Is There Really a Santa Claus, Part 12

As Christmas draws ever closer, here are some notes on two more of the tracks from my latest holiday mix:

Track 33
Casey Kasem’s Christmas Favorites, by Casey Kasem (2004)

"Keep your feet on the ground, and keep reaching for the stars."

– Casey Kasem

When I heard this past Father’s Day that longtime radio personality Casey Kasem had died, my first reaction was a sense of relief on his behalf. Kasem had been suffering from Lewy body dementia, a progressive neurological disease that’s incredibly painful for the sufferer and taxing on his caregivers. To make matters worse, a pitched battle had apparently arisen between Kasem’s second wife and the children of his first marriage over who should be empowered to make decisions on his behalf. Under such dreadful circumstances, I thought, death would have to be seen as a blessing. Still, I felt the news as a personal blow. Having spent countless hours with Kasem nearly every weekend while growing up, it felt as though I'd lost an old friend. 

Kasem wore many hats during his long career, including actor, investor, philanthropist and political activist. He was an especially successful voice actor, recording hundreds of commercials and voicing the role of Shaggy on the cartoon “Scooby Doo.” But he was best known as the creator and host of “American Top 40” (AT40), the syndicated weekly radio show in which Kasem counted-down the 40 most popular records in the country each week based on Billboard magazine’s latest Hot 100 chart. I was an avid fan of the show throughout my high school and college years, and I'd listen for three hours most weekends while Casey introduced and played the 40 biggest hits of the week. It was always great fun to see how my favorites were doing and to hear Kasem’s observations about the various records and the artists who made them.

I distinctly remember the first time I heard AT40. It was July 1974, and I was spending the first half of the summer at Camp O-At-Ka on Sebego Lake in Maine. I’d just begun to get into rock music in a big way, and throughout the spring I’d been religiously following the local WBZ-FM Top 40 countdown in Boston, which, of course, we couldn’t hear in Maine. Then one Saturday during afternoon rest, one of my bunkmates picked up Kasem’s countdown on his transistor radio. I was thrilled beyond measure, especially when it became clear that this countdown reflected the top songs nationwide, not just for Boston. (Over time, I came to see that Boston’s taste in music is more to my liking than the nation as a whole, but that’s a whole different kettle of fish.) The #1 song that week happened to be my favorite song at the time – "Rock Your Baby," by George McRae, so, for the moment, all was right with the world. For the next several years, I don’t think I missed more than a handful of AT40’s weekly broadcasts, and I kept meticulous notes of the songs that moved up and down the charts. For awhile, I even kept tallies of my own ten favorite songs each week. As a DJ on my college radio station in Baltimore, a friend and I created a weekly show we called “Hotline,” which looking back, was in every way an homage to Kasem. I’m glad to have discovered AT40 on that sunny July afternoon in Maine, and I’m grateful for the long hours spent with him growing up.  

Here's a very funny appearance by Kasem on The Late Show with David Letterman:

Track 32
Susie, the Snow Girl, by Mickey Rooney (1955)
When Mickey Rooney died this past April at the age of 93, the curtain came down on one of the most extraordinary careers in show business history. It was certainly one of the longest. Rooney started acting in motion pictures in 1926 at the age of six, and for the next 85 years he was never out of the spotlight for long. Between the ages of 15 and 25 he made 43 pictures, working with greats like Spencer Tracy, Elizabeth Taylor and Judy Garland and earning a place as one of the most popular and respected actors of the day. Unfortunately, the start of World War II interrupted Rooney’s acting career just when he was at his peak, but while he never quite regained the stature and popularity he enjoyed in his teens and early 20s, he had a long and varied career and remained vital and active right up until the end.

Like so many of the celebrities of his day, and ours, Rooney was known as much for his personal life as his professional endeavors. He was married eight times, struggled with alcohol and other drug problems, and, despite earning millions, was in financial trouble more than once. Yet, like Lazarus, his career never seemed to stay dead for long. In 1979, for example, he made his Broadway debut in Sugar Babies, which became a big hit. He and co-star Ann Miller would up playing together for over 1200 shows. In 2006, Rooney was cast in the film A Night at the Museum, which not only turned out to be a smash hit but also spawned two sequels in which Rooney played.

In his later years, Rooney acted in and provided voices for a series of Christmas movies and animated films, playing Santa Claus at least five times. These include:

• Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town (voice, 1970)
• The Year Without a Santa Claus (voice, 1974)
• Rudolph and Frosty’s Christmas in July (voice, 1979)
• It Came Upon the Midnight Clear (1984)
• Home for Christmas (1990)
• Silent Night, Deadly Nigh 5: The Toy Maker (1992)
• The Happy Elf (2005)
• A Christmas Too Many (2005)
• A Miser Brothers Christmas (voice, 2008)

“Susie the Snow Girl” is a silly little song that Rooney both wrote and sang. It was never a big hit – in fact it’s sometimes described as a “rare” or “forgotten” entry in Rooney’s catalog. At the time of its release, Billboard magazine, in its December 3, 1955 issue, described it as “[a] personable rendition by the perpetual pixie of a slight winter novelty cleffed by Rooney himself.” Still, it’s kind of cute. And so was he.


That's all for today. I'll be watching Darlene Love tonight on Letterman, and I'll be back tomorrow with another great clip from the SNL archives.

Here Comes Santa Claus, Part 2

Yesterday, I started posting a little background on the various tracks included on my latest holiday mix, Here Comes Santa Claus, and I'm hoping to continue with that until I've provided at least a little information about each of the 38 tracks on this year's CD. With that word of warning, let's press on!

Track 6 

Window Wonderland Stencils Kit Commercial, Gold Seal Glass Wax (c. 1963)
The sixth track on this year's CD is an edited version of a vintage TV commercial touting the use of Gold Seal Glass Wax with the company's holiday stencils kit to create decorative seasonal images on glass windows. Glass wax, which I vaguely remember, was a popular window cleaner in the 1950s and '60s. Many people disliked using spray or aerosol window cleaners such as Windex because they supposedly left streaks. Glass wax, by contrast, was applied to the glass with a sponge, and, once it had dried it could be easily rubbed off with a dry cloth leaving sparkling clear, streak-free windows. As this commercial explains, glass wax could also be applied with a stencil and left on the window in a distinctive pattern. Once painted on the window, it looked like etched glass or frost, and was easily removed after the holidays. I don't recall decorating our windows with this technique growing up, although I believe my cousins did. I vividly recall cleaning a whole mess of windows every spring, however: regular and storm windows at our home in Massachusetts, as well as the very old glass windows at our summer home in Maine, and at "the Studio" behind my grandmother's home on the Stroudwater River in Portland, Maine. Her home was previously owned by the impressionist painter Walter Griffin (1861-1935), to whom she was related by marriage, and "the Studio" was where he did a lot of his work. My cousins, my brother and I frequently slept there in the warmer months, and I lived there for two summers during college while working as a cook to earn money for school. That place had lots of windows, and over the years I'd guess we used pretty much every possible type of window cleaner on them.


Track 5
Three Blind Christmas Mice, The Bel-Airs (1962)

The Bel-Airs, c. 1961

I can't remember where I first ran across this bouncy little number, but I'm sure glad I did. It's by a group called The Bel-Airs, and it's a great example of the underappreciated surf rock genre that became popular in Southern California and certain other parts of the country in the early to mid-1960s. The Bel-Airs were among the earliest and most influential West Coast surf rock bands. Formed in 1960, they had their biggest hit the following year with an instrumental titled Mr. Moto, which was apparently based on the fictional Japanese secret agent created in the 1930s by author John Marquand. Three Blind Christmas Mice, also known as "The Three Blind Mice Make It to Santa's Village," was released in 1962 and appears to be the only holiday song The Bel Airs recorded. It's an instrumental mash-up of "Jingle Bells" and  the popular children's tune "Three Blind Mice," but it's the high-octane surf-rock beat that makes it great. Sadly, the surf rock scene pretty much fizzled out with the arrival of the British invasion, and by 1964 The Bel-Airs were gone. Happily, most of the members remained in music after the break-up. Guitarist Eddie Bertrand formed Eddie & the Showmen in 1964, while guitarist Paul Johnson joined Cat Mother & the All Night Newsboys in 1970. Original Bel-Airs drummer Dick Dodd joined Bertrand in Eddie & the Showmen, and later joined the legendary Los Angeles garage band The Standells, playing drums and singing lead on their 1966 surf-style hit, Dirty Water, which is pretty much the national anthem of Boston rock. That's right, surf rock's always been big in Boston, and it doesn't come as easily to folks in Massachusetts as to residents of California. For proof, check out one of my favorite Boston rock classics, the Gremies' No Surfing in Dorchester Bay.  

Track 4
Holiday Greetings from the S.O.S. Band (c. 1987)

The S.O.S. Band

I've been using celebrity holiday greetings between songs ever since my very first holiday mix, although I use them less frequently with each successive mix.  They're an easy way to transition from one song to another, much as commercials were back in the days of Top 40 AM radio. It's hard to segue directly  from an uptempo song to something sad, for example, without some kind of bridge, and devices like the celebrity greeting allow you to make those transitions without a whole lot of thought. (Former American Top 40 host Casey Kasem addressed this topic in one of the most famous backstage rants to ever hit the internet.) Depending on who's involved, celebrity greetings can also add a certain cachet to a project, or at the very least a sense of recognition or familiarity. The ones I like best, however, are the ones from B-, C- or D-list celebrities -- the clips that leave you wondering "who the hell is this person and why do I care that he's wishing me a Merry Christmas?" Which brings us to the S.O.S. Band. Well – no, wait. That's not really fair to them. In fact, I really liked this band, back in the day. You may remember their first single, Take Your Time (Do It Right), which was a huge hit during the Summer of 1980. I was living in New York City that summer and had just discovered the club scene there, and I guess I'll always associate this song with a set of experiences and memories that have no place in an upstanding holiday music blog like this. If you want to know more about the S.O.S. Band, you can look them up on Google. I'm too busy right now enjoying the first rays of sunlight on a long-ago July morning, as I make my way up Eighth Avenue with the beat of the disco still thumping in my ears.

PS: Casey Kasem offers a snapshot of the top-selling records of that summer in the America's Top 10 broadcast that aired on August 17, 1980. The YouTube clip notes at 5:20 that "Take Your Time (Do It Right)" was the number three song in the country that week. What was #1? Olivia Newton-John's "Magic," God help us all. Incidentally, Newton-John and John Travolta recently released an album of holiday music that Travolta describes as "intimate," and "not [ ] too ostentatious or showy." Benefits from the album go to charity, which seems to be the record's one redeeming feature.

Stay tuned for more tomorrow.