Many times, many ways...

This concludes a Monday feature on Christmas songs. 

Legend has it this song was written during a sweltering summer.

Bob Wells wanted to cool off. Mel Torme saw the opening lines scratched on a sheet of paper. Quietly came "The Christmas Song."

Let's not let the facts get in the way of a good story, so we'll go with it.

This is my favorite Christmas song. Always has, always will.

Everybody knows (no pun intended) the 1961 version. Here is the version Nat Cole recorded with his trio in 1946.

Such a song to savor, huh?

Here we are, the holidays upon us, holy cow.

We'll talk again, but just in case:

Although it's been said, many times, many ways, Merry Christmas to you...

The weekend goeth

So it's Sunday night and the weekend is closing down with ease.

The Colts and Titans are tied, the Crimson Tide seems to be having its way with Colorado and I've got Nat "King" Cole on the rad-io, a Christmas present I'm just now enjoying on the hi-fi.

It's one of his original Capitol albums from the fifties, "Songs for Two in Love" or something like that. I'm too lazy to go look. Nat is smooth as silk. You know what I mean.

The liner notes say that Collector's Choice is going to be releasing all of King's Capitol albums, some appearing on compact disc for the first time in the United States. These are classics, essential additions to any collection that claims to know something about American popular music.

The arrangements fit snugly in Nelson Riddle's more than capable hands. Nat had no equal on vocals. He's better than Sinatra, really. But don't tell anybody I said that.

Here he is singing Johnny Mercer better than anyone before or since.

The falling leaves pass by my window...

God, why doesn't anybody sing like this anymore?

I was lazy on this rainy Sunday. Spent the afternoon watching football with a pal in Maryville. It was nice and easy, a good Sunday for a nap.

Now, I guess it's time to start the week, although we'll get one last holiday respite before having to wrestle with 2008 with any kind of seriousness.

Geez. I'll be 30 this year. Where on earth does the time go?

The Sunday Show

Sunday afternoons, if I am home, are often reserved for music.

If I tire of the NFL game of the week or the baseball game or whatever sporting event is being played at a particular point in the calendar year, I'll stay with Jonathan Schwartz's "Sunday Show" on XM. This afternoon, he played a cut from Nat King Cole's album "Sings For Two In Love" early in the game.

Out of a dream, straight into my heart...

Schwartz is treating us today. He's playing Johnny Mercer singing a medley of his own hits, at some forgotten concert at a New York hotel.

Jon says it was 120 degrees that night (the air conditioning wasn't working or something) and Frank Sinatra, also on the bill, was in his shirt-sleeves. He got a tape, he says, because he knew the sound guy.

It's something to hear Mercer sing his own work. Means a little more, you know? This might be the late, great Bill Miller accompanying him on piano. I can't tell.

It's going to be tough to break away to the Colts game at this rate.

Tonight, if nothing happens, I'll meet a dear friend at Barley's about 7 to enjoy dinner and that sweet Appalachian sound. You know what (and who) I mean.

And, if that falls apart, I'll lean back in the easy chair, put "Sinatra Sings For Young Lovers" on the turntable and swing easy into the night.

I love these lazy Sunday afternoons, in case you can't tell.