I started the current Christmas season trying to avoid “Last Christmas” by Wham!.
You see, my brother-in-law, Tim, texted an invitation to participate in WHAMAGEDDON, a game making the rounds in social media circles. The objective is to see how long you can go without actually hearing the holiday heartbreaker “Last Christmas,” which is sappier than a cut, live Christmas tree. If you hear it between Dec. 1 and Dec. 24, you lose. The game hinges on the honor system.
Tim’s invitation arrived Dec. 2. My wife Brynne admitted to already hearing the song the day before. “Does that mean I’m out?” she asked. That Brynne heard “Last Christmas” Dec. 1 gives you an idea of how hard it is to avoid the song. We granted her a GET OUT OF WHAMAGEDDON JAIL FREE CARD, allowing her to be part of the WHAMAGEDDON thrill ride.
Brynne and I did our best to avoid playing Christmas music at home, even though there were times that we accidently turned on our favorite Indy radio station during a meal, totally forgetting about WHAMAGEDDON, thus posing the risk of us being eliminated simultaneously. A WHAMAGEDDON DOUBLE WHAMMY!
Soon, I developed a gambler’s thrill from intentionally turning on the radio when alone – odds being good that “Last Christmas” was the bullet in the chamber of the station’s rotation – but then experiencing a sigh of relief when a different song aired, thus remaining a contest contender. It was akin to Russian Roulette – Radio Roulette in this case.
On Dec. 7, Tim’s wife Shannon texted to us a “LAST CHRISTMAS I GAVE YOU MY HEART” GIF, followed by a second text stating, “I am out of #whamageddon.”
Then there were three.
WHAMAGEDDON taught me that you can’t avoid Christmas music while in public. The holiday songs play overhead incessantly in grocery stores, big box stores, medical offices, restaurants – even at the gas pump. I caught myself speed shopping through the local grocery store while staring up at the ceiling speakers in fear, as if fleeing that mouthy, floating predator in Jordan Peel’s “Nope.”
Aisle 1: “Deck the halls with boughs of holly . . .” Aisle 7: “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas . . .” Aisle 13: “Simply having a wonderful Christmastime . . .” I’d rather have heard “Last Christmas” in Aisle 13 and cut my WHAMAGEDDON losses than hear “Wonderful Christmastime” one more time. I hate how the song’s saccharine synth sound worms through my ear holes, oozes its syrupy “oohs” and “doo doo doos” into my head, and parasitically latches onto my psyche with its “ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding” lyrics.
When I hear Paul McCartney sing, “Simply having a wonderful Christmastime,” my holiday spirit becomes humbugged. It’s too much sugar for the ears. I’m all for happy holidays . . . but not THAT HAPPY! It puts me in such a foul mood that I begin wishing The Beatles had never even been hatched just to avoid Sir Paul’s later solo career resulting in this song.
Fab Four fans, before you hate, hate me do, please note that I LOVE THE BEATLES! I simply hate “Wonderful Christmastime” more than I love The Beatles. It is the coal chunk in Santa’s sack of tunes, the audible, cringy fruitcake of holiday music.
On Dec. 11, I took my stepson Zach to a restaurant. He’s 18. I explained WHAMAGEDDON to him.
“If you hear ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham! then you lose,” I said.
“What’s Wham!?”
“They’re from the ‘80s.”
He looked at me like I was making the whole thing up, including the ‘80s.
“You know, ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.’ ”
“Nope.”
I opened the Spotify app on my cellphone.
“You haven’t heard this song?” I asked and hit play. “Last Christmas I gave you my heart . . .”
“I’ve never heard that song in my life,” he said.
A few nearby customers gave me the stink-eye. Perhaps they were participating in a WHAMAGEDDON of their own. It sucks to be them, I thought.
“Doesn’t that mean you lose?” Zach said. “You just heard the song.”
What Zach said was akin to hearing a turntable’s needle scratch across the grooves of spinning wax. Had Zach feigned Wham! ignorance? Had Brynne plotted this out? Yes, I had played Wham! a moment before but it felt like I was the one being played.
I outed myself to Brynne and Tim. Brynne texted a GIF showing George Michael twerking in a black and white Choose Life T-shirt. Tim responded, “I’m going to leave you hanging solo.”
Then there were two.
On Dec. 16, Brynne sent an audio text to us. It was a recorded snippet of Wham! in mid-song: “Last Christmas I gave you my heart . . .” I suspected it was Brynne’s attempt to WHAMBUSH her brother, Tim, with the audio link, the lowest of WHAMAGEDDON lows. But then she texted, “Whammit!”
Her snippet of “Last Christmas” had been recorded from her car radio on I-465. It was her way of announcing to us that she’d been Whammed while driving home, not a booby trap meant for her brother. It meant Tim was the WHAMAGEDDON winner.
In hindsight, WHAMAGEDON proved how even the worst of holiday songs can be fun. I can’t wait for Christmas 2023 just so I can try not to hear “Last Christmas” all over again.
Contact: scottsaalman@gmail.com