ahh christmas time. nothing like driving across the rain splattered, concete barrier laden death trip that is the PA turnpike to inspire a little thought about music, namely, about the need for heaping novelty tunes onto the pyre of christmas kitsch. this year we have, to the tune of 'walking in a winter wonderland,' 'upstairs at neverland,' an uninspired 11th hour jab at poor michael. don't really understand why r. kelly escapes but he's the subject of bad shock jock parodies. well, i guess weird al established the precedent.

regardless, i'm not much of a standards kind of girl, but burl ives and perry como cornered the market like, 40 years ago and i'm pretty sure our desperate, sick born again 'hate on the unrighteous' culture can't really cough up a sincere christmas song, so we're left with the frayed ends of kitsch culture, parodies that reference all the parts of christmas that people concentrate on, namely - splintered family, consumerism, morbid curiousity - wait, has eminem made a yule entry? and just bore more dribble into the dead ptah of the car speakers, making me try to figure out how the stereo seeks, skipping past the messiah and all that, finding no common ground until:

the waitresses.

the perfect, perfect cynical turned magic urban wanna believe yes i do watch white christmas and want to be rosemary clooney kind of song. (projecting?) i even heard it tonight at RED LOBSTER where i went with my grandfather who loves cheesy biscuits (me too) and saw a totally middlebrow couple bopping along while she wore ANTLERS FOR FUCKSAKE and their baby had a little santa bow. downright there in the true true, non-ozzy 'i am santa claus' embarrassing little brother cover kind of way, but really.