Songs are keepers of memories

Dec. 23—Mariah Carey is not the "Queen of Christmas."

I said what I said.

Well, sure, it's fun to thaw her out every Nov. 1 so she can belt out the ever-popular "All I Want for Christmas is You," but it kind of ends there.

I know, I know. She had a whole Christmas album in 1994 and that song, which I actually do like, finds its way back to No. 1 every holiday season.

But the "Queen of Christmas"? No.

Not to me, anyway.

This is a conversation I had with myself during a three-hour solo drive last month — just a few days after Mariah emerged from her 10-month deep freeze. (I'm not being sarcastic here. If you missed it, Google Mariah Carey thawing out. It was an actual commercial this year.)

But if she's not the queen of Christmas, who is? Immediately I thought of Darlene Love and "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)." David Letterman liked her so much he invited her to sing that song on "The Late Show" every December.

He even referred to her as the "Queen of Christmas." (Fun fact, Mariah covered that 1963 classic on her own Christmas album.)

So maybe the title belongs to Darlene Love? Or Ella Fitzgerald? Or Rosemary Clooney? Maybe even Kelly Clarkson?

I guess it's really just a personal choice.

If it's not obvious by now, I really love Christmas music.

A few weeks ago, I decided to start working on an expansive Christmas playlist. It's kind of odd that I didn't have one before. I had songs scattered here and there, but not on an actual Christmas playlist. Not since college anyway.

Somewhere in my closet is a bag of mixed CDs and a Milli Vanilli cassette tape. Among those CDs is a blue Memorex, burned from Napster, and neatly labeled "Christmas Music."

I was so excited to make that 12-song CD. I remember driving around Huntington listening to Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole and Perry Como. Mariah is probably on there, too. I'm not a monster, after all.

But though I loved that CD, I no longer need it and haven't listened to it in probably close to 15 years. Sirius XM has a thousand different Christmas stations each year, and Siri — when she isn't being stubborn — will play just about anything I want.

I finished my new digital playlist last weekend. With 78 songs, it clocks in at 4 hours and 4 minutes. Most of the songs are my personal favorites, but I got some help from my Facebook friends who suggested their own favorites as well.

As I sang, smiled, cried and danced — thank you, Darlene Love! — my way through the list the other day, I wondered how those songs made others feel.

Specifically, I wondered why my friends suggested those songs. I wanted to know which songs made them jolly and which ones hit them in their feels.

Turns out, it was an unnecessary question.

Nat King Cole makes us feel like we're actually sitting with family, safe and warm, roasting chestnuts on an open fire.

Judy Garland and Perry Como somehow break our hearts and fill them with hope simultaneously when they pledge, "I'll Be Home for Christmas."

Bing Crosby — and The Drifters, too — make us long for glistening treetops and a "White Christmas."

And we're all excited kids when Gene Autry sings about Rudolph and Burl Ives tells us about Frosty.

Music — Christmas music, in particular — is like a time machine.

More often than not, our favorite Christmas songs are our favorites because they remind us of those we love the most. These songs are the keepers of some of our most treasured memories.

Somewhere right now, someone is dancing and smiling while listening to Mariah. Somewhere right now, someone is crying while listening to that same song. The same with Darlene Love. The same with all 78 songs on "Michelle's Definitive Christmas Playlist."

I'm really happy with how it turned out, but I still can't tell you who the "Queen of Christmas" is. You say tomato and I say "tomahto" and all of that.

I can, however, with 92 percent certainty, tell you Mariah Carey doesn't really spend the majority of the year frozen in a giant block of ice.

Probably not, anyway.