It’s mistletoe time: another excuse to slip the tongue, or another depressing reminder we have no one to lock lips with. Though the 12th month has just started, it’s safe to say anyone who has turned on their radio or visited any doctor’s office, restaurant or shopping establishment is already sick of Christmas music. There are only so many octaves in which musicians can sing ‘Merry Christmas’ and only so many versions of ‘Let it Snow’ a sane person can tolerate.

I personally prefer old Christmas tunes to the new ones. During December, I can’t get enough of ol’ Dean Martin, Bill Cosby – I mean Bing Crosby – and Engelbert Humperdinck. Those old geezers are the ones who should be singing the carols, not the young’ins.

But the stars love to eat away at the holiday songs. Michael Buble has brought his sexy style to ‘White Christmas’ and ‘The Christmas Song.’ The Spice Girls have taken a stab at ‘Sleigh Ride,’ and Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey ironically sang ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside.’ Do these pop stars think we’ll be playing their renditions for our children?

I’m sorry, Taylor Swift, but my children are going to listen to Bing’s version of ‘Silent Night’ over yours.

I think Kenny G is brilliant. Instead of attempting the impossible task of singing a unique version of ‘Winter Wonderland’ by holding the errrr in ‘Wonder’ longer than the other 150 singers with versions of that song on iTunes, he cuts the crap and toots on his sax.

Since listening to the same 12 Christmas songs on repeat year after year gets increasingly more excruciating, I’ve tried listening to some of the new ones. That NOW That’s What I Call Christmas album (volumes I through XVIII) promotes the works of many popular artists. From The Baha Men and The Chipmunks, to Relient K and Ne-Yo, it seems as if everyone and his mom wants in on the holiday fun. I’m thinking of selling my songs, ‘Santa Got Coal Stuck Where You Don’t Want It’ and ‘I Spiked my Eggnog Too Much’ to NOW That’s What I Call Christmas volume XVIIII.

I will admit that I do enjoy The Pussycat Dolls’ version of ‘Santa Baby.’ I can picture the sexy ladies luring in the big man and having a giant love fest in his sleigh. Afroman’s ‘Frosty the Snowman’ and ‘Let Her Blow’ really provide new interpretations to the jingles. And I love the Kidz Bop rendition of ‘Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer.’ I’ve never heard any children more excited about the footprints on their grandmother’s forehead than those bopping kids.

Unlike my neighbor, who thinks it’s totally normal to listen to Christmas music year-round, and my other neighbors who have had a wreath since September, I save all holiday stuff for the winter. That means ‘Love Actually,’ ‘The Holiday,’ ‘Serendipity’ and ‘The Family Man’ stay untouched until I see snow. ‘Snow Dogs,’ ‘The Polar Express’ and ‘Home Alone’ remain in the VHS boxes until the 25-day countdown. Tim Allen, Chevy Chase and Arnold Schwarzenegger wait until I’m in Christmas spirit.

This stuff is all in due time, my friends. I hold out on my Mrs. Claus nightgown and my Santa hat until I deem it appropriate. I don’t want to be munching on gingerbread or chugging my apple cider before the Christmas sales.

Christmas shopping: a pleasurable experience. One that grows trickier year after year. At least in college, we don’t have to buy gifts for everyone on our buddy list. I still have presents I bought for my sixth grade BFFs.

Now, though, the presents I bequeath have to be perfect. I have this shtick about gift-giving: If it isn’t great, it isn’t given. I can’t deal out Hippopotamuses and front teeth to all my family and friends. If the gifts I offer don’t make them have a holly jolly Christmas, why bother? I like to stick to the personalized gifts: the monogrammed flasks, the mixed tapes, the Build-a-Bears. Receiving more rash-causing silver bracelets from desperate boys, self-help books from my mom and McDonald’s Arch Cards for my vegetarian diet just don’t say ‘Feliz Navidad’ to me. Well, as 200 musical artists, advertising agencies and Santa suit rental companies say, ‘It’s the most wonderful time of the year.’

Talia Pollock is sad to see her column-writing take a break, but is excited to celebrate Hannukah, Hanukah, Chanukah (?). She would like to give a well-deserved shout out to her live-in lady who turned her on to Engelbert. She can be reached at tpollock@syr.edu.

Published on December 2, 2008 at 12:00 pm