I LOVE THIS!

How the holiday creep finally stole war on Christmas

By Mark Saal, Standard-Examiner staff

Game over.

Ordinarily, you'd be reading my annual "War on Christmas" column right about now. But frankly, my heart's just not in it anymore.

OK, technically, it hasn't been so much a war on Christmas that I've been waging as a war on early Christmas. I've spent the last dozen years or so fighting the good fight against the crazies who would have us hauling out the holly even before the last of the Halloween candy has been greedily consumed. I've decried the fact that many retail stores begin the not-so-subtle holiday push just after Labor Day (online companies start even earlier). And I've urged boycotts of radio stations that start in with their all-holiday-music-all-the-time format well before the first frost.

I've argued and reasoned, pleaded and begged, threatened and cajoled. But no more. I give up. I surrender. Uncle.

You win, all you crazy "Rudolph Day" women who sent me Christmas cards in October.

You win, Walmart and Target and Shopko and Best Buy; go ahead and set up your grossly premature seasonal displays.

You win, FM 100 and KOSY 106.5, with your holiday-music formats that begin just after Halloween.

You win, Mother Nature, with your stupid early November snowstorms.

There's a time to stand and fight, and a time to cut and run. And this seems like as good a time as any for a-cuttin' and a-runnin'.

I suppose we can chalk this one up as a learning experience. Turns out, there are plenty of things in life you can't fight:

* City hall

* Progress

* This feeling anymore (if, that is, we're to believe REO Speedwagon)

And you can add one more item to the short list of things you just can't fight. The holidays.

Or, more specifically, what's referred to as The Christmas Creep -- as each year the "reason for the season" creeps closer and closer toward Independence Day.

I envision a time, in the not-too-distant future, when the conventional autumnal advice will be: "Don't forget to turn your clocks back an hour, change the batteries in your smoke alarms AND set up the inflatable Santa in the front yard."

You know the old saying: "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. ... That, or have 'em whacked." Well, I can't afford the hit man, so I guess I'll be joining them. Ergo:

* I've already been rummaging around in the basement, pulling out boxes of Christmas decorations and strategically placing nutcrackers around the house.

* Not only will I be getting up on the roof to hang lights in the next day or two, once they are up I'M GOING TO TURN THEM ON EVERY NIGHT!

* I even started listening to Christmas music this weekend -- although, truthfully, I'm already pretty sick of it. But I suppose it's an acquired taste that I'll eventually get used to. That, or it'll drive me and my high-powered rifle to find a bell tower somewhere.

See, I could have easily forgiven the retailers for their eagerness. After all, they're only out to make money, and if you believe the statistics, stores net something like 40 percent of their yearly take during the holidays. It only makes sense they'd want to extend the seasonal shopping frenzy as long as humanly possible.

And, I suppose, the radio stations figured they were just giving listeners what they wanted. Plus, it's a fairly simple thing to avoid these stations if you want to; that's why they make preset buttons on car radios.

But I couldn't forgive my fellow human beings, many of whom are already decking their halls in earnest.

It has become painfully obvious to me that the traditional line in the sand -- waiting until after Thanksgiving Day to start your Christmas celebrations -- no longer works for the majority of Americans. So what we really need is a new line.

And as much as I'd like to say "Hey, how about Veterans Day?" I know that isn't very realistic.

So here's the deal: I won't make fun of you people anymore, as long as you wait until after the porch lights go out on All Hallow's Eve. Do that, and I'm cool with it.

And sorry, Thanksgiving. Guess you just got gobbled up by the Christmas juggernaut.

Ho! Get it? Gobbled up?

I sleigh me.

Mark Saal sees your "fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la," and raises you a "pa-rum-pum-pum-pum."