Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Carter, Reagan, Bush and Clinton

Happy holidays!

I hate Christmas music.

Actually, let me rephrase that: I freaking haaate Christmas music (jury's still out on bell choirs, though).  Nothing vexes me more than hearing Frosty the Snowman two weeks before Halloween, and if I'm ever made to hear that song about grandma and the reindeer again, the world will pay.

An outbreak of plague seems a welcome alternative to any album with the words 'Country' and 'Christmas' in the title.  I don't care if he does have a moustache; no way I'm gonna sit still while Alan Jackson twangs his way through Silent Night. In the name of mercy, deliver me!

And yet, come December even my coal-black heart is capable of some measure, however small, of holiday cheer.  Here are two notable and delightful exceptions, one from the Pretenders:



And another from Bob Dylan:



Chan! Chan! I'm waiting for you to join this short but worthy list.

nwb