My favorite Christmas song is the Pogues and Kirsty MacColl’s “Fairytale of New York.” On Christmas Day last year I was walking up Milwaukee Avenue in Chicago to meet up with some friends. It was early in the afternoon and the sky was empty, and Chicago to me always feels very open and beautiful in that weather. At the time, it seemed pretty certain—correctly, as it turned out—that this was going to be my last winter in the city after almost ten years, because of the realities of the academic job market and the fact that my contract was running out at the end of the summer. I texted my friend Claire to wish her a happy Christmas and she replied to say that she was at home in England and a little drunk and getting emotional listening to “Fairytale of New York,” and so everything was as it should be. I started listening to the song myself and we spoke about it as I walked.
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