Hail thou ever-blessed morn, hail redemption’s happy dawn — sing though all Jerusalem, Christ is born in Bethlehem . . .

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It’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you . . .

“I,” said the dove from rafters high, “I cooed him to sleep so he should not cry. We cooed him to sleep, my love and I. I,” said the dove from rafters high.

We must never forget that Christmas, at heart, is about wandering from house to house looking for free drinks . . .

I bought my copy of this at a small “variety store” in Concord, New Hampshire. It was one of those once-common places that sold newspapers, candy, cheap toys and novelties — including LPs on a little rack that held ten or so records.

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Along with Dylan and Sinatra, the greatest voice of our lifetime.

Goodbye, Dave Brubeck — you were cool.

Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother, and in His Name all oppression shall cease . . .

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