I believe in the build-up.
Most of life's best activities are made even sweeter by the anticipation that precedes them. Birthdays, vacations and even hot dates: the unspoken rule is the more time we spend preparing for things, the more fulfilling the payoff.
But there is a line regarding what is and isn't acceptable in terms of building anticipation. And when this line is crossed, my God, does it make me want to throw something.
In this case, it might be a tree ornament.
I love holiday music as much as the next person, but it has no business on the radio until all Thanksgiving turkey has been eaten and fully digested, and even then I greet it with a wince. After 21 years of life, I've grudgingly come to accept December as "Holiday Music Month," but my patience extends no further than that.
And this past weekend, my patience was tested.
I strolled into a local diner looking to cure my headache with a bacon, egg and cheese. What I wasn't expecting was the auditory assault I was about to endure. Instead of the Top 40 tunes that provide the usual soundtrack for my morning-after meals, the opening riff to "Jingle Bells" flooded my eardrums and, quite honestly, set my pulse racing.
It was Nov. 10. That is a solid 12 days away from Thanksgiving and 45 days away from Christmas. As far as I'm concerned, we're still recovering from our Halloween candy comas at this point - must the holiday music begin already?
Now, before you start calling me "Scrooge," know that I am no miser. I grew up celebrating both Hanukkah and Christmas and one of my favorite parts about the holidays has always been the soundtrack to the holiday season.
In fact, one of my fondest Christmas memories involves sitting around a beautifully lit tree with my sister and father, sipping eggnog together while listening to Christina Aguilera's gorgeous rendition of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." That scene for me is the epitome of Christmas cheer and family bonding.
The reality is, though, that I don't think that moment would have been half as special for me if it had been the four-thousandth time I'd heard the song that month. Isn't the point of holiday music to embrace the loving spirit of the holidays? I find it hard to believe that radio DJs are thinking this way when they press play on "Jingle Bell Rock" before Black Friday has even rolled around.
And speaking of Black Friday, I can't help but think that the eagerness to prematurely flood the airwaves with Christmas carols has to do with the money people will spend subsequently.
Think about it: the sooner people hear those songs, the sooner they think of all of the gifts they haven't bought yet. And while it can be argued that radio stations have nothing to gain from this particular situation, their compliance still helps to make holiday music less sentimental.
I'm not against these spirited tunes in the slightest. When December rolls around and the snow starts falling, you'll find me happily sipping hot chocolate to the Drifters' "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas." But until then, let's keep the carols off the air - if nothing else, for the sake of avoiding overexposure.
