Christmas Cheer - Part 10

With only nine days to go until Christmas, we're getting into the shank of the holiday season. I guess it's only fitting then to discuss several tracks that represent the kind of material I had in mind when I first started putting these mixes together during the first few years of the current millennium. My earliest collections were filled with the tackiest and most grating stuff I could find. Most of the evidence of those original efforts has been destroyed, thankfully, but they didn't include many tracks you'd willingly listen to twice. Over time, I've come to include a more balanced mix of material, but I still sprinkle a little dreck in each mix for flavor, and today we're going to look at three of the dreckiest cuts from Christmas Cheer.

Track 29
Merry Christmas, Elvis, Michele Cody (1978)

I’ve written before about WFMU-FM, which for around ten years offered a treasure trove of internet oddities on its wonderful Beware of The Blog website. I discovered this tune via the first iteration of WFMU’s 365 Days Project, which offered up a unique and typically bizarre aural track each day throughout 2003 It was sufficiently popular and successful that they ran another series in 2007.

Longtime WFMU contributor Dancin’ Dave offered the following introduction to “Merry Christmas, Elvis” back on December 23, 2003:

 

We all know that Nashville is a music town and Nashville kids get into music early. They have "been playin" since they’s babies, get work before they’re two.' For singers, it seems to be about age nine when the urge to perform kicks in. (Although it’s probably the parents who have the urge and not their kids.)

 

Yes, there’s nothing they like better in Nashville than a tiny little girl who sings country music. She doesn’t actually have to sing well. After all, she is only nine. But she gets up there and sings her little heart out, God bless her.

 

I have collected a half dozen singles by these "Little Girls From Nashville' and each one is a crime against nature. (See also "Happy Birthday Jesus” by Little Cindy on November 2nd, number 306, and anything you can find by Rita Faye.) The girls don’t have good voices, the songs are sickeningly treacly, and the lyrics often involve God or the Easter bunny. It all adds up to a perfectly insufferable record.

 

The gem I present for you now has been hand-picked as the worst offender, perhaps the awfullest 45 I own. Released in 1978 on the Safari label, just a year after the passing of The King of Rock ‘n’ Roll, this one has it all: Cloying sentiment, a message to a recently deceased celebrity, and a holiday theme! All wrapped up in two minutes and 31 seconds of pure joy.

 

You may be tempted to listen to the first minute and say "Okay, I’ve heard enough.' But I implore you, listen all the way to the end. There’s a spoken-word section that sends the Cringe-O-Meter to 11.

 

Interestingly, there’s a phone number listed on the label. Is it the number for Safari Records? Or is it Michele Cody’s home number? I must admit, I looked it up. It’s not listed as either. Besides, even if I could track down Michele she’d be about 34, and she’s probably lost that adorable quality that you can only find in only a talentless nine-year-old from Nashville.

I couldn't have said it any better myself.

Hear Linda Hughes’ “(It's A Sad, Sad Time For Me) Elvis Won't Be Here For Xmas” (1977)

Listen to Diana Williams' "Goodbye Bing, Elvis and Guy" (1977)

Track 30
I Want Kristy for Christmas, Craig Malon (1979)

I’ve got really mixed emotions about this track, friends — and I’m still conflicted about whether I should have included it in this year’s mix. On the one hand, it’s the kind of tacky period piece that I usually love. The first time I heard it I felt like I’d been magically transported right back to 1979. I suddenly wanted to flip on an ABC Afterschool Special or catch an episode of Battle of the Network Stars. On the other hand, this song is creepy as hell. I have no idea who Craig Malon is and while I don’t mean to sound judgmental, what kind of man would actually record a song about having a crush on a teenage TV actress? Sometimes it feels like today’s standards are going to hell, but I’m guessing this song would raise an awful lot more concern today than it did back then — and that’s a good thing. So far as I can tell, this is the only tune Craig ever recorded, and that’s probably OK, too.

Kristy McNichol

For younger readers who likely have no idea who she is, Kristy McNichol was a popular child actress in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s best known for her work on the ABC series Family. This show was intended to be an honest depiction of a typical upper-middle-class, suburban family with realistic characters and relatable challenges and struggles. McNichol played the family’s youngest daughter, Buddy, and she earned strong reviews for her work. She won Emmy nominations for Best Supporting Actress in a Drama Series three years in a row and won in 1977 and 1979. In 1980 she was nominated for an Emmy for Best Actress in a Drama Series. She appeared in over 20 movies from 1978-93 and had roles in more than a dozen other TV shows. As this song suggests, McNichol was also a favorite in the teen and celebrity press.

During the 1990s, McNichol stepped away from acting a couple of different times amidst reports that her busy schedule and career pressures had taken a toll on her. She was also diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Sometime later she acknowledged that a key cause of her difficulty was the stress associated with hiding her sexuality. McNichol came out as a lesbian and said she hoped doing so would help others who were afraid or being bullied. I suspect Craig Malon did not celebrate McNichol’s announcement, but I wish her a very merry Christmas and hope she’s finally comfortable being herself. 

Track 31
I Want a Hee Haw Honey Under My Christmas Tree, Boxcar Willie (1978)

Finally, we’ve got one more track to share today that is — as a friend of mine used to say — top-heavy with class. This one is something of an homage to that classic down-home variety show Hee Haw, and while there are a number of different versions of the song in circulation, I chose to use the one by Boxcar Willie.

Minnie Pearl

I never really cared for Hee Haw much myself. I thought it was pretty corny, the jokes seemed tired and I’ve never been all that crazy about most country music. There was one thing about the show I did appreciate, and that was the friendly sense of community and camaraderie found in the show. Co-hosts Buck Owens and Roy Clark were as friendly and welcoming as they could be, and the rest of the cast seemed to be relentlessly upbeat and gracious (if not always funny). Minnie Pearl always stuck out most to me, no doubt because she always seemed to wear a hat with the price tag still hanging from it.

I’m told the show was loosely based on Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In, only with a country slant. Even as a kid I preferred Laugh-In, which seemed a lot more topical and relevant. Growing up outside of Boston, the cornfield of Hee Haw seemed pretty remote and foreign to me, and the cast struck me as dull and dowdy compared to the quick-witted and “with it” folks who did the Frug at the crazy Laugh-In parties. I even had a poster in my room featuring Arte Johnson's character, German soldier Wolfgang ("veeeeery eeenteresting!"). I couldn’t see myself hanging a poster of Minnie Pearl anywhere in the house.

I guess the other common element that both shows had was pretty women. Owens and Clark surrounded themselves with good looking younger woman on most episodes of Hee Haw, which is really what this song is all about. This is another song that really wouldn’t get too far today, as it’s out of fashion to think of women as sex symbols. I don’t think women ought to be objectified myself, but I can’t pretend that it doesn’t happen or that men used to openly celebrate that it did. In other words, I think of this song as a period piece that reflects the different sensibilities that were prevalent 30 or 40 years ago.

Network television in the 1950s and ‘60s looked a lot different than what we’re used to seeing in many respects. One of the key lines of demarcation came with the “rural purge” of the early ‘70s largely orchestrated by Fred Silverman, who was in charge of programming at CBS at the time. Data showed that viewers of the many country-style shows on CBS were less responsive to advertising than viewers of more sophisticated programs based in urban and suburban settings. In response, Silverman axed a bunch of successful rural shows including Petticoat Junction, Mayberry RFD, The Beverly Hillbillies, The Jim Nabors Hour, Green Acres — and Hee Haw. They were replaced with such shows as The Mary Tyler Moore Show, All in the Family, The Bob Newhart Show and The Carol Burnett Show, all of which worked more effectively for the sponsors.

 

Watch the Hee Haw Documentary

Just six left to consider and I'll be back one of these days to tackle a few more.