Cowboys & Cardigans

I don't know why there were only two Christmas records at our house. Specifically, Gene Autry and Perry Como. The Gene Autry Christmas record is Hollywood Western swing, complete with a fantastic appearance by the glorious and underappreciated Rosemary Clooney. This record reminds me of my dad. It's all Texas and bouncy, and at one point Gene even sings "Santy Clause." The man wrote "Here Comes Santa Claus" and "He's a Chubby Little Fellow." He's awesome. Who else would know that St. Nick lives on Santa Claus Lane? Now, if you don't know about Gene Autry, you're just not 'Merican. Not Texan, anyway. Take this excerpt from his official website: "Known as 'America's Favorite Singing Cowboy', he is the only entertainer to have five stars on Hollywood's Walk of Fame, one each for radio, records, film, television and live theatrical performance (including rodeo)." Take that, Liza Minnelli! He also has a museum in Oklahoma, dedicated to Gene and the singing cowboys. And yeah, it's located in the town of Gene Autry, Oklahoma -- about 12 miles northeast of Ardmore, in the Arbuckle moutains -- despite the fact that Gene himself was born in Texas. He was a war hero, baseball owner, and Saturday matinee idol. He created The Cowboy Code for the little boys who wanted to be just like him: 1. The Cowboy must never shoot first, hit a smaller man, or take unfair advantage. 2. He must never go back on his word, or a trust confided in him. 3. He must always tell the truth. 4. He must be gentle with children, the elderly, and animals. 5. He must not advocate or possess racially or religiously intolerant ideas. 6. He must help people in distress. 7. He must be a good worker. 8. He must keep himself clean in thought, speech, action, and personal habits. 9. He must respect women, parents, and his nation's laws. 10. The Cowboy is a patriot. Yeah. Did you notice #1, #5 and #9? You go, Gene. No coal in your stocking, buddy -- excuse me, in your cowboy boots. Okay, now about the inimitable Don Pierino Como. First of all, my fabulous Uncle Bob looks just like Perry Como and is just as smooth. Second of all, the Man in the Cardigan Sweater was the seventh son of a seventh son, which if you're Italian is as bad-ass as it gets. He's Dean Martin without the sex or danger. Perry is quintessentially my mom's Christmas music. As Catholic and well-behaved as all get-out. Classy, heartfelt and above-all, tasteful. Season's Greetings is the record we had. Aside from the velour-luxe orchestrations and Perry's cognac croon, the two things that rock about this record are "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays" with it's insane chorus of backup singers, and the part where Perry tells the Christmas story. I don't care what anybody says, I need both of these guys at Christmas. I have my own holiday music favorites (more on that later), but these are the songs of my childhood holidays. We'd stack up the records on the old cabinet stereo -- which my mom still has-- and decorate the tree. I'd sing and sing and sing. Granny and Grandpa would come over with presents and nonsense. Dad would read The Night Before Christmas in Texas and molasses cookies would be left for Santy Claus, and all would be right with the world.