Not yet have I tired of hearing Christmas carols.

I love those old hymns. They bring back memories of standing around, freezing to death, chewing on mittens and waiting for someone to open a door so we, the youth group, could belt out “O Little Town of Bethlehem” and hopefully, those nice people would give us some hot chocolate. Those were the days! I remember shopping in whatever city I lived in, surrounded by the carols and anticipating a visit home at Christmas.

Today, in between the dozen-or-so football games offered on television, I switch channels hoping for escape from pigskin purgatory and catch a snippet of “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” And I’m enthralled. My memory goes back 40 years or so to a concert at Boston’s Symphony Hall – standing room only, some highbrow choir sounding like what I guess angels sound like.

Strange, the effect music can have. Just like perfume, music evokes memories of particular times and events. During fund-raising drives, public television stations tend to have programs featuring music groups from the 50s – my youth. The weird thing is I didn’t even like rock ‘n’ roll or that kind of music when it was popular (or now) but I remember all the words to the songs. One day, I heard the Drifters (young dudes when I was in high school) or some such group singing and so, naturally, I sang along. A visiting child about the age of 11 looked at me suspiciously and I clammed right up, but I’ll bet he won’t remember the words to today’s rap songs when he’s as old as I am.

Christmas songs are different than Christmas carols. I can hardly envision a group of caped and top-hat clad singers lifting their eyes to sing about chipmunks or seeing someone kissing Mr. Claus.

The day comes when you just have to go shopping. You’ve put it off long enough. Dreading every minute, you arrive at the store. The automatic door opens and you shove that unwieldy cart up over the doorsill, and your feet kick in to overdrive. The wafting sounds of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” cause you to stop a minute, get your bearings, focus and believe it or not, start humming. You hope no one notices.

It’s a pity that music sounding like Christmas carols, isn’t played during those darned long times when we’re put “on hold” during phone calls. We might enjoy waiting.

Enjoy the season while it lasts – the soon-to-be-gone special music; the arrival of cards from old friends, and the sounds of the carols. Sing, if you like.

See you next week.