Christmas is over, and all the radio stations and grocery stores are back to playing their old, tired, sappy soft rock. Ugh.
But this blog is about happy things.
So I guess I was really happy for the month or so of respite from the Supremes and Whitney Houston, where we went back even further and got to hear Johnny Mathis, Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby, and all the other folks who sang all those songs I love.
I love being able to sing along with the Christmas carols everywhere I go.
And while there were times where the sappy, new-age, "soul"-filled, lousy remakes of Christmas songs made me really mad as I tried to find the stupid soap that I couldn't find, and as I ran up and down all the stupid aisles, wishing there weren't so many other purple bottles of cleansers, I could have ripped out that stupid stereo system in the store and felt much better.
But I didn't.
And all the rest of the times I heard the happy Christmas carols, I loved them and loved singing along.
Even if they're a sappy and horrible version, I can always just sing louder than the radio, and then I like the song again.