Every morning, my alarm goes off at 5:45.
I lay in bed until 6:30, sleeping and listening to the radio.
I do not particularly like the radio station, but there are a limited number of choices, since reception at our house is not the greatest. What is there comes in clearly, and I am willing to tolerate it, despite the fact that it switched to an all Christmas, all the time, format in early November.
I am not against Christmas. I just take a dim view of it in November. But this is mid December, and well within my personal safe zone.
But I have been dozing to Christmas music for over a month now, sorting songs into categories.
Elvis (an easy one)
Johnny Mathis (or people I have never heard of, but who sound like Johnny Mathis. This seems to be a rapidly expanding category.)
Perry Como… or is that Mel Torme… but obviously not Dean Martin (Because I can recognize Dean. I had a crush on him, when I was in grade school. Before I knew about sex, and why it was a horrible idea for an innocent Catholic girl to lust after members of the rat pack)
Michael Buble/Feinstein (I am convinced these two are the same person. Although I can see an obvious reason why someone named Feinstein probably doesn’t have a huge Christmas repertory. Or maybe they are both secretly Harry Connick Jr. In the dark and asleep, it is hard for me to tell the difference)
Jose Feliciano (who only has one song, but they play it a lot)
Women (who, if they are not Eartha Kitt singing Santa Baby, I don’t really care to know)
This morning, I woke up to none of the above. There was music. And someone…talking…
And to get the effect, you really have to hear those ellipsis. Or are they ellipses? Because there were a lot of them.
And I had heard them before. Just… never… at… Christmas…
Spaaaaahk!!!!!! Kahn!!!!!!!! Good King Wenceslas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The song stylings of Willaim Shatner.
Some of you know. Those of you who don’t? Well, this isn’t a Christmas song. But I watched it live on TV, back in 1978, and it warped me for life.