Beer and football VII — week fourteen

The game: Ravens at Patriots
The beer: Northampton Conundrum Black Lager
The result: Win, 30–23
The commentary: It's always satisfying to beat up on the Ravens. This was a blowout all the way—those fluky fumbles had me emailing my dad the next day with an understated "It would have been a tough one to get over if the Ravens came back to win"—and Terrell Suggs's "You better hope you [don't? di'n't? ain't?] see us again!" warmed my heart. They learn nutrition at the NFL level and post-loss brattishness from John Harbaugh.

This past weekend was an early Christmas all over. On Saturday we drove—and drove—to Springfield for the "Bright Nights" spectacle we missed out on two years ago, with the rage and the disappointment. A late start reversed the agenda and Springfield was stop number one, in order to avoid the traffic that crippled us last time. It still took awhile and probably wasn't worth it but it was satisfying—as in realized—nonetheless. Never again, likely, but anything is better than having to tell G. "No." Dinner at the Northampton Brewery followed and then the girls went to Thorne's Marketplace while I split to sell more CDs at Turn It Up and buy a few bombers from Provisions, discovered during a summertime 2013 visit. It's a great town and I miss it—déjà vu and so on. (Little did I know that Shea McClellin would leap over the center to block a field goal on Sunday like Jamie Collins did two years ago. On the same weekend!) Again with the familiar looking-for-a-parking-space loops and the clean air and the old coots, this time at Turn It Up where one couldn't stop raving about the Stones' new Blue and Lonesome. Man, I was born just in time for them to suck forever.

On Sunday afternoon we finally got a Christmas tree and it's my first real one in forty-two years. Oh, the days of inserting color-coordinated "branches" into matching slots. It's still a little too tall and I remain surprised by the amount of sap it produces but it looks and smells great. Perhaps I'm converted. I'll just need to remember to ask the guy to take a few more inches off the stump next year.

Since real trees don't come pre-lit like, you know, something from a box, we had to shop for lights. At Target I found a nice Frozen-esque light blue, which was labeled "cool white" on the box for some reason even though the sample display so clearly shone blue. Well, they are actually cool white. Oh well, they're a huge improvement over the omnipresent pale yellow that passes for "warm white." Speaking of warm white, A. picked up some of those warm white LED window candles a few weeks ago. She cleaned Target out of their last six, leaving us with two undecorated windows on the side of the house that looked neglected. Cue Lalo Schifrin because finding numbers seven and eight was Mission: Fucking What the Fuck! After checking all the local Targets and learning that their website's location-specific "limited availability" translates to "jack shit" I resigned myself to ordering online.

Days later I receive this cursed email: "Something from your order has been canceled." Indeed, even the cloud or wherever Target.com stores their wares had limited availability. Drag. So we received one instead of two and that's almost worse than zero. The house and its symmetry was compromised and it bugged the living shit out of me until obsessive compulsiveness and a phone call rewarded me. I asked A. "Is it crazy if I go to New Hampshire tonight to get a candle?" and justified the forty-minute drive by reasoning that it takes twenty to get to "our" Target and, hey, twice as long is only twice as long. (Plus: cheap alcohol.) Accompanied on 95 by those Around the NFL bastards who propped up my hopes a few weeks ago I was relieved to finally obtain the elusive fucker—I bought other stuff we needed too, give me a break—but didn't let myself exhale until I got home, loaded it with (three double-A!) batteries and switched it on. I won this round and hopefully will have forgotten the entire affair this time next year when we bring the Christmas shit up from the basement and the candles are busted. Goddamn Philips.

Lots of driving and decorating means lots of Christmas music! Feliz Navidad, baby!

1. Bert – All Dressed Up
We must have listened to this ten times over the weekend. The version you can buy—or stream, or whatever you leasing youngsters prefer—strips out the dialogue for some reason and, therefore, a lot of the context. Between that last "galosh on my head" ("galosh," I love that) and "gloves on my ears," the Sesame Street Orchestra stretches out for ten seconds before everyone returns with "all the clothes on the right places." What happened during those ten seconds? If you watch the clip you'll know that Bert goes all "Fuck this shit!" and sets everyone straight, otherwise it's a beginning and an end without a middle. Luckily I know how to rip from YouTube.

2. Hep Stars – Christmas on My Mind
Collected on the improbably named Santa's Got Soul, as if Sam Cooke and the Impressions were also contributing. I guess Percy Sledge counts but Jeffrey Speight does not, particularly considering the subtitle "A Groovy Collection of Rare Soul and Psychedelic Rock Christmas Songs." Right. Sweden's own released Jul Med Hep Stars ("Christmas With the Hep Stars") in 1967 and most of it is lousy, but "Christmas on My Mind" is sped-up Farfisa joy.

3. Leslie West – Silent Night
The unrealized solution to a fragile, selfish, Cream-disintegrating Eric Clapton plugs in exactly halfway through his instrumental "Silent Night" and reminds of my midlife crisis collecting dust. I should sign up for guitar lessons already.

4. He 5 – Jingle Bells/In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida
Korean rock from the 1969 album Merry Christmas Psychedelic Sound. A minute forty of "Jingle Bells" followed by a sort of "My Girl" bridge, nine minutes of the jam and drum solo from "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" and a couple of premature (and ignored) "One, two, three, four!" count-ins before closing with a "My Girl"/"Jingle Bells" reprise. The greatest gift of the young holiday season.

5. Pilgrim Travelers – I'll Be Home for Christmas
Four volumes of Blues, Blues Christmas are waiting for you so go to your local library, sign up for a Freegal account, log in and download five songs a week for free. It will only take you eight months to get all one hundred seventy-six songs! Make the wonderful "I'll Be Home for Christmas" one of the early ones, for nothing captures the holiday season better. (Just don't check out The Dark Half. I wish it were The Dark Half As Long. Har! Har!)

Up next: The Patriots travel to Denver because the Patriots always travel to Denver. Cheers!