I’m burned out on Christmas music.
My brother and I used to both get a Christmas CD every year. The variety of interpretations of classic Christmas carols and songs was always interesting.
Until ten years or so ago.
Then stores and parking lots and hospitals and everywhere except your car or home began playing Christmas songs from the day after Thanksgiving onward.
It’s just too much. And there’s no choice.
Their bad = my bad.
“Ninety minutes from New York to Paris.”
Donald Fagen sang that in his retro‐futuristic album, The Nightfly.*
A transatlantic flight in the Concorde jet actually took 173 minutes. But that was still pretty darn fast. It was faster than any commercial jet that is currently flying.
When we lived in England, 21 years ago, it was the twilight of the Concorde era. Those amazing jets were being phased out because they made a lot of noise (breaking the sound barrier) and were very expensive to fly.
But British Airways had a special around Christmas time — you could fly the Concorde to Iceland for something like $150 round‐trip. But that was more than we could afford at the time.
I will always regret not taking that flight.
Photo courtesy of Eduard Marmet and used via the Wikimedia Commons license.
* Great album, by the way — if you’re into jazz‐pop of that era.