Commuting to Work on Christmas Eve Morn

On the road at 6:30 this morning.

Dark. 23 degrees.

That's depressing stuff, man. 

Everything is different around Christmas. A lot less traffic for one thing. 

I listen to two sports talk radio stations on my early morning commutes.

Dial one up this morning and they are broadcasting a weight loss infomercial. Jesus, are you kidding me? First of all I am looking for distraction. Secondly I am not looking to be reminded that I am morbidly obese.

I immediately switched to Christmas music. Glad that I did.

Sheryl Crow does a great rendition of "Blue Christmas." Heard that. Springsteen doing "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town". I love rock 'n roll Chrstmas songs. Fucking love them.

Springsteen, and U2 doing Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) are two of my all time favorites. On the way home today they played both of them BACK TO BACK. My spirits were buoyed.

I finally figured it out today.

Christmas is palpably different than Thanksgiving. A whole different thing. It literally feels different in a deeper, emotional way.

Been listening to a lot of Christmas music. And it hit me that it is all about wishes and dreams and hopes and love. Requited and unrequited.

The intangible stuff that keeps you from committing suicide.

What makes Christmas so difficult is that we all know our dreams are just that - dreams. They won't come true. But they sustain us like food. And every Christmas song, every Christmas card puts that hope, those dreams right in front of your face.

Christmas is false hope. That is why I love "Fairy Tale of New York." It is so honest.

"Got on a lucky one, came in eighteen to one, I've got a feeling this year's for me and you, so Happy Christmas, I love you baby, I can see a better time when all our dreams come true."

That's what we do. We fool ourselves to survive. The song gets much darker but I won't quote the lyrics because you are an obedient human being who cannot handle the truth.

This explains my emotions. I hear Christmas music and it simultaneously brings me hope and fills me with despair.

This is confusing.

Especially this year. The baseline we are starting from is bleak. So a rollercoaster of false hope and vicious reality is crushing.

Strangely enough I will continue to listen to this music.

"So I'm gonna hurl myself against the wall, 'cause I'd rather feel bad than feel nothing at all."

Warren Zevon. "Ain't That Pretty At All."