Yes, I'm grinching it up the day before Christmas. Deal with it.
Now, don't get me wrong, I fuckin' love Christmas. I do. Not even angry people can resist trees, ornaments, candy canes, gaudy light displays, people being around 5% less mean than usual, the birth of the baby Jesus, (you thought I wasn't gonna put him in here. I know what Christmas is about. Don't doubt me ever again) the annual worldwide lie to kids under 11 about the existence of Santa Claus, the holly, the ivy, jingle bells, and forced family bonding. And nothing puts you in the mood for all of the above like some good old Christmas music. I have to give a big shoutout to the radio stations that play 24/7 Christmas music during the holiday season (as long as they start after Thanksgiving.) I see what you're doing, 106.7, and I applaud you for it. However, playing Christmas music nonstop for a month gets difficult, and every so often, they'll throw in a song for variety's sake that makes you go: "Really? Someone recorded that? On their Christmas album? To make people happy about Christmas?" There are some "Christmas" songs that just make you feel weird and uncomfortable, like you and Christmas have been violated.
The other night I was jamming to the Christmas tunes on my way to work, and this came on. Go ahead, listen for a little while. I'll wait. If you're lazy, look up the lyrics. Still waiting, take your time........
Aaaaaaaaaand we're back. First things first, let's point out that this song is by a gentleman named Dan Fogelberg. Um...okay, I know we're PC and everything, but Mr. Fogelberg, I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess you're celebrating Hanukkah. I know there's a lot of pressure to have a Christmas album out, but it's okay to say no, especially when we get a sketchy number about an awkwardly sexually charged encounter with an ex-girlfriend (or "old lover," as he puts it, which is even weirder, as it implies a no-strings-attached hookup from college or something. TMI.)
So he sees this chick in the grocery store on Christmas Eve, and they decide to go knock back a few at the bar. Why are both of you shunning your families to get hammered with your old fuckbuddy on Christmas Eve? Won't her kids say, "Daddy, where did Mommy go? We have to make cookies for Santa!" Like, how can you just break your kids' hearts like that? And then they can't find an open bar. What a fucking shocker, it's Christmas Eve, everyone else is home with their families. Normal course of action: bars are closed, go home. It's a sign. You guys are not supposed to kick it tonight.
But no, what do they do? Buy a six pack and drink it in her CAR. Okay, the buck stops here. That's fucking weird. Not to mention, she tells him she's married but she doesn't love the dude. Did anybody else think they were gonna throw on some Luther Vandross and do the bumpty bump in the car? No? Just me? Allllllrighty then. Regardless, at the end of the song when she drives off and the snow turns to rain, your reaction isn't "YESSSSSS, LET'S HANG SOME STOCKINGS AND TRIM SOME TREES, MOTHERFUCKER!!" It's, "Wow, that was depressing...and weird...I kinda just wanna get in my bed and cry." Thanks, Fogelberg.
[Update: Dan Fogelberg died nine days before Christmas in 2007, of prostate cancer. I'm going to hell.]
Another one that you probably know is "Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime." Why did Paul McCartney, who I would say knows how to write a song or two, decide to go with some weird synthesizer shit? It's annoying, and makes me think of the mean futuristic neighbors in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. See for yourself. Doesn't it seem like they would listen to weird synthesizer Christmas music? Yes, it does.
The last Christmas song to draw my ire is the classic grotesque favorite of sadists everywhere, "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer." Why did this ever catch on? Why are we singing when grandma is dead? If you like this song, go ahead and think of your poor grandmother every time you gleefully sing the refrain. Not so fun, now, is it? No, because now you're making fun of your grandma's untimely death at the hands (or hooves, as it were) of Blitzen, who is probably under a lot of pressure from Santa to make it to your house anyway because you're such a spoiled brat. So in reality, it's your fault that grandma's dead. But keep singing, really, because what's funnier than dead old people at Christmas?