July 31st, 2004

ANNE MURRAY ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIRE: 

THE HELLISH MEMORIES OF CBC HOLIDAY SPECIALS OF CHRISTMAS PAST

Growing up in Canada, my mother somehow forced the family to watch Anne Murray's annual Christmas special every Christmas on CBC. For those friends from south of the border, Anne Murray was a seventies female crooner in the style of Barbara Streisand or Karen Carpenter - only more lackluster - much like Toni Tennille or Debbie Boone (okay...okay...I stole that reference from "Headwig and the Angry Inch". I won't claim it as my own). The East coast songstress is most famous for her international hit song "Snowbird" and the remake of "Daydream Believer". Anyhow, she's very much like Martha Stewart - good and wholesome looking but you know that deep down in her soul of souls she's an evil bitch. The CBC, in the meantime, is the "Canadian Broadcasting Company" which is 100% Canadian content media. CBC radio is probably some of the best radio broadcasting in the country, but the quality of the television is questionable. I mean, it introduced the world to Kids in the Hall, but it also brought Beachcombers into our homes for nearly twenty years. I mean twenty years of a Greek gino and a stoned Native kid going out and collecting logs... and that was all it was about? They call that entertainment? Well... that's debatable.

Anyhow, these Anne Murray Christmas specials were something unlike anything ever seen before. Anne and her spunky, happy group of friends, who were obviously hired,  would sit in some studio somewhere in a set pretending to the Maritimes and sing songs for about an hour with a bit of dialogue between songs. Then, of course, Anne would have special guests. I remember figure skating champion Elvis Stojko was on one Christmas special. The way Stojko was introduced was possibly one of the worst set ups I ever saw on television in my life.  Anne Murray is sitting around with a bunch of kids, after singing a medley of Christmas songs with them, and she begins to ask the  children what they want to be when they grow up. One kid answered he wanted to be a doctor. Another said that he wanted to be a fire fighter. Another answered she wanted to be a pilot. The final kid answered that he wanted to be a figure skater. BAM! There's your build up for Elvis Stojko's introduction. Of course, I'm sitting at home wanting to slit my wrists knowing that the child wants to be a policeman or a boxer or a taxidermist or something and he was prompted to say figure skater. Who were they trying to fool? What five year old boy wants to be a figure skater? You get beat up in the playground for admitting that kind of thing.

I also remember that the Barenaked Ladies appeared on one special as well. Mind you, this was around the time that they put out "I Was Born On a Pirate Ship" and before their big break in the United States. The boys were definitely at the part of "Behind the Music" where their career was falling apart right before they regroup and become big stars. I bet they still consider the Anne Murray special to be the lowest point of their career.  I would consider it mine.  Hell, I'd probably consider hanging myself before I would go on an Anne Murray Christmas special.

However, the absolute worst - and I mean worst - moment in television Christmas special history - which still haunts me to this day - was when Anne Murray and "Growing Pains" star Alan Thick sang a duet of Winter Wonderland. That, friends, is the reason that there are suicides every Christmas. It's people trying to get that memory out of their head forever. It defiled the holiday - believe me.

I don't think they make the specials anymore - which is a good thing. My children will never have to face the horror of Anne Murray. I'll just feed them a healthy dose of Rudolph, Charlie Brown and the Grinch.  However be warned, these specials are available on DVD.  If someone pulls one out at your next holiday get together, run, dear friends.  Run for your life and don't look back.  I never want you to become as scarred as I have.

 

All content copyright Sam Tweedle 2006.