Have a Cool Yule, Y’all
After decades of listening to Bing Crosby, I have become a connoisseur of obscure Christmas music. Many, many musicians have recorded something seasonal, no doubt for purely wholesome reasons. But they probably all also secretly think, “Man, if this thing goes Mariah Carey on me, I’ll be able to retire to my own island!”
Most of these recordings fail immediately, sadly, and get lost to the dustbin of history. The upside is that the industrious music fan can restock their holiday playlist with completely new and awesome songs like the accordion-heavy “It Must be Santa” by Bob Dylan, “Please Daddy Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas” (two versions—John Denver and the Decemberists [more accordion!]), Oi To The World, a surprising ska anthem from No Doubt, the Eels with “Everything’s Gonna Be Cool This Christmas,” Lady Gaga’s slightly racy “Christmas Tree,” Bootsy Collins’ awesome, funky Dis Christmass, (rivaled, in pure, sweet funkiness, by Bill Withers’ Wintertime). and maybe my favorite, Louis Armstrong’s Cool Yule.
I bring this up because at this time of year we sometimes, when we’re not being mindful of our mental health, get in unproductive debates about “holidays” and “Christmas” and other silly matters. But “yule”—that’s an interesting word.
I think we sort of skate past what a weird word it is, thinking it a synonym for Christmas. Like so much of what goes on during this season, though, yule refers to a pre-Christian celebration. It was a tradition of the Germanic peoples, a festival held around the winter solstice. It was an especially big deal in Scandinavia, where it was icy and dark much of the day. Humans have been around a lot longer than Christians, and that dark, cold, hungry time of the year was no doubt always a big deal for people trying to survive until the next harvest. Yule is just one we know about.
The way pagan and Christian intertwine this time of year has always fascinated me. When people say they “don’t celebrate Christmas,” I always wonder what they mean. In the US, most of what we celebrate has absolutely nothing to do with Christianity. There’s the tree we cut down and haul into our homes—a pagan act if ever there was one. We have all these stories around a kindly fat man who delivers toys to kids. Eggnog, Christmas lights, gift-giving, gingerbread and fruitcake—all of this is cultural, not religious. As I write this, I gaze over my toes at a more recent tradition, the yule log, which crackles on the wall, warming my heart if not my toes. Another tradition in my house (new compared to “yule”) is the bottle of Orval tucked into my stocking—a monastic ale for a Buddhist on Christmas. How’s that for ecumenical?
I was raised in the Presbyterian Church, but drifted away in my 20s. It required no change in my “Christmas” activities. The tree and the nog and the lights and the gifts carried on as before. I don’t even mind wishing people a Merry Christmas—that is actually the name of the national holiday we celebrate tomorrow. Of course, I will joyfully wish you a Happy Hanukkah or Happy Solstice as well, and if you make it a point not to celebrate Christmas, I wouldn’t dream of foisting a “Merry Christmas” on you. One’s heart can be big enough to want their friends and families to enjoy whatever winter celebration is meaningful to them.
And with that, I off the same well-wishing to you, and leave you with some of those “Cool Yule” lyrics (written by, amazingly, Steve Allen):
From Coney Island to the sunset strip
Somebody's gonna make a happy trip
Tonight
While the moon is bright
He'll come a callin' when the snow's the most
And all you cats are sleepin' warm as toast…
So you'll
Have a yule that's cool