Jeff: So much separation!
Jason: Who names a Christmas song "It Doesn’t Have To Be That Way?" That’s an awful choice for a title.
Jeff: A musical genius.
Jason: I need to give props to two readers – woofpop and J.A. Bartlett of The Hits Just Keep On Comin’ – who both suggested this song. Separately. That’s both awesome and a little sad.
Jeff: The Christmas carols sound like blues, but the choir is not to blame.
Jason: You know who’s to blame? Fogelberg.
Jeff: He’ll be dropping by today, because they could get it together tonight. Croce was fucking smooth.
Jason: No, that’s an awkward lyric. I disagree with you.
Jeff: He’s telling her to get ready for some rough ridin’.
Jason: Ha! "It doesn’t have to be that way. I could give it to you all night." Jeff: He’s the Smoove B of Mellow Gold.
Jason: Wow. I hope SOMEBODY else gets that reference.
Jason: Croce sounds wimpy…but not necessarily mellow. There aren’t any backing vocals, which is a shame. Still, this is vintage Croce.
Jeff: Who needs backing vocals when you’ve got Croce? Backing vocals would ruin the purity of the Croach.
Jason: The Croach?
Jeff: This should have been titled "I Will Slip You My Yuletide Sting."
Jason: Oh shit, the song is over! It’s over before it’s begun!
Jeff: He’s got more important things to do.
Jason: Like schtupping.
Jeff: He was unbuckling his pants during the solo.
Jeff: Unrolling the bearskin rug.
Jason: Waxing his moustache. If you know what I mean.
Jeff: Warming up "Little Jim"
Jason: You don’t mess around with Little Jim.
Jeff: No, you sure don’t.
Jason: Turns out that "Leroy Brown" was just his codename for anal sex.
Jeff: She’s going to be walking funny the day after Christmas. But, of course, it didn’t have to be that way.