It wasn't even Thanksgiving yet when the Christmas music began. Every shop in town, every radio station, every television channel; Christmas music. Traditional Christmas music; rock Christmas music; jazz Christmas music. Christmas music played on violins and bells in the elevators. Christmas carols practiced by my children every evening. Christmas music hummed all day, everyday by co-workers. I had to escape.
I needed a vacation, somewhere far away where there wouldn't be any Christmas music. I decided on Japan, a Shinto country when until recently they shot missionaries. Upon landing at Narita Airport, while waiting in the baggage collection room, the loudspeaker began blaring out the supposedly soothing tones of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in Japanese. I realized my mistake - Japan was too westernized. I collected my luggage and headed back to the ticket counter. There was a flight a few hours later to Kuala Lumpur. I had no idea where that was, but it sounded heathen enough. I purchased a ticket and spent two hours in agony in the terminal listening to Christmas music played on Japanese wind instruments.
On the airplane, I learned my destination was in Malaysia, a Moslem country. I refused the headphones as most of the channels played Christmas music exclusively, and the movie was "Scrooged." I closed my eyes and tried to fill my head with some soothing Mozart music.
My first day in Kuala Lumpur was bliss. No Christmas music. No music at all. I avoided the expensive hotels where they were certain to cater to Westerners and stayed in a dump. Just the sounds of prostitutes at work.
The next day, feeling relaxed and refreshed, I decided to venture out. I need to finish shopping for Christmas presents for my children. Big mistake. The shopping mall was filled with Moslems, Buddhists, and Hindus, while the loudspeaker blared the sound of Bruce Springsteen's "Santa Claus is Coming to Town."
I didn't even bother to collect my baggage from the hotel in my haste to get to the airport. I purchased a ticket to China, a dictatorial Communist country, one of the few outposts remaining where Christianity was outlawed, and hopefully, Christmas music too. I spent my time in the airplane imagining the insipid Communist Party songs that would fill the airwaves and streets.
Unfortunately, in my haste, I neglected to procure a visa and at the immigration counter they marched me into a cold, narrow room and made me fill out endless reams of forms. On the line for purpose of travel, I wrote, "Escape from Christmas music." That and my lack of any baggage caused the officials to be suspicious. Only after vehement denials by the American ambassador that I was not a spy but a psychopath was I allowed out of jail. My rather unglamorous accommodations though containing no plumbing at all, at least had no Christmas music, and if I was not particularly comfortable during my stay there, at least I was untroubled, and no matter how much I begged them to let me stay until after the New Year, I was deported from the country.
This time I vowed to avoid big cities and decided to head to a retreat in India. I quickly escaped from Calcutta and joined a religious cult in the mountains. The incessant chanting wasn't overly melodious, but at least it wasn't Christmas music. I was content. It appeared I could last out the end of December in the retreat until one day our chanting session was interrupted by a procession of limousines and satellite relay television trucks. The Congressional Committee on Un-American Affairs had come to investigate allegations that an American had been tortured by being deprived of Christmas music during the holiday season. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir and been brought along to tide me over until an American radio station could be established to beam 24 hour a day Christmas carols to the wilderness.
In the depths of my despair, there seemed no where on earth I could escape. I had only one choice. I found a knife in the kitchen and slit my throat. As the life drained from my body and my soul began to float upwards, the angels came to greet me, all singing "Silent Night, Holy Night."
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