Merry Friggin' Christmas
Well, Black Friday is upon us, otherwise known as the day after Thanksgiving commercial retail gluttony fest. This signals the kickoff of my annual hibernation from chain retail stores. I just really detest going to stores between Thanksgiving and Christmas, as people go collectively out of their minds to go further into debt to buy junk they don't need.
I realize the stores have product to move and accounts to put in the black but trying to shove the commercial end of Christmas down my throat before I put Thanksgiving turkey there leaves me sick to my stomach, frankly. Especially since they don't even bother to say Merry Christmas anymore. Its Happy Holidays. We have to be PC, don't you know. Although I always found it amusing that to be politically correct, we utter the word "holiday" which means Holy Day. Go figure...
I do like traditional Christmas music. You know what I mean, the kind with an organ and a boys’ choir, or maybe some Bing Crosby if I've grown bucolically meloncholy after too much eggnong. And I mean the real eggnog with raw eggs and liquor, not this junk you get at the grocery store. What is really frightening is the hastily recorded Christmas Musak you get at retail stores and as radio filler. I like “Little Drummer Boy,”, but it is truly horrid in the hands of 98 Degrees. A boy band feigning awe at the Christ child while struggling to give emotional depth to “pa rum pa pum pum”? Saints preserve us.
And every Methodist's favorite “Silent Night.” Simple but moving if not taken to corny ends, but nobody told Mariah Carey. For some perverted reason, no one told her that the song done with about a thousand trills, and squeaks audible only to dolphins, should be rated "For (im)Mature Audiences Only." Jessica Simpson’s sexy-nightclub-meets-Betty-Boop rendition of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,” on the other hand is borderline proof that, in the wrong hands, could be used to prove that God is not just. If Destiny’s Child or any other pop tart act simply must dream of a White Christmas, I’d rather they did so in private.
I realize the stores have product to move and accounts to put in the black but trying to shove the commercial end of Christmas down my throat before I put Thanksgiving turkey there leaves me sick to my stomach, frankly. Especially since they don't even bother to say Merry Christmas anymore. Its Happy Holidays. We have to be PC, don't you know. Although I always found it amusing that to be politically correct, we utter the word "holiday" which means Holy Day. Go figure...
I do like traditional Christmas music. You know what I mean, the kind with an organ and a boys’ choir, or maybe some Bing Crosby if I've grown bucolically meloncholy after too much eggnong. And I mean the real eggnog with raw eggs and liquor, not this junk you get at the grocery store. What is really frightening is the hastily recorded Christmas Musak you get at retail stores and as radio filler. I like “Little Drummer Boy,”, but it is truly horrid in the hands of 98 Degrees. A boy band feigning awe at the Christ child while struggling to give emotional depth to “pa rum pa pum pum”? Saints preserve us.
And every Methodist's favorite “Silent Night.” Simple but moving if not taken to corny ends, but nobody told Mariah Carey. For some perverted reason, no one told her that the song done with about a thousand trills, and squeaks audible only to dolphins, should be rated "For (im)Mature Audiences Only." Jessica Simpson’s sexy-nightclub-meets-Betty-Boop rendition of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,” on the other hand is borderline proof that, in the wrong hands, could be used to prove that God is not just. If Destiny’s Child or any other pop tart act simply must dream of a White Christmas, I’d rather they did so in private.
Sorry for the rant, but holidays are about being around family, not people you like. So, as the card so cynically says, "Merry Friggin' Christmas!"
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