Chanukah always comes in second, doesn't it? Even in this blog, even though my fiancée is Jewish. I've mentioned it about as often as I've name-dropped Festivus, which thus far in this series translates as "once in the first post, then never again until now." Allow me to take this opportunity to rectify that.
Ahh, Chanukah: the little Christmas that almost could. In theory, it should be even better than Christmas: presents for eight days! Pyro! Less annoying songs to get overplayed every time I'm stuck in the damned CVS because someone I can't be bothered with any other time during the year needs a freaking card sent to them! The first half of that last digression was one of the biggest thorns in my side back when I ran a music department for Borders. Every year, the same ugly conversation:
[Disgruntled Customer]: Where is your Chanukah music?
[Me]: It's in the last row of the Christmas music display.
[Disgruntled Customer]: Okay. (Heads over there, flips through the ten CDs in the display, returns with face the color of Santa's suit.) WHY DO YOU HAVE SO MUCH MORE CHRISTMAS MUSIC THAN CHANUKAH MUSIC?
[Me]: I'm sorry. There simply isn't any more available. Every year, I order everything the distributor has to sell me, but--
[Disgruntled Customer]: IT'S DISCRIMINATION IS WHAT IT IS. ANTI-SEMITISM!
Not hardly: no one would have been happier than I if I could have ordered hundreds of Chanukah CDs, if for no other reason than never having to have a conversation along the lines of the above again. You're absolutely right, dear composite customer: I'd much rather have a confrontational chat with you than simply take your money and send you semi-merrily on your way. I don't know what to tell you about that: perhaps you could have your friends write and record some new songs? Or maybe you could convert Mariah Carey. Buy five more copies of that Adam Sandler album? Honestly, dear Jewish friends, I don't have a good answer for you. I'll certainly agree that the pickings are slim.
I do feel bad for Chanukah as a holiday, though: forever stuck in the shadow of the big man and his reindeer, the menorah obscured by someone's over-sized, over-lit tree. The poor holiday can't even decide how to spell itself in English. When I started this series, I just came as close as I could phonetically to a spelling, let Microsoft Word correct it, and went with the results. Sadly, it turns out that both that both Microsoft Word and I were wrong. To wit:
Sigh. Alas, poor
Chanukah Hanukkah, even your dopey internet humor isn't quite as
"good" as Christmas'. Still,
you'll always have one thing that your Santa lovin' friends don't: the Mama Doni Band!