You'll be the prince and he'll be the princess

So it’s Thanksgiving. Which means signs of the holiday season start popping up here and there. There is egg nog in the fridge and my Pandora is suddenly set to N’Sync’s Christmas album (…who touched my computer?!)
Around my house we love holiday music. And by holiday music I mean we really only like two songs: ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ by Bruce Springsteen and ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’. My childhood being free from any religious education I associate Christmas with two things: Santa and romance. My brother, sister and I can sing the lyrics of Bruce’s Christmas classic, the live version, complete with his stutters and cheers to the crowd. The holiday season is a miraculous time, because it’s absolutely incredible that I haven’t gotten sick of this song. Nothing gets me more excited for the holidays than the Boss belting out lines about The Fat Man’s arrival. By the time he gets to the “and I’m tellin you why” I’m filled with the warm, fuzzy, secular, American holiday spirit.

Bruce's jam will always be my favorite, but coming in at a close second is, of course, Mariah’s holiday hit. Not only does this song encapsulate the majority of the Christmas wishes of everyone over the age of 12, but it has joined the ranks with the select few chick songs that are okay to be loved by men. A few others in this unique category include Taylor Swift’s ‘Love Story”; and Miley’s ‘Party in the USA.’ Qualification for this high honor requires a specific scientific formula; a song must be catchy and simple enough to sing along to and be cheesy enough that the manliest of men can claim they appreciate it on ironic terms.

When ‘Love Story’ was performed karaoke style every week at the bar near campus a female was rarely seen near the mike. It was just a gaggle of shaggy, inebriated boys being like “Man, isn’t this hilarious? Me with my 5 O’clock shadow and Timbs singing about crying on the staircase?! Frikken HILARIOUS, right? Cuz crying on the staircase is that absolute opposite of what I do, that’s where the humor is, get it? Ha….”

I am by no means opposed to this phenomenon. It means that my brother isn’t mad when we put Mariah on repeat, and in fact, he requests it. (He also lets my sister and I give him pedicures when we’re on vacation, but that’s a story for another day.) I like the acknowledgement that legends like Mariah, Taylor, and Miley are getting from my male peers, even if it comes with a facade of sarcastic disdain. There is just something to be said for lyrics that hit home, whether it’s coming from a snaggle-toothed teeny bopper, a has-been pop goddess, or The Boss. So I’ll be on the couch if you need me, with my egg nog, headphones, and a very exclusive playlist. All you meat-eating, flannel-wearing, power tool-using, crotch-scratching men out there feel free to do the same. I won’t judge.

Romeo save me i've been feeling so alone
I guess I never got the memo
Cuz all I want for Christmas is you.
You baby.