Christmas is the most musical season. Melodies embedded in the memory are reanimated to light the fires of commerce, Christian devotion, and the family romance, packaging the Christmas Experience in song.
It is impossible to avoid music and music making this time of year. Fueled by the Christmas punch, once-a-year singers gather round the piano to cavort with those Maids-A-Milking and to demand their figgy pudding. As I make my way to the party on the other side of the door, its wreath and Merry Christmas welcome mat, I feel the shadow of Schwellenangst — one of the great German words, which means fear of the threshold, and therefore of entering — sapping my confidence. To combat the dread, I anthropomorphize the central musical genre of the season, indeed of our lives: Christmas Carol. There she is waiting inside to greet me. She’s got big hair, dangling Christmas ornament earrings, and a wide vibrato. When she presses me to her red cashmere sweater and I inhale her spiced perfume, I know everything is going to be more than alright …
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