Fa La Blah Blah Blah

This is about the time of the holiday season when I reach my maximum capacity for holiday tunes.

I've heard countless renditions of the secular classics, including (but not limited to) Silver Bells, Jingle Bell Rock, Twelve Days of Christmas and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Plus the religious carols, a la Silent Night, The First Noel, Little Drummer Boy and Joy to the World. Not to mention all the latter-day classics: Lennon and McCartney with their respective holiday cheer; Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas, and, who can forget (no matter how hard they try), George Michael crooning Last Christmas.

I will admit to having a nostalgic soft spot for the music of my childhood. Alvin and the Chipmunks still rock my world. Mitch Miller and his sing-alongers are still welcome. And I enjoy a little Bing, a Little Rosemary Clooney, a little Mantovani.

And yes, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas still makes me teary.

Music has always been a memory trigger for me. Which is generally a good thing, particularly at this time of year. I envision my mom's handiwork on the holiday decorations. Dad wrangling the live Christmas tree into position, murmuring expletives under his breath so as not to corrupt young minds (ha ha), trying to position the tree so the best part was in the front. And six of us decorating the tree, arguing over the aesthetics, the older ones re-hanging ornaments that were too close together or unclumping tinsel clumped by us younger sibs.

My dad, sitting in his chair, sipping a hot toddy, the room lit only by the lights from the tree. The fake cardboard fireplace. The little trees on the "mantel" that spun when the lights inside them warmed, casting patterns onto the wall. These are the images that holiday music evokes.

Hmmm...I suppose I can put up with the holiday noise for another couple of weeks.

But please, no hippos for Christmas. Or dogs barking out Jingle Bells. Or grandmas being run down by reindeer.

Must be Santa. Santa Claus.