Houston, we have a problem...Life on Mars looks eerily familiar.

I know it has been a mere three (? who knows; "not very many" there, we'll make it simple) days since my last post. I doubt anyone has even read it as of yet; if I hadn't written it, I probably wouldn't have read it myself. In fact, the only thing I've read, thought, or mulled over for the past...however long...is British history to 1688. To be more specific, the fall of Anne Boleyn, the political and personal events that culminated in the unfortunate separation of head and shoulders. And yet, no matter how much I read, how many different reasons are given for this rather unpleasant episode, the fact still remains that she was beheaded. It may just be an unintellectual and/or naive view of things to take, but it does seem to me that the "whys" and "wherefores" are rather superfluous. She had her head lopped off, I mean, seriously, does it really matter why? I don't think it would have given her any comfort to know that historians are still debating the exact reasons for her downfall. Personally, I wouldn't care. "Okay, wonderful, you know why I'm in the Tower of London. But, regardless of the reasons, I'm in the Tower of London. Now, if you had a file, or a blueprint, then you might actually be useful..." I suppose it is like Mark Twain once said, "Things ne'er do go smoothly in weddings, suicides, or courtships."

Enough of my self-pitying whining, though. Now that we are officially in the second week of November, I feel justified in thinking about Christmas. I started playing Christmas music a month ago (my Dad just shakes his head as he walks by). One of the great things about Christmas is that no one cares how puerilely you behave (within reason), if it is in the spirit of the season, and can be categorized as a "tradition." Our traditions seem to revolve around *surprise* movies. There are many classic Christmas moments. What would Christmas be without "I triple dog-dare you!", a cold flag pole, and a playground full of children, waiting with bated breath for the challenge to work its magic?
One I always liked to watch at Christmas was an animated version of Oscar Wilde's "The Selfish Giant." Wilde had his issues, bless his heart, but you have to admit that he wrote wonderfully. (It is interesting to note that he fell in love with a woman and was completely devastated when she turned around and married Bram Stoker (author of Dracula). Personally, I don't think it says much for her, that she took up with those who led lives of such complete dissipation, and then married someone who could write so prolifically about a Transylvanian count who was infamous for his cruelty, even if said author did turn him into a fictional character. Like I said, doesn't say much for her, does it? Anyway...)
All that aside, Wilde's "The Selfish Giant" is a beautiful children's story that isn't just for children. If you have never heard it, you should look up a copy and read it, it will be worth your while. It is about a giant who owned a beautiful garden at the top of the hill above a small town. The giant had been away, living by the sea for years, and so the children of the town had become accustomed to playing in his garden. One day, the giant suddenly returns and throws them all from the garden, building a wall to keep "trespassers" out, leaving the children wandering forsaken out in the cold, windy streets. It is always a heart-wrenching thing to me, when the narrator tells how the children would wander around outside the giant's wall and say to each other, "How happy we were there!" So, the giant gets his wish, he is left alone, no one passes his gates, not even fall, who laments his selfishness and therefore does not offer her bounty and beauty to his garden. The spring refuses to come, for it misses the children. Winter, frost, and the cold North wind come to live in the giant's garden, for it is their ideal. All day long the wind howls, winter spreads her mantle, and frost breathes on all living things. One day, the giant hears something he can't place. He opens his window and sees a bird, swaying on a barren branch and chirping cheerfully. The giant becomes excited, wondering how the bird has come to be there when he spies a corner of the garden which has bloomed. Rushing downstairs, he sees that a small aperture has opened in his wall, through which the children have come in. The giant sees his error and begins to tumble the wall he so selfishly constructed to his own detriment. The garden becomes a beautiful abundance of blooms and children's laughter. As they see the giant's approach, they become frightened and run away, and the garden once more withdraws itself. I won't give anymore away, but the clip is an abbreviated version, so I thought I would explain a little more of what led up to the ending. I just always think of this one at Christmas, because of what it ends up being about.



The next one is funny (at least to me). "Carol of the Bells" has always been one of my family's Christmas favorites, and so Heather and I used to love watching this one when we were young, and it seems to be one of those things that, if it strikes you funny once, it is just always going to be funny. I just think it is hilarious, when you listen to the "announcer" at the beginning, that he says that he "has a hunch" that it is going to be a wonderful performance. I know, I know, I'm a dork; but hey, it is still funny.



The next one needs neither introduction nor explanation, but I will say this: they cut a small hole in the flagpole and created a vacuum inside. Without telling the child actor what they had done, they waited for him to lean into the flagpole and then switched on the suction. In other words, the reaction you see on film is authentic, he isn't acting at all. Poor kid, they'd never get away with it nowadays. But sometimes you just have to take one for the team, don't you? (I always have an uncomfortable, sneaking suspicion, every time I watch this, though, that I am looking at my own (hypothetical) children in the form of the short, scrawny, sarcastic know-it-all in the striped cap who orchestrates the whole fiasco. (Or success, whichever viewpoint you choose to see it from, I suppose).)



(I have to add a similar story of my own. Well, not mine, but my Dad's. When he was a fairly young (but old enough to know better) child, he had been outdoors, playing, when he decided he needed a drink of water. When he went to the freezer to get ice for his glass, he realized there was no ice. So, the next logical thing, he decides, is to lick the metal lever that operates the ice-maker, as it is covered in a thin layer of ice itself...Yeah...'nough said.)

I also had to put in a list of some of my favorite Christmas music. Yes, it does have a lot of the same songs, but they are all different versions, so hopefully there will be something for everyone. I included "Sabbath Prayer" from "Fiddler on the Roof" because I remember the first time I ever watched it as a child, was during the winter, close to Christmas. Plus, it seems as if many of the most poignant moments of the movie occur during the winter; when the second eldest daughter is leaving, as they sit on the train platform, or when the youngest daughter marries the Russian soldier, or the very end, when the Jews are being expelled. I go through multiple boxes of Kleenex watching that movie.