Thank heaven we are back in the festive Season of Incredibly Bad Music. It certainly takes our minds off the snow outside and frozen windshields. It is encouraging how mindlessly creative we humans have become in the arena of really bad music.

I recall as a child all the carols about a snowman who came to life or of a night that was very silent, due, I suppose because no one had cell phones then. Now we have progressed beyond mere repetition of the old favourites, although there are the solid traditionalists who stick with the old carols.

I haven't heard a hip-hop artist do Frosty the Snowman yet, but I'm sure it's coming. We have had, we all remember, the crooners crooning Little Drummer Boy, especially Dean Martin, this was after he went blind and sang lying down. Maybe that was Perry Como. I don't remember. I was young-when our memories are really bad.

One of the great innovations in seasonal festive music was the introduction of dogs singing. German shepherds. They didn't really sing; they barked in a sort of harmony. I could recognize Frosty the Snowman, even Ole Holy Night and Old Tiger Balm.

The year following every cute animal was into the act, and the most popular were a singing duet of chipmunks from Deschênes. You could recognize everything they sang, more or less. That's a characteristic of Deschénes singing.

Dogs barking in unison or chipmunks singing were, of course, only the immaturities of the holiday music industry. Today, the Incredibly Bad Music Season has unfolded with the grace of the Indianapolis 500, and it's pinnacle-actually having been reached several years ago, and just repeated year after year since--is the famous Screaming Women.

We should be proud that the most famous is a Canadian, Celine Dion. She can scream much higher, louder, and longer than everyone, especially Coco Taylor. Others who are big hits at the local mall include Mariah Carey, who can sort of warble as she hits the piercingly high notes (well, not really notes).

And the local mall is the important point here. Where would the Season of Incredibly Bad Music be without a local mall?

In fact, while we all think the Season is designed to award really, really bad singing, it is actually built around awarding the local mall which can play the worst music for the longest time at the highest volume--with bonus points for the most repetitions of any one song.

Most people who are unfamiliar with the inner workings of modern malls are probably unaware of how the Incredibly Bad Music Competition, which caps off the Season, is decided. I can reveal the truth now (because no one is listening).

Teams of CLSC workers tour the lunch rooms, wash rooms, and change rooms of all the establishments in each mall. They count all the employees who are crouched whimpering in the corners or who are banging their heads on the wall. They tabulate the numbers, and compare them with last year's winning scores. And there you have the result.

Some traditions should never die.

Others should.

Fred Ryan is publisher of Quebec's Aylmer Bulletin, West Quebec Post, and the Pontiac Journal. He is also a director of the Quebec Community Newspapers Association.

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Copyright © 2003 Fred Ryan/Log Cabin Chronicles/12.03