An ex-friend of mine recently dropped a bombshell on me.

I regretfully refer to him as an ex-friend because he cannot be my friend and proclaim to hate something so near and dear to my ear.

"I hate all Christmas music," my ex-friend said matter-of-factly.

I'm so incensed that I may further demote him to "acquaintance" after this revelation. I should probably refer to him as a 'soul-less warlock who sucks the joy out of life." I mean, seriously, who doesn't love Christmas music?

I was astonished upon hearing this news, and to be honest, a little frightened. I thought the ghosts of Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole and Andy Williams may suddenly appear and beat the roasted chestnuts out of my ex-friend for blaspheming them.

Editor's note: Uh, Andy Williams is still alive, genius.

Johnny Mathis?

Editor's note: Alive.

Jose Feliciano?

Editor's note: Mucho vivo.

Burl Ives?

Editor's note: Dead. Continue.

At any rate, I thought everyone felt the magic when singing Frosty the Snowman. I thought the warm feeling that accompanies the singing of "The Christmas Song" was universal. I thought all couples held hands and looked lovingly into each other's eyes while singing, "Baby, It's Cold Outside."

I thought anytime there are two people at loggerheads or two groups that can't agree (maybe like the recent NBA or NFL disputes), the two parties should be locked in a room and forced to listen to "O Holy Night." I guarantee that after hearing the hauntingly beautiful melody, they'd come out hugging and exchanging gifts of incense or maybe myrrh (if the myrrh store is still open).

I thought wrong, apparently.

Now I will concede that starting Christmas music on local radio stations in October may be a bit early for some. I will also point out the local stations on occasion play some strange holiday songs sung by strange people. But if the station is playing a classic Christmas carol by a classic Christmas crooner, my family has learned not to talk to me and just let me wallow in my Christmas song euphoria.

Of course, my kids don't want to hear Christmas songs, but then again they are teens and don't want to hear anyone sing a song that: a) has lyrics clearly pronounced and easy to understand; b) has a positive, uplifting message; and c) doesn't have a "Lil" in their name.

After seeing the pained expression on my face at his proclamation, my ex-friend was quick to point out he's not anti-Christmas, just anti-Christmas music. But the damage had been done. He is now grouped with the mean magician that locks Frosty in the greenhouse and forces him to melt. He is akin to the abominable snowman that scared the daylights out of Rudolph and his crew. He is listed among all the mean kids that laughed at Charlie Brown after he picked out a charming, albeit slightly puny, Christmas tree.

And now, since I've learned so many of my favorite singers are still alive, I'm going to forget all this negativity and see if Mel Torme is in concert.

Editor's note: Died in 1999.

Merry Christmas, joy-sucking warlock!

Scott Beck of St. Charles is a Web page specialist for a health foundation in St. Louis. He writes a semimonthly column for the Journal.