Baby, It's Cold Outside - But you Better Brave the Weather

I have been more excited for this Christmas than I have in years.  I know this is because my daughter is now two and old enough to understand Christmas.  Every single time she sees an image of Santa Claus on the television or adorning someone’s front yard, she points and smiles, proudly labeling this jolly old man: “Santa.”  After announcing his presence, she begins to repeat, “Ho. Ho. Ho.”  Her enthusiasm for the season is simply infectious, and I have made every attempt to rev it up even more.  Therefore, I have been listening almost exclusively to the all Christmas music station – Holly – on XM whenever Emily is in the vehicle with me.

I have learned a number of things from this frequent listening to holiday tunes.  To begin, no one – no one – really thinks the fucking Chipmunks are cute.  Somewhere along the line we must have been brainwashed to believe kids enjoy that squeaky, obnoxious shit, so we keep on listening to Alvin, Simon, and Theodore sing holiday tunes.  I believed it, so I turned it up when one of their mousy melodies came on, and said, “Emily, listen to the chipmunks sing.  Isn’t it silly?”  I glanced back and smiled at her, and she had the most disgusted expression on her face, like she was really questioning my interest in such irritating music, much like the countenance that crosses my face when I see women wearing Ugg boots in July – or at all.

I have also learned that people tend to make very rash decisions during the holiday season.  For example, in “Winter Wonderland,” the couple suddenly decides to get married and allows a snowman to proceed over said ceremony.  That’s not romantic; that’s ridiculous.  I hope that the tooth fairy will be around in a few months to grant them a divorce.  In “Last Christmas,” the singer laments, “Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. The very next day, you gave it away.  This year, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to someone special.”  Now, why the fuck would you give your heart to someone not special in the first place, you fool?  That’s just damn stupid.  You don’t fall in love because of mistletoe, folks. 

The worst lyrics, though, are found in “Baby, it’s Cold Outside.”  Have you ever closely listened to this song? Damn, I guess nothing says Christmas like a sweet little ditty about potential date rape.  I imagine we’re expected to believe the woman is just being coy and this banter back and forth is charming, but when Colbie Caillat recently covered this tune, she added “I don’t trust you” to the very end of this song.  I wouldn’t trust him either.  Listen more closely next time, and you’ll notice the female duet partner asks, “Say, what’s in this drink?”  Once I recognized this, I have been unable to shake the image of the Family Guy character Glenn Quagmire’s “roofie colada.”  Bitch, you better just wrap your scarf a little tighter and brave the weather because you’re being serenaded by a bad, bad man.

If I want to enjoy my Christmas music in the future I either need to listen less carefully or steer entirely clear of pop music.  I know “Away in a Manger” and “The First Noel” are safe bets.  Even seemingly sweet children’s songs like “Frosty the Snowman” could be interpreted as a song about a predatory monster that only the children know comes to life because, you know, Frosty told them to keep it a secret from the adults.  Sometimes I wish my mind didn’t work this way.  Nonetheless, I wish you all a very magical holiday season.  Just promise me there will be no weddings attended by chipmunks and governed by a magical snowman.

 

Do you still think this is a sweet holiday song?