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!
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