"You know what I love about your car?" asked my cute little niece the other night as I was taking her home.
"It always has Christmas music in it."
Er. Hmmm. Is that true?
Yes. Yes it is.
Which means for two thousand five hundred fifty-five days, riders in my minivan have had access to Christmas music. Any old time they wanted. And most of the time they got it, too. For I have a Christmas-music-listening problem. And it is clinical.
See, I don't think that just because a song has the words "Christmas" and "Merry" and "White" in it that you are limited to a specific 25 day period in which to listen to it. That's like saying you can only listen to "America the Beautiful" on Independence Day. Or "Just a Dream" when you are sleeping. "Haunted" at Halloween. Or heck, just about any love song on any day other than Valentine's Day.
If a song has beautiful orchestration, a wonderful arrangement, lyrics that speak to your soul, a vocalist or instrumentalist whose sound lifts your heart all the way back to a perfect day or moment or person in your past, then by all that is snowy, you should listen to it. Often and at will.
Life is riddled with challenge. I need everything I can get to stay upbeat, positive, and happy. Most of the time that means taking the barest glance at the news so I have an idea what is going on in the world without depressing myself. Taking a deep breath and thinking before I speak to anyone about anything (still working on that one). Letting other peoples' moods go–in the same way I hope they'll let mine go when I get all twisted up sideways. And above all, listening to my favorite Christmas music whenever I dingity-dong merrily-well want to.
You tell me that Michael Bublé's "The Christmas Song" wouldn't be a nice way to end a long exhausting day. You could go home, turn the lights off, put the song on, sprawl on the floor with your eyes closed and just soak it up. Or dance with your significant other. Or chill on the couch with some bubbly (which in my case is Martinelli's Sparkling Cider. Yeah. I go for the hard stuff)
Try it now. Close your eyes. Turn your lights down. Take a deep breath and let it out.
Now. Click play.
And by indirect request, here's one that's perfect to cook to:
(Sorry, can't embed. But here's the link)