But those two songs really resonate with me.
Because my dad once said, in all seriousness, "Son, don't put too much stock in rock-n-roll, because it won't last. It's just tribal music and people will get tired of it and want to listen to real music once again."
When he heard Jingle Bell Rock first played on the radio (and yes I'm old enough to have heard it for the first time it was played) he gave a snort of disgust and said, "That's not real Christmas music! It's not like White Christmas."
Nothing I could say to him would explain that it wasn't written to replace White Christmas. Both songs stand alone on their own merits. But, OMG, how wrong he was.
He also told me, seriously, that religion was invented by women to give them something to do, instead of just sitting around the house.
Okay, stop laughing now!
He did get some things right.
Like, "Son, never volunteer. Especially when the D.I. comes into the barracks and asks for volunteers."
He also taught me how to draw and paint and cut meat. He was a butcher at one time in his life and years ago I surprised my friends by butchering a deer for them. In exchange for the steaks I wanted.
He knew a lot of things I sometimes wish I had learned from him. But mixed it all up with the OTHER things, maybe half-truths, or just plain mistakes, that he believed.
So as the holiday season comes up on us this year and all the other years since his death, it reminds me of my dad. It reminds with fondness and amusement over the man I called dad.
Does anyone else have this kind of memories?
Dennis A. Lederle
Happy THanksgiving!
