Another Freaks and Geeks Post

Sorry for the Freaks and Geeks overload, but I just finished watching the series again and decided I’m not done writing about it. This is mainly because of how the series ends for its protagonist, Lindsay Weir.

A quick summation of the Lindsay storyline in the finale, “Discos and Dragons,” for those of you who have better things to do with your free time than repeatedly watch an entire television series: Lindsay gets accepted into an academic summit at the University of Michigan for the summer, but after hearing about the competitions and ranking system it involves, she isn’t sure whether or not she wants to go. Mr. Rosso, her guidance counselor, loans her his copy of The Grateful Dead’s “American Beauty” to help get her thoughts straight. Lindsay listens to it, loves it, and talks about it to some deadheads at school who tell her they’re planning on following the Dead this summer for a week and a half once school gets out. Lindsay appears intrigued, and at the episode’s conclusion we find out why. To the peaceful tune of “Ripple,” she boards a bus ostensibly headed for Ann Arbor but gets off at an earlier stop to meet up with the deadheads instead, electing to spend her summer rocking out at concerts instead of matching wits with the best minds Michigan has to offer. She happily boards their VW Microbus, and the series ends.

And I don’t like it.

I didn’t like it the first time I saw it, and I didn’t like it the second time, either. So this time I decided to think about why, if only because doing so made it easier to justify watching the series for a second time. The reason I came up with is extremely self-centered but also accurate and simple: I would never do what Lindsay did.

For most shows I like, this isn’t a big deal. Homer Simpson and I, for instance, have very little in common apart from a fondness for blue pants. The same is true for G.O.B. Bluth, Michael Scott, everyone on It’s Always Sunny, etc., but I love these shows anyway because the main appeal doesn’t lie in how realistic the characters are. It lies in the jokes. In other words, I don’t watch these shows to relate to them; I watch these shows to be entertained. If I see myself in any of the characters, that’s a nice bonus (or, in the case of It’s Always Sunny, downright terrifying), but it’s not essential.

Freaks and Geeks is different. It’s definitely funny (thank you Harold Weir and Bill Haverchuck), but I don’t think you can say that the comedy was what inspired such a devoted cult following for the show. The joke-to-minute ratio is too low, and the interludes between laugh out loud moments are long and, on occasion, pretty agonizing.

The biggest strength Freaks and Geeks has, then, (for me, anyway) is how true to life the characters are. The show isn’t pornographic adolescent escapism in the vein of 90210 or The O.C. It’s grounded very strongly in reality, and reality isn’t always very much fun or consistently peppered with hilarious one-liners. It can be a painful, awkward place—especially from ages 14-18—and Freaks and Geeks reflected that. You didn’t watch this show to futilely long for the glamorous lives of Brenda Walsh or Seth Cohen. You watched it because it was comforting to realize that, while you were dealing with all your insecurities and angst in high school, a lot of other people were, too. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have made a television show about it.

This is what made the finale of Freaks and Geeks so jarring to me. After spending the season relating to the main characters (mostly Sam, but all of them at some point or another) (even the parents) (damn it, I’m getting old) almost too easily, to have it end with the protagonist making a decision that I was far too good of a kid to ever make was a bit unsettling. When I was in high school, lying to my parents about anything was a terrifying ordeal. Lying to them about where I was going to spend a week and a half was completely out of the realm of possibility. And since Lindsay isn’t supposed to do things that I wouldn’t do, the ending of Freaks and Geeks was a bit of a disappointment for me.

Having said that, it did make perfect sense for the character. The major story arc for the series consisted of Lindsay trying to leave behind her identity as a mathlete and trying to decide whether or not she wanted to. She made a clear choice in the finale. The fact that I would have made a different one ultimately just means I’m not as similar to a television character as I thought, which really shouldn’t be cause for frustration.

Anyway, great series. Now, onto Undeclared.

The Quietest Freak

Recently, I’ve been working my way through Freaks and Geeks for the second time and am proud to report that it’s still funny, just in case anyone was worried.

(Quick side note: the fact that Freaks and Geeks lasted for 18 episodes whereas Two and a Half Men just aired episode number 189 is proof that we live in an unjust world. So is the existence of human trafficking.)

By now, the legacy of Freaks and Geeks has been well-documented, given how many people involved with the show have since gone on to bigger and more Muppet-oriented things. This is pretty easy to understand, as it’s clear right from the premiere that the actors in this show were very good at their jobs. However, I don’t think anyone watching in 1999 would have been able to predict that Seth Rogen would become as big of a star as he is.

This isn’t because he’s especially bad in Freaks and Geeks. It’s more that his character, Ken Miller, isn’t given very much to do. Granted, he does get a storyline to himself towards the end of the show's run when he starts dating “tuba girl” Amy Andrews, at which point you start to get a better feel for his strong comedic chops (his conversation with the guidance counselor Mr. Rosso about possibly being gay stands out as particularly hilarious in my mind). But apart from that, he mostly exists in the show to make the occasional wry, smartass comment while the rest of the freaks experience the bulk of the emotional arcs. This was not Undeclared, where he was basically just playing a beta version of the Seth Rogen archetype we all know and love today.

What’s most surprising about this is that, out of all the people involved with Freaks and Geeks, Rogen has become most strongly associated with its Apatowian brand of humor. I don’t think you could call him the biggest star to come out of the show given how famous James Franco and Jason Segel both are, but Franco has recently shifted his focus more towards turning his life into a postmodern, possibly serious art project, while Segel has lately branched out into the aforementioned Muppet and mediocre-looking romantic comedy territory. Rogen, on the other hand, has largely stuck with movies filled with awkward moments (like Freaks and Geeks), hilarious moments (like Freaks and Geeks), and ultimately happy endings (like most but certainly not all episodes of Freaks and Geeks): The 40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, Superbad, Pineapple Express, Funny People, 50/50. I know these aren’t his only movies, but I think it’s fair to say he’s more well-known for them than he is for, say, Donnie Darko.

There are moments throughout Freaks and Geeks where you catch a glimpse of how funny Rogen can be, but by and large the heavy lifting is left to the other actors. It would have been pretty easy to peg Franco and Segel as future stars watching this show 12 years ago, but the fact that Rogen turned out to be the standard-bearer for its style of humor was a pleasant surprise.

Now we just need to get Joe Flaherty more work. He has some of my favorite lines of the series as Sam and Lindsay’s dad.

The Grinch(es) Who Stole the NBA Season

This years playoff baseball was awesome. Even the most ADD, anti-baseball folks had to take a break from sipping their American Pastime haterade. The end of season drama including not one, but two Mets-esque collapses by the Braves and the Red Sox, a walk off Grand-slam, Lance "Beef" Berkman being a boss, and the Yankees losing. All in all, one of the great playoffs I've seen in my lifetime.

Life was good for a sports fan. The NFL season was actually happening, College Football was heading into conference play. Fuck yeah. Football and Baseball are America's two major sports, right (sorry Nascar)? Not only that, but even the MLS was mildly decent! The often mocked little brother of the major sports, the NHL was generating some excitement. Actually, nevermind, no one cares about Hockey until the Olympics or the playoffs.

All of the fans down in fanville were cheering their asses off.

Off in the distance though, alone on Mount Crumpet, the NBA owners, commisioner, players union, and Michael Jordan (yes, even though he is kinda an asshole, he still deserves to be mentioned separately) were plotting.

"We locked them out? How can this be? We took their jumpers and pumpers. Their wizbang-dunkers and clunkers. Their whining superstars, and million dollar cars. Yet the fans down in fanville still cheer. Alone in mount crumpet, this is certainly queer."

Now at this point in the Dr. Seuss epic, we see this happen: "And what happened, then? Well, in Whoville they say - that the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day. And then - the true meaning of Christmas came through, and the Grinch found the strength of *ten* Grinches, plus two!" And thats exactly how I felt when they finally came to an agreement that the NBA season would be returned to the fans. I mean, given, this does not mean you should forgive the NBA for the display of greed, selfishness, and overall anti-spirit of giving they displayed these past few months. But it really was the perfect parallel to the Grinch story, the first games are going to start on Christmas even. Little Cindy Lou can lace up her new Knickerbockers orange and blue for a Christmas slam-kalamazoo. Dr. Seuss himself would be proud.

Now imagine the most evil laugh in the world. That is what this grinch just did. He fooled us all. He came down and sung Christmas carols with us, before slipping ipecac in our eggnog and howling in amusement at the synchronized vomiting of all the fans down in fanville. Chris Paul to the Lakers in a trade that according to all sources was very well balanced trade, makes the most important team in the NBA (the Lakers) a huuuggggeee story for the upcoming season, and sets the Hornets up for a solid couple of years while they rebuild. Kobe and Chris Paul together, sounds about as good as it gets. I hate the Lakers, and I still would love to watch that team (lose to the Bulls in the NBA finals).

But no, obviously that doesn't matter anymore. David Stern didn't veto the trade because it was bad for the basketball teams, he did it because it was bad for the owners pockets. I understand it consolidates star power onto even one fewer team. I understand that was one of the complaints that started the lockout to begin with. But this is supposed to be a professional sport, not some $30 fantasy league where trades can be vetoed like a bill passed through congress (come on, we don't want sports to sink to the level of politics, do we?)

Greedy grinchy NBA owners, tisk tisk. They tried to one up the Grinch. They even vetoed an attempted fix to the first trade to give EVEN MORE to the Hornets that could help them build into an elite franchise.

But you know what? Fuck 'em. I know that they are banking on their fans staying loyal even through this BS, and if I really wanted to get back at them I would just stop being an NBA fan. I mean shit, I live in Lawrence, KS the college basketball capital of the world. And believe me I will follow the Jayhawks like any good Kansan. There. I just won't watch the NBA. What now Stern? I don't need you. Go back to Mount Crumpet, count you dollars and watch me give mine to the NFL and MLB instead..... shiver, sniffle, tear.

I can't do it. I like (dare I say love?) the NBA too much. The drama, the personalities, the douchebags, the trade rumors, the Joakim Noah's, the Brad Miller's, the Glen "I hate you" Davis'. I want you back. No, I need you back NBA. Sometimes the flaws in a person make them likable, just as the flaws in this league, make it so fun. Last years NBA season was awesome. The grinches tried to spoil this one, but hopefully it was a failed plot. Condensed season, back to back to backs, 4 games in 5 nights, 30 games in 50 days. It will be an interesting ride, and I think this season will show that just as the holiday spirit is not about tinsle and dradles, but rather the spirit of family, giving, and cheer; in the end, sports are not about the signing bonuses or hardcaps, but rather passion, comradery, winning and egos.

Please prove me right NBA.

Hugo

"If you ever wonder where your dreams come from, look around: this is where they're made"

Martin Scorsese has produced a film that comes from the bottom of his heart and will become a staple and a standard for children's movies for years to come. I know that I'm more passionate about movies than most, but at the risk of sounding cliched, Hugo is simply magical. Hidden within Scorsese's foray into big-budget, 3D family movies is a love for cinema and their history that seems to burst from the story of little, orphaned Hugo Cabret.

Hugo and his father were once clockmakers and tinkerers, but with his father's untimely death Hugo finds himself alone and searching for purpose. He roams the scaffolding and rafters of the Paris train station maintaining the clocks, constantly tweaking and oiling the cogs and the tiniest levers. In the midst of his realm of steam and iron, Hugo is working to complete an childlike automaton discovered by his late father. He moves methodically, searching for the final pieces to activate his father's machine, hoping for a message from the grave. 

The final component of the mechanical man is a heart-shaped key, which Hugo finds around the neck of Isabelle, the precocious and verbose daughter of the grumpy toymaker Papa Georges. The automaton's revelation leads Isabelle and Hugo on an adventure that ultimately results in their discovery that Papa Georges (Ben Kingsley) is really Georges Melies. A tragic but elegant story of forgotten dreams unfolds in a series of flashbacks through the flicker of a hand-wound camera. Melies, a real-life pioneer in cinema, is shown joyfully creating and directing his fantastical films with this wife and co-star by his side. He then relates how attitudes changed after the Great War and how people no longer had the light hearts for his wondrous pictures. Before his eyes, his precious films were melted down and used to make cheap high heeled shoes, their clatter on the station floor a constant reminder of his failure. 

In real life, Georges Melies was a great filmmaker who had his work and its profits stolen by Thomas Edison and really did end up as a poor toymaker. It was only years after being driven out of business that Melies was recognized by critics and fans alike for his great contribution to cinema. Martin Scorsese has certainly experienced a different career arc and when he is not making great films, he is working passionately at film preservation, including Melies' early work. Scorsese's masterful storytelling has typically come with an R rating, but in Hugo he succeeds in weaving his passion for the history of film into this beautifully designed children's story.  

Visually, the film is stunning. The camera works from a child's angle as much as possible, following Hugo through an iron maze of tunnels, or bumping and shoving through crowds of oblivious adults in the dusty, sunlit station. As the camera follows Hugo through grates and across catwalks, the audience is pulled through a Steampunk wonderland, an industrial jungle where our diminutive hero seems perfectly at home. What attracted audiences to the silent films of the 20's were the "groundbreaking" special effects and gimmicks that directors like Melies used to wow the audience. In a flashback, Scorsese recreates the legendary moment in a Lumiere brothers showing when a crowd dove for cover during a clip showing a train rushing towards the camera. So much has changed in a century, and Hugo's exquisite sets, sharp CGI, and fluid camerawork showcase the best of what movies can be in the 21st century. The silver screen continues to capture audiences, and Melies' words could just as easily have come from Scorsese: "If you ever wonder where your dreams come from, look around: this is where they're made." 

I said earlier that Hugo was magical, and I really can't think of a better word to describe it. Infinitely deeper than the other garbage produced for children (ie Happy Feet 2), Hugo has great depth and beauty that will engage both children and adults alike. The story has a simple but exhilarating emotional appeal to it and I, not typically a fan of kids movies, grinned and laughed my way through one of the best films I've seen in a long time.

It's playful, its fantastic, and I guarantee you will love it

This Post is Pretty Meta

(Note: I originally wrote this in a Moleskine at a Starbucks. It has been reprinted here for your enjoyment)

I’ve wanted to write about the experience of writing at a Starbucks for a while now. I’m not entirely sure why, but I think it has a lot to do with being an effective way of combining my desire to be a writer with my desire to be clever and ironic and self-aware about it (that attitude just seems like a healthy way to protect myself if the whole writing thing doesn’t work out and I wind up working instead as, say, a barista at a Starbucks).

There’s also something oddly refreshing about embodying a stereotype so completely, especially one that I’m already so close to. I’m in my 20s; I own a Macbook and a Moleskine (I decided to perform this exercise in the Moleskine because it leaves no doubt as to what I’m doing. I think the image of someone writing in a Starbucks on their laptop is more well known, but if the whole point of writing in public is to let other people know that you’re writing, a notebook seems much more effective. If you're on a laptop, you could be doing just about anything. The only way anyone would know you’re writing would be if they got uncomfortably close to your screen and stared at it for a while. With a Moleskine, all it takes is a cursory glance for someone to know you’re writing because you can’t use these things for anything else.); I’ve spent enough time in New York to pretend I know a lot about it; I graduated from a small liberal arts college in the northeast; and I really liked Kings of Leon before they were cool. It was only a matter of time before I fully embodied the image of the struggling twentysomething artist, so in many ways it feels like a relief to stop pretending and just dive in.

The part of the experience where I ordered something (ostensibly the reason anyone would come to a Starbucks in the first place) was pretty unremarkable, although I do want to note one thing: I ordered a “small” hot chocolate not because I was protesting the chain’s decision to call its smalls “tall” but because I genuinely forgot they had different names for sizes at Starbucks. But the cashier didn’t make a big deal out of it or even mention it to me. He just put my order through, and then when another employee called out an order for a “tall hot chocolate,” I decided I shouldn’t make a snarky comment if they didn't. So while there’s no denying that calling your sizes tall, grande and venti is pretty pretentious, it’s nice to know that not many people—employees included—seem to take these names very seriously.

Overall, though, the ordering process was extremely uneventful. It took about two minutes, but I’ve already been here for at least 20. In fact, no one here seems particularly invested in whatever they bought to eat or drink, particularly the woman next to me who hasn’t actually purchased anything but has rather just been talking to a friend of hers on Skype this whole time. I wish I was ballsy enough to do that, but I’d feel too guilty coming here solely to take advantage of the free wireless. On the other hand, I have absolutely no qualms about ordering one $2.00 drink and making it last for hours when I know full well I could finish it in under a minute. Judging by the laptop/reading/conversation-to-sip ratio I’ve noticed from most other people here, they feel the same way.

This could be because the European notion of the purchase of a drink being equivalent to the purchase of space in a café has become more acceptable in the U.S., or at least in Starbucks. It would make sense, given that Starbucks is sophisticated, and anything that comes from Europe is more sophisticated than anything that comes from America (exceptions: the hamburger, corporate crime).

It’s also easy to hang out in a Starbucks indefinitely since the contents of your drink are essentially hidden from everyone else. The sides aren’t transparent, and the top is covered with a lid, so unless someone cares enough to squint through your cup’s mouth slit, they’re not going to know whether or not you’re done with your drink. It makes it pretty simple for neurotic people like Woody Allen and myself to avoid worrying about being scorned by other neurotic people like Larry David and myself who think you need to buy at least one thing if you’re going to spend a significant amount of time in a store.

The most glaring observation I've taken from the actual experience of writing at Starbucks so far is that literally no one else gives a shit. They’re all much too concerned with reading their own books, having their own conversations, or talking with their own friends to care about what anyone else is doing. I suppose there’s a small chance that this is a form of silent protest. After all, if people think that those who write in public are insufferable, and if the main reason people write in public is to get others to ask them about what they’re writing, the easiest way to put an end to this phenomenon would be by never talking to anyone who writes in public in hopes of eventually ignoring them into nonexistence. The much more likely reason, however, is legitimate disinterest.

I can’t say that this attitude bothers me. Although it would certainly be nice if the attractive brunette who walked in here a few minutes ago approached me to ask what I was writing about, I don’t really know what I would say. I am pretty sure, however, that it wouldn’t be something so charming and clever that she would immediately start begging me to take her, right here, by the espresso machine. Saying that you’re writing about writing at Starbucks probably wouldn’t make much sense unless you’re talking to a big Charlie Kaufman fan, and I’m still too worried about instantly transforming into a bitter, caustic waiter in Brooklyn to ever utter the phrase “I’m working on a novel.” My answer would most likely be some mildly incoherent self-deprecating comment that could definitely be funny but probably wouldn’t actually answer the question.

I’m not trying to say that, when I write, I don't want anyone else to read it. The whole concept of writing is based on the idea that you have something worthwhile to say, so it’s pretty contradictory to hope that no one ever sees it besides you. But the way you get an audience (I think. I’ve never actually had one beyond a handful of anonymous Internet commenters) isn’t by being so distracted by trying to get someone to ask you what you’re writing about that you never actually focus on writing anything. It’s by…

Well, ok, I don’t know how you do it. If I did, I’d probably be saying this stuff on Charlie Rose instead of the Internet. But I’m pretty sure it’s not by making sure Starbucks stays profitable.

I should wrap up now. My hot chocolate is almost gone.

Real Genius

Yesterday AMC was showing one of my personal guilty pleasures, Real Genius, and I ended up watching it all the way through. I have seen this movie multiple times, but not anytime in the last 8-10 years. It's a silly movie, and it didn't crack me up quite like it did when I was 12, but I still really enjoyed it. Real Genius, made in 1985 amongst the Porky's/Revenge of the Nerds wasteland, is a real unique gem of a comedy that I bet most people my age have never even heard of.

The film opens with Professor Hathaway (William Atherton) recruiting 15-year old prodigy Mitch to attend his prestigious college. The fictitious college is based on a Cal Tech or MIT and the bright but quiet Mitch finds himself surrounded by some of the brightest young minds in America. Mitch, as the new wonder boy on campus, is assigned a dorm room with the former number one, Chris Knight, played by Val Kilmer. Knight has cracked, essentially, and has decided that academia and its pressures take all the fun out of life and he has devoted his efforts to clever pranks and pursuing women. Mitch quickly becomes immersed in difficult, high-stress research and Chris sees a younger version of himself headed for a meltdown. Chris takes Mitch under his wing and tries to teach him about the balance of work and play, with an (slight) emphasis on play. Professor Hathaway has Mitch and Chris working as part of a team to build a laser for the government and he threatens Chris with expulsion if they can not meet the government deadline. This sends the duo into overdrive, and they finish the project only to discover their work is actually to be used as a devastating new weapon. Faced with a moral dilemma and a newly invigorated disgust for Hathaway, the gang devises a plan to disrupt the laser's trial run, thanks to some clever programming and a lot of popcorn.

What really makes the movie for me is Val Kilmer. In a role that I must imagine Ryan Reynolds based his Van Wilder character off of, Kilmer shines as a smooth and cocky king of the nerds. If you don't think Val Kilmer can be funny or that he can't act, give his comedies a chance. He has great comedic timing and there's something about his inflection that makes me laugh. Check out Kiss Kiss Bang Bang with Robert Downey Jr., another oddball comedy favorite of mine where he plays a gay detective, and I challenge you not to laugh.

The film was directed by Martha Coolidge and her sensitive, liberal style allows the characters to really develop into quirky, socially awkward people: the kind you find at real colleges. In an era where intelligence is belittled in favor of athleticism or being popular, movies typically paint the smart kids as losers or stereotyped sidekicks who can't really add anything to the plot. Real Genius instead celebrates this intelligence, painting the teenaged characters as normal (or as normal as teenagers can be) people with special gifts. Real Genius is real comedy, not the typical 'teen flick' string of one-liners about masturbation or bodily waste ingestion. The best parts of the film are found within it's clever, witty dialogue and surprisingly effective and humorous montages. When you watch Real Genius you're getting a good comedy with more depth and heart than you might expect.

100 Greatest Guitarists

Dear Rolling Stone,

You did this already. It was back in 2003. I bought the issue immediately and spent the next few weeks vigorously debating the list’s merits and faults with anyone who was willing to talk about it with me about because, at that age, I really, really liked countdowns. Probably a little too much given that, at one point, I had Vh1’s top 25 pop culture icons memorized. In order. (This has since slipped my mind, but I do remember that Oprah was number 1 and Elvis was number 3, which I still think is complete bullshit. I also thought it was weird that Einstein and Freud somehow made it onto a list that also included Axl Rose and The Rock.)

Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with printing a countdown again, especially if it was popular and successful the last time around. I’m just confused about the changes. Jimi Hendrix is still number one because of course he is, but overall the two lists vary greatly. Not so much in people. More so in the order that those people are in. What happened in between 2003 and 2011, for instance, that made Duane Allman the ninth greatest guitarist of all time instead of the second? Why is Eddie Van Halen now number eight instead of number 70? As a lifelong devotee of The Who, I’m thrilled to see that Pete Townsend has moved from number 50 to number 10, but this doesn’t change the fact that I have no idea how or why it happened.

The easiest explanation—and probably the most accurate one—is that, although these countdowns are fun to talk about and (I assume) fun to make, they’re also pretty arbitrary. Actually, scratch that: they’re completely arbitrary, and they will be until someone comes up with a formula that quantifies musical skill. Every spot on this list is based entirely on peoples’ opinions, and the whole point of opinions is that they can’t be proven right or wrong.

The thing is, though, when you’re talking about countdowns, it’s fun to pretend that this isn’t true. Discussions are much more enjoyable and animated when you’re dealing with a list that presents itself as definitive. However, this is pretty much impossible to do with Rolling Stone’s 100 Greatest Guitarists now that the magazine has come out with two different versions of this list less than a decade apart. It highlights how subjective and seemingly random these choices are, making it difficult to put too much stock in either countdown. This, in turn, makes them relatively pointless to talk about. Why bother starting an argument about Curtis Mayfield being ranked too high or too low when he’ll probably just be in a completely different spot the next time around?

Having said all that, in what universe is Prince a better guitarist than Robert Johnson? I mean, seriously? Come on.

Sincerely,

Eddie

The Definitively Decent Holiday Playlist

Parking lots filled with families debating the merits of Balsam Firs vs. Scotch Pines , people pretending they like eggnog, Rutgers sports collapses, tacky sweaters, and awesome holiday parties. It's that time of year again. I love it, love it, love it. It's hard to explain, but there is something about December holiday cocktails, hanging out with friends, drinking alcohol, and wandering around from here to there, smoking Black and Milds, not even feeling the bitter cold because the laughter and alcohol are warming the air (ok, its mostly the alcohol). To me at least, the music is a vital, and often mocked part of the celebrations. Without further ado, here is a playlist, in no particular order with my TOP 12 HOLIDAY SONGS.


1. Dean Martin: Let it Snow! Starting off with the classic of classics. While I don't think I could listen to this song at any other time of the year, it's hard to beat Dino. The joy of relaxing in front of a fire, and watching the snow march through the sky; wanting to do anything but leave warmth and companionship. That's what this time of year is all about.

2. Robert Earl Keene: Merry Christmas From the Family Hick, slightly racist, promoting alcoholoism, and one of the most accurate representations of Christmas I've ever heard. Let's be real, everyone has faults, and this song does a pretty great job of describing how flawed yet fantastic many modern families are. "Carved the turkey, turned the ball game on, made Bloody Marrys, because we all wanted one!"

3. The Beach Boys: Little Saint Nick Everyone loves the Beach Boys. Their unbeatable harmonies are put too good use in this bad boy. Upbeat, happy, danceable classic that makes me want to make a Christmas decorating montage videos.

4. Weezer: O Holy Night Speaking of montages.... This song/ album will always bring me back to Junior year at Dickinson, in the Poon Palace, cleaning up after yet another delightful slopfest, just to prepare too tear it down again. Good fucking times. I think I listened to this on repeat for about 4 hours at one point. Memories like this make the aftermath of that house almost worthwhile. See photo at top, for why 379 West Louther was awesome.

5. Crudbump: Fuck You If You Don't Like Christmas Must watch. Hilarious Christmas video/ children's book reading about how if you don't like Christmas, well, "fuck you". I understand that Christmas is kinda silly when you really think about it, but damn is it fun. "Fuck you if you don't like reindeer dogs".

6: She and Him: Sleigh Ride Because what in the world could be better than going on a sleigh ride with Zooey Deschanel. Whole album is pretty damn awesome, but this one in particular is really well suited for her voice I think.

7: Jenny O: Get Down For The Holidays Great song that I could actually listen to at anytime throughout the year. Jenny O's voice is epic, and this song does an amazing job of making me remember how much I should be thankful for, and how great this time of years, not for any religious reason, but simply because how it brings people together. "You bring me ice cream, and i'll be apple pie" : )

8: Tim Minchin: White Wine in the Sun Everytime i listen to this song I almost tear up. This guy does such a perfect job of explaining how even to an atheist Christmas time is special. I'd rather break bread with Dawkins then Desmond Tutu, tu be honest." Also, the image of drinking White Wine in the sun with ones family on a midwinter day as perfect. "Some of the hymns they sing have nice chords, but the lyrics are dodgy."

9: Tom Petty: Christmas All Over Again Tom Petty is a boss, and this song is one of his finest works. It makes you realize how no matter where you are in life, come this time of year it is always "Christmas All Over Again". One of the true legends, but although Jake Rainwater and George Mazzoli may disagree, he's not quite on the same level as the next artist.....

10: Bruce Springsteen: Merry Christmas Baby The real Boss, doing what he does best, singing a true banger. "I feel like I'm living, living in paradise." Yup, that about sums up how I feel during this season.

11:Tom Waits: Christmas Card From A Hooker Sad, and I mean like tearjerker sad, if you really listen to the lyrics. In the mumble, grumble storytelling method that only Waits can pull off we remember that the little things are what make this time of year special.

12: Elvis Presley & Martina McBride: Blue Christmas I don't usually like Elvis much, but this song is perfect. Elvis and his southern drawl do a great job of conveying this plea to love lost.