It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Time to make like the Griswolds from “Christmas Vacation” and trot out the holiday decorations. Back in the day it was simple: put a wreath on the door, and if you wanted to get really fancy, string some lights along the windows. That’s the way we did it at my house.
But like everything in the country that’s gotten bigger and wider, so too have the decorations that now are sprawled across our lawns.
I wish I could say I had not been suckered in. But it appears my display, based on the reviews from family and neighbors, is close to being on the edge. Oh, not like the ones that gobble up all the local electricity and appear on newscasts. But maybe not the “Hallmark card” look either.
It started with the snowman. I was looking for a way to really set my house apart. And Frosty filled the bill: about six feet tall, four feet wide.
It was cute for a while, blowing up at night and deflating during the day.
I could say, “Oh, my kids just love it.” Even my wife went along. But then with my daughter’s graduating from PG-13 to R, the gig was up.
I went to pull the plug on Frosty. But much to my surprise, the two-year-old girl across the street came to my rescue. Her parents told me she cried and cried when the snowman disappeared. So Frosty made a comeback.
Not everyone was thrilled. Take my next door neighbor, whom I’ll call Bill. He observed that when the snowman was out of air on the lawn, it looked like it was sleeping off a night at the bars.
The next morning I came out, and there was an empty bottle of wine next to Frosty. Real funny.
Not funny when I picked up the bottle and a woman walking her dog stared at me. “This is my neighbor’s joke,” I said. She just continued staring.
I’ll get even with Bill. But even my somewhat gaudy decorations are beginning to look modest compared to today’s “Santa-on-steroids” blowups.
My wife is hoping to at least pivot to a more traditional look, encouraging me to get on an 80-foot ladder to place a tiny wreath near the chimney. I’m sure I’ll be making like Clark Griswold soon.
The little girl across the street now has a little brother, so I figure Frosty is good for a few more years.
And now I’ve got Halloween decorations too. But I haven’t given in to the really stupid blowup Thanksgiving turkeys. I have my standards.
Then again, there’s always next year.