run to get the best seats and fight over who Nikki, our big dumb black Labrador, would sit next to. (We had a stylin' mini-van by then.) Instead of complaining about the music, we'd insist on such Christmas classics as "Dogs Singing Jingle Bells", "Christmas At Ground Zero", "The Night Santa Went Crazy", samples from the Messiah, and, of course, the infamous Ms. Julie Andrews singing "Sleigh Ride Together". (One year the tape went missing and it was VERY traumatic!)
We'd sing along with the lyrics at the top of our lungs. We'd laugh as Nikki jumped back and forth between the seats, covering us all in her dumb doggie slobber kisses. We'd enjoy the beautiful luminaries, and make fun of the jerks who didn't turn their headlights off (like you're supposed to) while driving through. We'd make jokes and laugh and talk about the year and Christmases in the past. And then on they way home we'd drive through this one neighborhood with so many Christmas lights and decorations that it put Vegas to shame. (The total antithesis of our home, which only had candles in the windows and a few strands of white lights on the palm tree.)
And even as a teenager, I'd get into bed that night with butterflies in my stomach, unable to sleep because I was excited and eager for Christmas morning to come.
Thanks, Julie. And, pop, pop, pop!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment