Twenty Eight Days

It's Thanksgiving.
That means that Christmas music starts tomorrow.
Run! Hide! Save the Children... or not.
I've had sort of a love/hate relationship with Christmas music for most of my adult life. Having been on the radio tends to do that. Every Christmas brings out at least one really bad Christmas song for every couple of dozen good Christmas songs.
There are the obvious bad Christmas songs -"Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" immediately pops into mind, as does the song about something being stuck in the chimney (presumably, old Kris Kringle). And there are the not so obvious, like the dueling Lennon and McCartney tunes "Happy Christmas (War is Over)"(Lennon) and "Wonderful Christmastime" (Paul McCartney's overly cheery little Christmas ditty). Both are good to hear every Christmas season. Once, twice, three times, tops! After that, I tend to cringe.
Amazingly enough, most pop stars seem to do quite well with Christmas songs. Sort of like they have to live up to Bing Crosby's "White Christmas" (a favourite). Sting's version of "The Angel Gabriel" sends shivers up my spine every time I hear it. The Beach Boys' "Little Saint Nick" pops into mind, as does the Bruce Springsteen version of "Santa Clause is Coming to Town" as lovable Christmas tunes.
Christmas performances by the Trans Siberian Orchestra and Chip Davis are usually in the cards as well. Oh, I'm sorry. Chip Davis is better known as C.W. McCall or Mannheim Steamroller depending on your familiarity with his work.
And as far as I am concerned, Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas without Spike Jones' "All I Want for Christmas..." and "Weird" Al Yankovic's "Christmas at Ground Zero", a favourite of mine, a favourite of my children and hated by the previous regime.
Most of all, I am looking forward to just one Christmas song, sung at Church at midnight on Christmas. "Silent Night". The rest of the noise is just that to me from time to time in this coming month. It's a summation and a blessing rolled into one.
Twenty eight days left...