As I write this, it’s three weeks until Thanksgiving, and already I’m dreading the Christmas season. But it’s for a different reason this time - I’m not dreading the last-minute shopping, the exhausting family obligations, or the plates of crumbling, fat-laden cookies I will inevitably consume in lieu of real food. No, this is far different.
I'm dreading the Christmas season because I know that, at some point, I am going to hear Bruce Springsteen singing that annoying version of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town."
Why, God, why? WHY did he do it? And why did the E Street Band LET him do it? And could they not at least have come up with a better arrangement? The questions just keep coming. What were they thinking? Or drinking? Or smoking? Or... um, yeah.
It’s just one part of a much bigger issue: Bad Christmas Music.  It’s everywhere, and it's just getting worse. It gets worse because the old songs never die, as if it's sacrilege to put a Christmas song to rest. We keep adding new drivel on top of the old, and the old drivel gets relegated to those 24-hour Christmas stations that crop up in urban radio markets every Thanksgiving. You know what I'm talking about. I'm talking about pop stars doing holiday music. Badly.
The first time I really listened to the carol "I Saw Three Ships" (which was only a few years ago; my family avoided British carols for the most part and I thank them for that), I didn’t think it could be more inane. Then I heard Sting’s rendition - the fact that Gordon takes himself so seriously makes it just that much more revolting. Leave it to him to take inanity to new levels; he did the same thing with yoga.
Likewise from the Theater of the Inane comes Paul McCartney’s "Wonderful Christmastime." If ever there was a song that made you want to take an automatic weapon to a mall, this is most likely it. And the worst part? The song sticks in your head, so you find yourself whistling it as you put gas in the car, as you wrap presents, as you pick your way across a slushy parking lot, as you watch the mini-marshmallows melt in your hot chocolate.... and all you ever know is that one line. "Hope you're having a wonderful Christmastime. Hope you're having a wonderful Christmastime. Hope you're having - "
Ha. Now I've cursed YOU with it, too!
Then of course we have other songs like "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer," "Do They Know It’s Christmas," and, at least in my town, "There’ll Always be a Christmas," a pseudo-poignant ballad sung by one of my high-school friends and co-written by a guy I used to date. (Talk about wanting to take a gun to a mall...) Lumping these songs together in a sentence only seems incongruous for a couple of seconds. What they have in common is this: They are way past their sell-by dates.
Well, hold the phone a second, now that I think of it: "There’ll Always be a Christmas" was written the first time our troops were over in Iraq. We still can use that one. Same country, same problem... yup, same song. Thanks, Bush Family, for saving us the effort of producing a new song this year! See, I just knew this war was good for something! Oh no, I think this means that we’re going to have a resurgence of the line "Merry Christmas over there." Run for cover.
And the others... ouch. "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" has lost its novelty. Admit it: It lost its novelty long ago (that is, assuming it was novel in the first place, and some may argue with me there. Heck, I may argue with me there). And the Band Aid project was noble, but after so many years, it’s lost its power. Our internal conversation as we listen to it has become "Oh yeah, whatever happened to Somalia... or was it Ethiopia..... oh well, it's Africa; someone’s always starving over there. George Michael - what a sicko. Wait, wait, Bono’s coming up... there he is! Hey, wasn’t Simon LeBon in this? Who is Simon LeBon? OK, what else is on..." click.
I’ll tell you what else is on: "Jingle Bark." Once - and I mean ONCE - it was funny. The second time it got aggravating, and by now it’s lapsed into a kind of surreal hypnotic. Same with "Jingle Belch," although it’s more surreal and less hypnotic. You want to change the station, and yet - arm...is....so...heavy....
And speaking of surreal, let’s not even address the David Bowie/Bing Crosby "Little Drummer Boy." It’s beyond words. Let's go straight to John Lennon's "Happy Christmas" - who has never wanted to slug the people who use that greeting? Come on, be honest. We probably won't hear that one this year, anyways, since we're not really sure from day to day if the war IS over - or if there ever was one - or what we're doing in Iraq - or why we can't find a 6'4 Arab terrorist leader on dialysis - but I digress. Christmas is not the time for politics, unless you're a rock star, which I am decidedly not.
Don't get me wrong. I like the holidays. I love the Boss. I even know who Simon LeBon is. But, unlike Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, some things just don't go together. People have to learn when to stop, or in some cases, when not to even get started in the first place.
Now I realize that this topic could be a whole dissertation. Perhaps in future holiday columns (if I bother to write them), I will be able to touch on things such as: Christian metal bands who do Christmas albums; Natalie Merchant, Mannheim Steamroller (not a rock band but equally terrible at the holidays), Christmas medleys, Dave Matthews, Bob Seger singing "The Little Drummer Boy," and many, many, MANY more. So many more. So many more. [Deep breath]. It will all be over in January.
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