T'was the day after Christmas and all through the house

Theres something troubling about the day after Christmas and its not what you may be thinking. Its not the carnage that your house is in after a day of gorging yourself full of foods and beverages that come with their own Surgeon Generals warning while tearing open presents with a group of aunts, uncles and cousins that you only see once a year and then only for the specific purpose of shredding a forests worth of wrapping paper and consuming enough to feed a small third-world country for several years. Its not the shopping mall sales where the finely-crafted-in-China much-in-demand plastic item that you searched high and low for just days earlier and for which you were willing to pay a premium price for the privilege of being the one to gift it is now casually tossed in the discount bin with a 75 percent off sticker slapped to its backside. Its not even those annoying co-workers who somehow feel its their divine right and privilege to take both the day before AND the day after Christmas off, because, as they are all too eager to tell you repeatedly, over and over, time and again in the days leading up to Christmas, nobody parties like we party, not even freakin Santa Claus, ho, ho, ho, and Ill need that day off to recover, ...leaving you squeezed out of the time off calendar. No, the troubling thing about the day after Christmas is the music. Go ahead, give a listen. Its just days after Christmas and theres nary a carol to be heard -- not in the malls, not on the streets, not on the radio. Its as if a decree went out from Caesar Augustus demanding that all Christmas music cease at precisely midnight, Christmas night. Dont get me wrong. By the time Christmas rolls around, Ive had my fill of Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer and I never again want to hear that Reba McIntyre spoken word tear jerker about the Christmas visitor. But when you start the build-up to Christmas in July, dont you think throwing the music switch at midnight is a little abrupt. Its enough to give even the most flexible playlist whiplash. Couldnt we ease out of the holiday gracefully, remembering the reason for the season for a little longer than it takes to snarf down the last of Grandmas gingerbread cookies? Its like as a society we attention deficit disorder. I swear, when I was out Christmas Eve at a major retailer picking up one last item, there were crews lurking in the shadows, poised that very night to sweep away the red and green boxes in favor of the pink and white. Less than 50 shopping days until Valentines Day. Theres no time to waste! Sheesh! Everybody just chillax a little, take a deep breath and back away from those red candy hearts, slowly now, slowly. Repeat after me. I heard the bells on Christmas Day ...and for several days thereafter. Cause Santa Claus came to town and this year, he decided to stay a while.

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