Two weeks ago I had a layover in the Minneapolis airport. Yes, THAT airport that tripped (tapped?) up Idaho Senator Larry Craig of the “wide stance” public sex scandal. Four years ago in the overworn, miserable “I’m not homosexual, I love Jesus, hard, but I am only truly happy doing homosexual things with homosexual men” trope.

ANY-hoo, I was taking care of business (I excrete gardenia petals and high-quality maple syrup, unlike you mortals) and an instrumental version of “The 12 Days of Christmas” was playing in the bathroom, LOUDLY. I’d never heard an instrumental version before, have you? ‘Cause it’s horrifying. Think of that song, without the lyrics, the repetitive rounds. “DUN dun dun da dun, DUN dun dun da dun…” And it built up to and went through all twelve rounds. Oy. Nightmarish. So far, I like the holidays and associate them with friends and family (and wistfulness, Christmas songs come in minor keys, too). But that moment was horrible, and for people who don’t have those associations with this holiday I salute you for enduring.

Didn’t get the camera phone in time for “12 Days of Christmas”, but here enjoy a few bars of “Jingle Bells” that followed, with the sounds of dreary travelers around.