This morning, as Peggy was making the kids breakfast, she turned on a Christmas playlist we'd put together a couple of years ago. I've been grousing about forced Christmas cheer for the past two months (y'know, when it all evidently starts now), but now that we're into the bona fide season, I suppose it makes sense to give it a whirl. The first song, however, to come trilling out of the speakers was "Last Christmas" by Wham! In a nutshell, this made me want to douse the apartment with gasoline, strike a match and hurl bits of burning furniture out at random passers-by on East 9th Street. Hum-fuckin'-bug!
Mercifully, the next set of selections turned out to be the entirety of It's a Charlie Brown Christmas by the ass-whuppin' Vince Guaraldi Trio, which not only restored my mood, but even managed to gracefully inject a bit of the genuine seasonal sentiment into the proceedings. My kids love it as well. Nothing seems to inspire fits of ecstatically spastic improvisational dance in my 5-year-old like "Linus and Lucy." If you don't own it, this record is quite literally unfuckwithable. It is the flawless Christmas artifact. Bing Crosby can fuck right off. I'm sticking with Vince.
Later today, despite the fact that the holiday in question is still about three weeks away, we're gong to pick up our tree. We did the math a couldn't find another suitable spot on the calendar for tannenbaum procurement, so today it shall be. But I still can't believe we're getting the tree this early ... I feel like I only just finished carving that pumpkin.
Where does the time go?
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