This is the seminal holiday text of my childhood. Between this, and the other rousing family favorite, "Good King Sauerkraut looked out, On his feets un-e-ven...", it's incredible that I'm able to correctly spout the words of any Christmas carol. My father was a classics scholar and, therefore, singing the Anglicized "O Come All Ye Faithful" was strictly verboten. It was "Adeste Fideles" or nothing. So, here's to Richard B. who, if he were still here among the living, would be ninety-eight next Thursday. I raise my glass (preferably with a Gibson in it) to dear old Dad, with his bespoke suit, his old school tie, and his fedora. A "Mad Men" original. They just don't make 'em like that any more.
Oh, yes, and while you're at it, put this on the stereo, too.
Merry Christmas....1963.
No comments:
Post a Comment