Last night, being the involved paterfamilias that I am, waiting for the PTA meeting to start, I was treated, by which I mean subjected, to the dulcet tones of a half-dozen 6th Graders playing Jingle Bells on various stringed weapons of mass destruction, by which I mean it sucked like a Hoover upright set for 110\u00a0that’s been plugged into a 220 outlet.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n
This is<\/strong>, in fact,\u00a0about that.\u00a0 This is an advent countdown of Christmas and other miscellaneous holiday songs that make me barf a bit,\u00a0the ones you know you’re supposed to love, but\u00a0really you’d rather\u00a0icepick your ears than sit\u00a0through them\u00a0on the radio again – you know the kind I mean.\u00a0 I really didn’t think Jingle Bells, per se, would make this list, and since I can’t subject you to the same tortuous dischord (without incurring the wrath of the local PETA chapter, to say nothing of my cats), it won’t.\u00a0<\/p>\n Today’s exercise in aural torture instead comes from the incomparable Michael Bolton.\u00a0 And when I say incomparable, I mean that there is no one who can suck the musical life out of a room to compare with him.\u00a0\u00a0 “Our Love is Like a Holiday?”\u00a0 Really, Michael?\u00a0 Is that because it only happens once a year?\u00a0 Is it one of those holidays where the Mother In Law shows up to explain how you’re doing it wrong while the Father In Law sits on the couch watching TV and drinking your beer for a week and the goddamn roast is overcooked AGAIN and we’re not inviting the Montibans next door because of what they said about our Sharon, and we’re can’t invite the Smithfields even though we like them because they’ll just argue politics with your mom and remember she broke that vase last year – one of those Holidays?\u00a0 Yes?<\/p>\n Perhaps he was trying to write a Christmas tribute to Neil Young’s “Our Love is Like a Hurricane,” and just wanted to make sure he could suck more than that.\u00a0 Jury’s still out.<\/p>\n Also, any song that starts with the words, “Oh yeah” sounds like you forgot something.\u00a0 I think I forgot to turn this thing off.\u00a0 “I know that I let you down in the past \/ Cause I’ve got so many places to go \/ Girl, I promise I’ll be around, give me a chance \/ Cause I’m singing for you wherever it show”\u00a0 – riiiiiiiiiiight.\u00a0 No, no, of course I love you baby.\u00a0 Those other six hundred\u00a0forty-two girls I banged after those concerts didn’t mean anything to me.\u00a0 \u00a0After all, “it’s hard to believe \/ This world brought you to me…”\u00a0<\/p>\n No, it’s hard to believe there’s anyone who’s going to fall for this dreck.\u00a0 Get a haircut.\u00a0<\/p>\n Go ahead.\u00a0 It’s like a train wreck – you don’t want to listen, but you can’t keep yourself from clicking.\u00a0 I’ll be over here, trying to get the sound of\u00a0two cellos, two violas, and two violence out of my head.\u00a0 And yes, I spelled that right.<\/p>\n \u00a0
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