A colleague walked into one of the many meetings we have around here and proudly announced that she had seen Christmas decorations on display at a local store.

"They were even playing Christmas music," she said, happily.

Bah. I thought about firing her on the spot, but "being infected with the Christmas spirit" didn't really seem like a fireable offense. Besides, she's really good at her job.

But her announcement did remind me that it's time for my futile annual rant against the idea of celebrating Christmas before we've even finished eating the Halloween candy.

I've written this before. But it obviously bears repeating. I don't believe Christmas should be celebrated until Santa Claus is spotted in Herald Square at the end of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

This is a long-held belief. It goes all the way back to my childhood. It was a big deal to see Santa at the end of the parade, because it was always the first time the big guy was seen each year.

My cousins and I used to watch the parade in great anticipation, knowing that, even though we were still a couple of hours away from Thanksgiving dinner, the Christmas season was about to begin.

Frankly, it doesn't need to begin any sooner. As it is now, Thanksgiving gets trampled in the rush to Christmas, and I hate that because Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

I truly believe that men, if they told the truth, would admit they like Thanksgiving better than Christmas. That's because Thanksgiving is a man's holiday. There's always plenty of food and plenty of football on Thanksgiving, and that's two of our favorite things.

Christmas, on the other hand, has become all about going back and forth to the malls searching for gifts. It's all about wrapping the gifts in pretty paper and making pretty bows and adding a pretty tag.

Men are lucky we can get our shoes tied in the morning. Why do you think loafers are so popular? We can't make pretty bows. If there's not already a pretty bow in the bag of wrapping paper left over from last year, the present will just have to go without a bow.

My friends think I hate Christmas. They call me the Grinch.

"You're a Grinch," they say.

Perhaps. But the Grinch didn't hate Christmas for the whole show. By the end, after his heart grew three sizes that day, he was carving the roast beast for little Cindy Lou Who.

And like the Grinch, I'll soon come around, too. But not until December.

But unlike the Grinch, I've never hated Christmas. I just hate the idea of dragging out the holiday for so long that it loses what makes it so special.

I understand why this happens, even if I don't like it. It's all about retail sales. Stores depend on a big Christmas season to make ends meet for the whole year. So the sooner they can start the Christmas season and get us into the store buying gifts, the better it is for them.

(They do the same thing — on a smaller scale — with other holidays. Just watch what happens a few days after Christmas. The Valentine's Day merchandise will be out.)

But I don't need to hear "White Christmas" on the radio when I'm on my way to vote. I don't need to see a store full of tinsel and ornaments and artificial trees when it's still 60 degrees outside. And I don't need to see one commercial after another urging me to buy stuff before I've eaten the first piece of turkey on Thanksgiving Day.

Call me a Grinch if you want.

But at least all the Whos down in Whoville had the decency to wait until Christmas Eve to start celebrating.

Mitch Clarke is executive editor of The Times. His column appears Sundays. Read previous columns at gainesvilletimes.com/mitch. Follow him on Twitter @MitchTimes.