From Coney Island to the Sunset Strip

Written by

Louis Armstrong & The Commanders – Cool Yule

Christmas is rubbish. We’ve touched on this lightly. Well, Daniel did. He didn’t particularly say it was rubbish, just demystified maybe. I loathe the holidays. Family feasts and forced bloodline conversation. “Oh, how’s Aunty so-and-so? Still taking those arts and crafts classes?” Alright, I don’t have an Aunty that does arts and crafts but I betcha some people do. And I bet you a few people hate this fucking time of the year. Bright lights and decorations and hordes of presents that everybody knows – yes, even children – come from the pockets of nine-to-five drones looking to meet the expectations of those around them. We trade material goods for company. Bring drinks and converse!

But maybe Louis Armstrong can make me feel better about it all. That grumbling voice sounds so goddam pleasant, doesn’t it? As if you’ve heard it before, as if you know it well. Maybe it’s that familiarity that warms the heartsichords and douses your skin in hope. [Buy a bit more. Fuck.]

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