The Grinch was right about a couple of things.
It's now official: you can't escape the Christmas music.
Our office PA system usually plays one of the local schmaltz-pop stations. This year that station started playing all holiday music two weeks before Thanksgiving. Management couldn't tolerate that, so they switched to another station. Yesterday they switched back.
Not that I'm complaining. There are some songs that seem to be in heavy rotation, and you're guaranteed to hear those at least once a day. But it beats working retail. One store where I worked years ago had a holiday music reel that repeated every 45 minutes. That is a recipe for insanity, and it would not surprise me to find myself someday telling that story to a court-appointed psychiatrist.
I only bring this up because I was reminded today that, although, everybody agrees that some holiday music is positively ghastly, there's widespread disagreement on which music that is. Today on the radio we heard "You're a Mean One, Mister Grinch" from How the Grinch Stole Christmas (1966), and a lady in the office commented that she hated not only the song, but the whole Grinch TV show. Now, I guess a person is entitled to dislike the show, especially if you're not a fan of cartoons, or Dr. Seuss, or Chuck Jones, but by rejecting those things I think you'd risk becoming tragically uncultured, or at the very least undercultured.
The lady also remarked, "I guess the kids like it. I'm not a kid." To which I would reply—if office politics were not a consideration—that if I ever get too old for Chuck Jones, or Dr. Seuss, or cartoons, then you can yank out my plug, baby, because I'm done.