My mother, a seemingly very classic Northeasterner and city-dweller in both taste and style, has a major soft spot for country Christmas songs. I don't know how it fits into her love of Babs, opera, or weird European experimental music from the 60s, but there you have it.
Of course, whether genetically handed down or because my spirit was broken by its constant presence during my formative years, I too cannot get enough of Willie Nelson and Kenny Rogers right now. As a kid growing up in New York, I loved all things related to the frontier life. I reread Laura Ingalls Wilder without pause, planned my Sunday afternoons around the two hour block of "Little House on the Prairie" and "Grizzly Adams," and, every December, made sure I did not miss "Christmas Comes to Willow Creek" (it stars Bo and Luke Duke, for pete's sake!) or Dolly Parton's "A Smokey Mountain Christmas."
And though I've always loved a country Christmas, now that I've married a Southern man - I've gone full tilt country. I'm openly listening to Dolly's "Hard Candy Christmas" on repeat (seriously, it's awesome and not only because it was sung in "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas") and tracking Kenny's Christmas Tour even though, that Southerner of a husband of mine may now be at his country Christmas breaking point...
