Seriously, I was trying to sleep in for a while after Morning Edition, but dude just kept going. Meh. At least if the tune's epic grandeur got really, really grating well before the thirtieth time the theme rolled back around, I suppose its minor-keyed foreboding aligns with my feelings about Christmas better than, say, "Run, Run Rudolph," or all those upbeat numbers about snow. (I haven't determined yet whether happy songs about blizzards make less sense in Texas, where this year's holiday low will be a brisk 60 degrees, or Upstate New York, where nine months of winter result in a decidedly less-than-joyous populous. Did Bing Crosby have a coke habit or something?)
In any case, it's been quite some time since I posted, so I wanted to take a moment to wish you and yours a quick and painless Christmas. May there be enough alcohol on hand to survive whatever strange manifestations the Curse of Jesus's Birth visits upon you this year. With a refrigerator full of beer and a warm, sunny tomorrow bereft of traffic, I think I'm gonna enjoy this one in spite of myself.
Perhaps at this point you're already nibbling on your fingernails, thinking about the uniquely yet universally depressing stretch of time between December 25 and January 1. If so, I can't promise you relief from the holiday blues, but I can promise you that my Favorite Reads of 2008 are just around the corner, and that I'm going to make my inexcusably small literary intake up to you by gettin' all in-depth on that shit. Should you find yourself completely crippled by seasonal affective disorder at the dawn of 2009, at least you'll know of a few good books to shut yourself in with.
Anyhoos, averse to tradition as I may pretend to be, I've got some of my own, and there are a few sparsely-populated watering holes calling my name right now. Merry Thursday to all, and to all a good night.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
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2 comments:
thank you for the longest parenthetical break of the season, you hooker. glad i'm cold and alone, rather than the alternative.... ask me later...
John Aielli has ten million versions of every song relating to every holiday, weather condition, and not so special event, and he will play them one after the other at any opportunity. He needs to quit it already. Ricky and I have a blood feud with him - it predates my Wheatsville tenure and I don't know how far back it goes for him.
Enjoy the day off work:)
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