after one long season of waiting

Ladies and gents, you are probably all tired of me talking about music but this one is apple_pathways' fault so you can all blame her instead. She challenged me, and I just cannot leave a challenge unanswered, especially when it comes in the mail:



Unfortunately, asking me for holiday songs is a bit like asking normal people what their favorite polka is (probably something by Mucca Pazza) or what the best sort of long-neck lute is (the bouzouki).

( I had to do some real soul-searching on this one, guys... )

( ...but here are my answers. )

apple_pathways actually did this properly, and came up with a a lovely little list, plus it's totally worth it for the bonus video. And if any of the rest of you want to take up the challenge, feel free!

This is already slipping from my mind at an alarming rate, but the dream went something like this:

"Terrorists" were occupying large sections of Chicago, but it was one of their holidays and they weren't paying as much attention, so a number of former Chicagoans, myself included, decided to sneak back in and have a look around. The biggest symbol of their occupation was a soda can thumb drive that sat at the top of an escalator in what was probably the Nordstrom's downtown. I went up to it, while people behind me chattered about how there'd been a lot of talk about strategically nuking it, and no one had been brave enough to touch it. I walked up to it, thought "Seriously, could they have irradiated this can and made it that deadly?" and picked it up. It stuck to my hand, I screamed, and threw it down the escalator, then calmly walked over to my apartment, which was up the escalator at Nordstrom's. I went inside and set about making breakfast, knowing that by screaming and destroying their symbolic pop can thumb drive that I was going to get into a lot of trouble. I figured I'd have at least a day, though, because it was a terrorist holiday. But, as I stood at my stove, a little boy came to my door holding a giant rock over his head.

"I'm going to throw this through your window, now" he said.

"Okay," I said, knowing that this was terrorist retribution and I might as well get it over with.

He gave me a confused look, but chucked the rock through my window anyway. I stood next to the stove in a pile of glass, and he continued to stare at me.

"I'm going to verbally abuse you know," he said. I shrugged, he looked confused, said a few hateful things and then wandered off.

Word of my bravery against the terrorist rock-throwing spread among those who were back in Chicago for the holiday, and while I was out for a walk by the lake, hundreds of other people began to gather around in peaceful protest. I found myself shouting instructions to them, like "Don't leave any litter behind!" and "Whatever you do, don't rise to their attacks!" There were police and former soldiers wandering around in swim trunks (they still had their guns, though, which worried me), random families with picnic blankets sat on the rocks, and we were apparently peacefully taking Chicago back (because some kid threw a rock through my window because I destroyed a symbolic can). At which point I decided I'd go for a swim, and woke up.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you defeat the terrorists.