Essays from West of 98: Maybe Even California
If you have read my weekly essays for a while, you know my favorite Christmas song is Merle Haggard’s “If We Make It Through December.” I have written about it every year that I have penned these essays. I hope my readers do not grow tiresome of this topic, but it is a song that affects me deeply.
In the past, I have told people this is my favorite Christmas song and they often raise their eyebrows. On its face, it does not exactly put a listener in a holly, jolly mood. It is, however, highly relatable. Merle, as the first-person narrator, plaintively relates a struggle of miserable weather, hard times, and worries about making children happy. He just got laid off in a manufacturing job, which was devastating to a man who “wanted Christmas to be right for daddy’s girl.” It is a gut punch when you comprehend what is happening in these lyrics:
“I don’t mean to hate December
It’s meant to be the happy time of year
And my little girl don’t understand
Why daddy can’t afford no Christmas here.”
And yet, despite the overwhelming sadness of a loving parent who is struggling to provide for a child that he loves deeply, the narrator is hopeful. He looks past the hardship of winter and he sees warmth and opportunity ahead:
“Got plans to be in a warmer town come summertime
Maybe even California
If we make it through December, we’ll be fine.”
To a man of Merle Haggard’s generation and with his backstory, “California” represents a powerful type of promise. Merle was born in 1936 in Oildale, California. Oildale is in Kern County, just outside of Bakersfield, where thousands of Oklahomans migrated in search of opportunity after being left destitute by drought and depression on the Great Plains. Merle’s parents had done just that, leaving eastern Oklahoma in 1934. “California” was successful for some migrants and unsuccessful for others, but it represented a promise worth chasing for those who had no hope back home.
As Merle sang of warmth and California, he sang of promise, opportunity, and hope. Truth be told, the lyrics of the song provide no real guarantee that life will actually improve. He does not have a new job. He does not know where he is moving. He just knows that hope remains. As I have written in the past, hopelessness breeds many bad things in life, particularly in our rural communities. Substance abuse and criminal activity are often bred of hopelessness more than a desire for outlaw glory. Hope is one of our most powerful emotions. Without hope, a person can become despondent and make damaging decisions. But like Merle in the song, as long as we have hope, we still have a chance for success in life.
We all know that 2020 has been a trying year. I am not going to rehash any of that, because it has inundated us for months now. But Christmas is approaching and it brings its own set of annual challenges. You may be struggling financially. You might be overwhelmed with life’s obligations. You might be worried about whether you are doing “enough” for your family for Christmas. You might be facing your first Christmas without special loved ones.
We can’t flip a magic switch and erase those struggles. But like Merle Haggard, no matter how bleak our circumstances, we can still have hope. Summer is coming and it will get warmer. Whether it is a new job, starting your own business, advancing your education, pursuing a passion in life, or something else, we can all have our own “California” of promise and opportunity awaiting. Hold on to that hope. Chase it. Bring it to reality. If we make it through December, we’ll be fine.
James Decker is the Mayor of Stamford, Texas and the creator of the “West of 98” website and forthcoming podcast. Contact James and subscribe to these essays at westof98.substack.com.