“Man… how do you go from Johnny Cash to the Cabbage Patch Kids?!”

What can I say… I’m nothing if I’m not eclectic. Does that excuse me from owning A Cabbage Patch Christmas… probably (absolutely, most definitely) not. Is my head held high with the smug satisfaction that I can own any damn record I damn well please? Not really, but look at this cover! I mean, somebody, A TEAM, rather, drew up this idea, had meetings, scheduled a photo shoot where somebody, probably a poor PA was late due to a flat tire and was fired around the holidays. I’m sure there was a costume designer, a set builder, an Executive who complained that the snow didn’t look enough like “East Coast snow” (whatever the hell that means), there were probably lengthy discussions about what song the soulless field babies would sing, if the almost invisible lights in the bush and / or trees should be colored or Plain Jane boring white… and for what?! To sell dolls (read plastic and yarn).

I’ve probably owned this record for several (10 or so) years, and I doubt I’ve ever listened to it. So, as I’m typing this and sucking down my morning brew, my virgin ears are (bleeding) being christened by somebody named Colonel Casey and a bunch of soil born kids, with decent singing ability (embrace it now, kid), as they meander through top 40 Christmas favs. Maybe my aging brain needs another round of hot genus coffea, but I don’t recall the Cabbage Patch Kids having such an outwardly southern feel. Banjos? Really? I mean, I’m all for banjos. I love Primus, but there’s just something about this album and the time it was put out (1984) that leaves me scratching my head (mainly because of an itch).

Alright. That’s it. Is Christmas over yet? No? Well, I hope it gets here soon. I’m running out of Christmas albums…