I don't consider myself a violent person, but Brenda Lee is on my last nerve.
Everywhere I've gone for the past three weeks, this woman has been "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" with relentless, repetitive pep. And I see absolutely no sign of reprieve until the 26th of this month.
I go into an antique store...
She's scooching around the Scotch pine...
I go into the supermarket...
She's bugging around the blue spruce.
I go into the bank? There's Brenda. Bopping around the vegetative symbol of winter solstice.
I'm not sure what she does the other 10 and a half months of the year. Possibly spends 'em recovering from pulled muscles and dehydration....
But for the six weeks this woman is musically cavorting around the holiday conifer with reckless abandon, I find myself growing increasingly Grinchly.
Oh, I've tried to block her out. I've compensated with Celtic Christmas in my car. I've jollied along with Jethro Tull's Jack Frost. I've hearkened to the holidays with Gary Hoey. I've even swung to the sounds of Brian Setzer's rockabilly sleigh.
But the moment I step from the Brenda-Lee-No-Christmas-Tree-Rocking-Around Zone? There she is again. Fandangoing around the freakin' fir.
So, I think the other musical artists need to get together and stage an intervention for equal play time. It clearly isn't fair. Brenda Lee is monopolizing our Muzak airwaves, and something should be done.
David Bowie and Bing Crosby should round up their Little Drummer Boy and have him do his best Neil Peart solo every time she starts to open her mouth.
The Chipmunks could keep her in one place by trapping her in that hula hoop Alvin wants so much.
The reindeer that did a fly-by whacking on Grandma? He could keep an eye on her and swoop in, if she starts getting out of hand.
All I want for Christmas is to stop hearing this song, as I'm totally good in the "two front teeth" department.
I wonder if earmuffs come in a festive Cone of Silence style?
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P.S.- Tell me, do you have a Christmas carol that you're sick of hearing? Knowing this might make my Grinchy heart grow three sizes bigger. Or at least make me not shriek in horror in the middle of the grocery store the next time I hear this song. (And oh, I will be hearing it. Oh yes.)
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