A Stupid Christmas Song

You don’t have to be my age to have heard the Four Lads sing “No Not Much” or “Moments to Remember.” Or Johnny Mathis singing “Chances Are” or “It’s Not For Me To Say.”  Remember Elvis’s rendition of “I Believe?” All of these songs were written by Al Stillman (1908-1979), the last being a collaboration. And, though you’ve likely heard all of them, I believe chances are (attempt at humor) you’ve most recently heard this one from the prolific songwriter: “Home for the Holidays.”

Stillman wrote the song, which became a hit for Perry Como, in 1954. 
“Home for the Holidays” reflects a changing America.  Only a few decades before, it wouldn’t have made a lot of sense.

I met a man who lives in Tennessee
And he was headin' for Pennsylvania
And some homemade pumpkin pie
From Pennsylvania folks are travelin' down
To Dixie's sunny shore
From Atlantic to Pacific, gee
The traffic is terrific

Thanks to Henry Ford and Billy Durant millions of Americans owned cars prior to WWII.  Roads were better than ever but not everywhere.  Even the famed Route 66 was not fully paved until 1938.  Then, too, 1929 brought the Great Depression, curtailing much leisure travel; most people just didn’t have money.  Folks sometimes did hit the roads—such as they were—to find work.  (Remember the Joads in The Grapes of Wrath?)  My parents’ families moved from rural Missouri to Greater St Louis lured by the promise of work.  Of course, during the war—which helped end the Depression—gasoline was rationed.  There were no long trips unless someone pushed you.

The prosperous post-war years and more comfortable cars encouraged travel. Although the Federal Aid Highway Act of 1956 had not yet created what is now called the “Dwight D. Eisenhower National System of Interstate and Defense Highways” or the Interstate System, travel was easier than it had been.  Still, the roads from Pennsylvania to “Dixie’s sunny shore” were probably two-lane, hence the traffic being “terrific.”

Above all, Stillman’s song reflects the scattering of America.  To a degree, this wasn’t new.  From the nation’s beginning, Americans left family behind to move westward; yet finding three or four generations of family members living “a stone’s throw” from each other was still commonplace, though that was beginning to change.  One of the sixty-something men in my church in Texas lived in a home about 200 feet from the house where he was born, a house on land his grandfather had first farmed.  When I left the area in 1992, his daughter lived in Chicago and his son lived miles away with no intention of farming. 

Once, sons, daughters, and grandchildren typically lived just down the block or across town; now they sometimes live thousands of miles away.  Thank heavens for Skyping but it’s not the same as being able to catch a lively granddaughter as she comes down a slide or share M&Ms with a grandson who enjoys chocolate and just being with you. 

If you live close enough to parents, grown children, and grandchildren to see them regularly, treasure that privilege.  If you can only see them during the holiday season, I have a bit of advice:  Don’t Be Stupid!  Would it help if I put it in a song?  How’s this?

DON’T BE STUPID

(To tune of “Clementine.”)

Don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid, all throughout this Christmastide,

Hold your tongue, watch your manners; let your conscience be your guide.

‘Tis the Season, ‘tis the Season, ‘tis the time for peace and hope;

So, don’t you dare; oh, don’t you dare; yeah, don’t you dare be a dope!

Do not fight with Uncle Joe-Bob ‘cause of what he thinks of Trump;

If you mess up Christmas dinner, guess who really is the chump?

Watch some football, if you need to, just to have a little fun;

Or better still, go out the door, build a snowman with your daughter.

No, that doesn’t seem right. I’ll just leave the song writing to the likes of Al Stillman.

What about those relatives who forget Jesus is the reason for the season?  That’s tough, of course.  Clichés probably won’t get through to them.  I wish just reading the Nativity story guaranteed those hearing it would be converted.  That simply isn’t the case.  Of course, it’s always appropriate to say a good word for Jesus—but sometimes the best word is silent.  A maxim often attributed to Francis of Assisi says, “Preach the Gospel at all times and if necessary use words.”  Although it’s likely Francis never said it and likely Francis, along with most Christian thinkers, knew the gospel cannot be fully communicated without words; it’s also likely he would have agreed with the fundamental sentiment: Words mean little if they are not backed up by life. 

So, if you lose it when Aunt Mary forgets to bring the green bean casserole or both Aunt Mary and Aunt Ducky bring that popular dish so now there’s no homemade pumpkin pie, you can expect a few snickers when you try to turn the after-dinner conversation to the Prince of Peace. 

If you have family members who feel there’s no place like home for the holidays, be glad.  I know people who would rather eat Spam sandwiches made with stale bread than sit down to eat with their brothers and sisters.  So, laugh together, weep together, reminisce together; take a selfie or two with the new niece or nephew.  Hug your grandchildren—maybe even talk to them.  Know that, if you invite Him, the One for whom there was no room in the inn will be a secret guest at your table.