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Background of the album Santa's Baby

Santa's Baby was such a baby. She was deep in thought, wondering where summer had gone. Although summer had evaporated weeks ago, she had just noticed that days were getting shorter and shorter, darker and darker.

She felt alone and melancholy. While she was enjoying wallowing in her loneliness, a major epiphany hit her smack between the eyes. Not only was summer long gone, but Christmas Time was here. She realized at that very moment, why she was so in the dumps. She had felt that very loneliness before and knew exactly how to remedy it. She needed to go Home for Christmas. She had two days to get there.

Early the next morning, she and her black poodle, Zorro, piled into her Christmas-green Jag and headed for home, traveling faster than reindeer on Dexedrine. When she arrived, everyone was celebrating. The room was Jingle Bell Rocking with everyone having a totally Holly Jolly day-before-Christmas.

The seven-disc player was loaded up with Christmas CDs. Everyone sang the traditional carols, and then........she heard The Christmas Waltz. She closed her eyes and danced with every boy she had ever loved and there had been a few. The entire world was in love. She heard ice crystals crackling in the air outside. She heard the roar of the fire in the gas-log fireplace. Her heart was warm and melty as a gooey, roasted marshmallow.

Then conservative Aunt Sarah said, "I think we should stop and think about what Christmas is all about. Don't you ever forget it's about the day when Jesus was born. You know, back when he was a Bambino." But liberal Uncle Charlie, who always had an opinion, was not to be outdone, so he raised his can of Red Bull and said, "This is the time of year when we need to think of having some doggone Peace on this Earth."

While Santa's Baby agreed with Uncle Charlie about the peace thing, his abrasive personality rankled her. To avoid a holiday hoo hah, she lounged out on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Mesmerized by the flames, she remembered  that wonderful Christmas with her first love. He had given her a beautiful silver bracelet. He gently fastened it around her dainty wrist, and looking into her eyes, he said, "Merry Christmas Darling." Then she saw the faces of all the boys who told her that very same thing on many more Christmas Eves. She thought of everyone she loved and fell asleep on the holly-berry red, micro-fiber sofa.

The next morning, filaments of sunlight penetrated the Venetian blinds, waking her. She heard the bells; the beautiful Christmas Bells. She whispered the words Henry Wadsworth Longfellow had penned in his sorrow during the Civil War. Although she loved the original melody by John Calkins, she loved the version written in 1956 by Johnny Marks a little more. She was intrigued that this Jewish man had written so many Christmas songs. He must have loved Christmas too.

The aromas of Jimmy Dean sausage and chestnuts roasting on some kind of fire wafted into the room.  She offered a little prayer. Wide awake, she felt the presence of everyone who was or had been in her life; all surrounding her. She held out her hand to them and whispered, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." She blinked, and they were gone. She had gone home for Christmas, but only in her dreams.

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