The Christmas Song

In this episode - The Christmas Song . . .

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
Jack Frost nipping at your nose.
Yuletide carols being sung by a choir.
And folks dressed up like Eskimos.

Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe.
Help to make the season bright!
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow,
Will find it hard to sleep tonight.
They know that Santa’s on his way.
He’s loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh.
And every mother’s child is gonna spy.
To see if reindeer really know how to fly.

And so, I’m offering this simple phrase,
To kids from one to ninety-two.
Although it’s been said many times, many ways.
Merry Christmas to you.

"The Christmas Song" (commonly subtitled "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire") is a classic holiday tune that Mel Tormé and Bob Wells wrote. It was first penned in 1944 during a sweltering hot summer. The songwriters were trying to escape the heat by imagining wintry scenes. Mel Tormé jotted down the lyrics in about 40 minutes while Bob Wells crafted the music.

The song was first recorded in 1946 by Nat King Cole. However, Bing Crosby's version, recorded in 1946 and released in 1947, truly popularized the song. Crosby's velvety voice and warm delivery instantly resonated with listeners, making his rendition one of the most adored versions of the song.

Crosby's iconic “The Christmas Song" recording was performed with the John Scott Trotter Orchestra and the Ken Darby Singers. It was initially released as part of the album "Merry Christmas," featuring another of Crosby's famous Christmas songs, "White Christmas." The song became an instant hit and has since become a holiday classic, played extensively during the festive season. Its nostalgic, cozy lyrics and beautiful melody evoke the warmth and joy of Christmas traditions for many people worldwide.

I’m Patrick Ball. Merry Christmas! See you in the next episode.

Comments

Paris – the End of Silence

✈️ In this special episode: Paris – the End of Silence Sometimes, connection arrives in the most unexpected form—not through grand gestures, but through a quiet voice carried by technology. In a Paris apartment, I finally understood my family’s words . . . and felt my mother’s presence in every sentence. Since I was a little boy, France has been both a beautiful and frustrating paradox in my life. Every six to nine years, my mother, Mauricette, would take my brothers and me back to La Rochelle to visit our French family. The moment we arrived, the air would fill with a sound I loved but couldn’t share in—the rapid-fire, musical rhythm of French. My aunts, uncles, and cousins would warmly sweep me into hugs and kisses, their words flowing like a lovely melody I couldn’t quite catch. I’d smile brightly, trying to communicate with my eyes and hands. But as soon as we stepped off the plane, my mother and her sister-in-law, Joséan, started talking animatedly. They were gone, chatting h...

Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment

In this episode, Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment. Sometimes love waits half a century for its moment — and when it finally arrives, time doesn’t stand still; it disappears. The moment I stepped off the train in Nantes, it felt like time froze. There she was — my cousin Michèle — waiting on the platform, arms waving desperately. When we finally embraced, the fifty years that had passed between us disappeared in an instant. The melody in her voice was the same, but softer than I remembered. We both shed tears of joy that only come from love long overdue. “I’m so happy you are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Thank goodness for the translation app on my phone, because the conversation began immediately — fast, fluid, and unstoppable. The Frenzy of Catching Up As we drove for about an hour to the tiny town of L’Épine on the Island of Noirmoutier, the words kept tumbling out. Michèle and her husband, Alain, are the most gracious hosts — but my new challe...

Patience – the Only First-Class Ticket

In this episode, Why Patience is the Only First-Class Ticket They say travel broadens the mind. After eight days sailing the Rhône with 140 fellow luxury vacationers, I can confirm it also tests patience, calf strength, buffet strategy, and one's tolerance for people furious that France insists on being French. Don't get me wrong—I adored this trip. The river shimmered like liquid optimism. The villages looked hand-painted. The pastries could negotiate world peace. But somewhere between Ship Horn Hello and Bon Voyage, we'd inadvertently boarded a floating behavioral research study disguised as a holiday. Our ship was less a cruise and more a ferry for the Sailors of Status. ⌚ The Wristwatch Wars Some passengers approached relaxation like yogis. Others treated leisure like a final exam with extra credit. I came to believe certain luxury watches emit ultrasonic signals that only their owners can detect. A frequency calibrated to trigger rapid movement toward any line forming...

Our Journey to Avignon

🇫🇷 Lost in Transition: Our Journey to Avignon (Part 1) When everything that can go wrong—does—sometimes grace still finds you. Our Monday morning trip began on the quiet island of Noirmoutier , where salt marshes and sea breezes whisper of simpler days. From there, our early morning drive was uneventful; we arrived at the Nantes station with plenty of time to spare. From Nantes to Paris Montparnasse, everything went smoothly—so we thought, until it didn't. That's when things started to unravel. If you've never traveled the Paris Metro , imagine a vast underground maze pulsing beneath the city—corridors twisting into one another, trains roaring in and out of the dark, staircases that rise and fall like riddles. It's efficient, yes—but only if you know where you're going. We had over an hour and a half to make our next train to Avignon —plenty of time. Or so we believed. We needed to reach the Gare de Lyon station, where our TGV (high-speed train) was headed south...

On The Fly

Search This Blog