Not a COMPLETE Grinch.

One thing I've noticed about Christmastime downtown is that all elevator etiquette goes out the, uh, door. People eat food. People share food. People crack jokes. People laugh. People rub shoulders with other people and beam at other people and talk about their relatives with other people. People help other people with their large packages. People lament over the mall traffic. People sing along with the Christmas elevator music. People sing DUETS along with the Christmas elevator music. "Baby, It's Cold Outside" is my favorite, but the alto part of "Joy to the World" is pretty cool also.

Every time those doors open, I step into a tiny magical world where everyone is relatively happy and welcoming and warm, and we are transported up and down, and time doesn't matter, we are treasuring every moment we share together.

I think egg nog may be to blame. I'm drinking some as I type. And it is VERY strong. God bless the ad biz.

Interacting with complete strangers in a tiny space is awkward, but this new cheery Christmas etiquette beats the old stuffy etiquette any day.

Whatever the case, I'll be sad to see all this cheer go when January 2nd rolls around and we're back to Rob Thomas tunes and endless, uncomfortable silence.