Fairytale of New York is one of our favorite Christmas songs. Mrs. Roadhouse and I make a point of listening to it every year at Christmas as we drive from Chicago to Kansas City to visit the relatives. It makes us laugh, it makes cry, it takes us back to a hopeful time in our youth*. And it reminds us, no matter how tough things get for us, we've never been as miserable as the two sorry old geezers in the song.
I didn't know the origin story of the song, but in reading it, nothing surprises me about its beginnings.
For those unfamiliar, here's a link to a YouTube video that includes the lyrics (WARNING: Some of the lyrics are a bit rough, view at your own discretion): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pv0hlbWpa1w
* The song holds a special meaning for us because we honeymooned in NYC during the Christmas season in 1979. We stayed with a gay friend (actually, the guy who introduced us to each other) who had an apartment in Midtown. We ran out of money about three days shy of our flight back home.
Fortunately, I was a musician and had brought my flute with me on the trip. So there I was, freezing by butt off on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, playing jazzed up Christmas carols while my wife was inside walking the galleries.
I made enough money to get us two train tickets to see my aunt and uncle in Connecticut who loaned us enough money to get us through the rest of trip.
It was the best Christmas of my life.