Some people live in places where it doesn’t snow at Christmastime. Some of those people live in places where it doesn’t even get cold. I’ve even heard of some people who live in places where Christmas actually happens in summertime, which is a concept that absolutely floors me and which I refuse to address. And then there are a few people who live in normal places where Christmas is cold and then travel to one of those mystical places where Christmas is warm and somehow still experience Christmas despite their active attempt to escape from it.
I lived in Los Angeles when “Contra” came out. I was in a horchata drinking phase at the time and I didn’t realize until after a few months of listening that the opening line was supposed to be jarring. “In December, drinking horchata?” Cool, me too! Duh you’d look psychotic in a balaclava, why would you even consider that as an option? Winter’s cold **is** too much to ask for, this 50 degrees with rain is killing me.
I always ended up back home for the holiday itself and was reminded every year of how horrible winter actually is, but I can imagine, at least, what it would be like to grow up in a world where the sentiment of “Horchata” is a totally meaningless concept. Discrepancy is so central to my experience of Christmas – warmth, love, and family surrounded by darkness, cold, and terrible traffic. “Here comes a feeling you thought you’d forgotten […] / ooh, how you had it but oh, no, you lost it.” Some places don’t get to feel that every time they drink a seasonally inappropriate beverage. I guess they just find it somewhere else.