There’s only so many ways we can say it: The holidays have not been and will not be the same this year.
The pandemic has made gathering with those closest to us a public health hazard, and beloved community events, like the Phoestivus market in Phoenix, have been canceled.
Christmas is still on — theoretically, anyway. But longtime Valley journalist and commentator Amy Silverman has been struggling to get in the mood. She wrote, "Have Yourself A Merry Little Xmas" to capture her feelings toward this year's yuletide season.
'Have Yourself A Merry Little Xmas'
Look, I’m not gonna lie. This Christmas season has kind of sucked.
I’ve tried to keep my spirits up. After all, I’m pretty good at making the best of a less than perfect yuletide situation.
I grew up in Phoenix. I’ve never had a White Christmas. Around here we tie sad-looking red bows around Saguaro cactus and make up for it by driving around, looking at hideous light displays. It’s the only chilly time of year, but most nights we can’t build a fire because of the bad air.
Also, there’s the small fact that I’m Jewish.
I’ve never let any of it get in my way.
“We celebrate everything in this house!” I tell my husband and kids. My daughter Sophie runs around yelling, “DON’T GET IN MOM’S WAY WHEN SHE’S IN THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT.”
But this year, I just didn’t feel much like celebrating.
We bought the tree, hung the stockings, and strung pretty white lights across the yard. I made pounds of cookie dough and watched a Christmas movie every night for a week.
Nothing. No holiday magic.
I didn’t even want to listen to Christmas music.
Except for one song, my favorite song. It’s been covered dozens of times and each year I play a game, trying to pick my favorite version.
The original, written for Judy Garland to sing in Meet Me in St. Louis, is pretty awesome, of course.
Rosemary Clooney, Coldplay, Bing Crosby, James Taylor – they all do it justice.
So does Kermit the Frog. It’s hard to choose.
But this year, I’ve got a clear favorite. My older daughter Annabelle, who arrived home from college Thanksgiving week with her guitar, was invited to play at a tiny outdoor neighborhood gathering, the only holiday party we’ll attend this year. She played a few originals, a couple of Beatles songs, Rudolph, and closed with – you guessed it.
When the song was written more than 75 years ago, it was criticized as too depressing and altered several times, including for Frank Sinatra’s holiday album, “A Jolly Christmas.”
Annabelle stuck to the original lyrics, and I’m glad. If there’s an anthem for Christmas 2020, this is it.