I adore Christmas lights. When I
was a kid we used to pile in the car and drive around town looking for homeowners
who made an effort. It helped that we were in New England, and by Christmas the
whole place was usually covered in new snow – which unlike old, dirty, slushy
snow is pretty and festive. You know,
New England-y.
There was one family who really did
it up. Perched on the roof was a Santa in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. The lawn was sprinkled with decorated trees and
Ye Olde Carolers. There was even holiday music piped out to the street. The week of Christmas a man dressed as Santa
and gave away cookies on the doorstep. ‘Course
this was a long time ago. Now he’d be suspected of being a pedophile.
When I first moved to California I
believed that that my best light-watching days were behind me. We barely have a winter, limited pine trees
and certainly no snow. Boy, was I wrong.
Not only does the DWP sponsor a holiday light extravaganza, but there are at least two neighborhoods
in Los Angeles County dubbed “Candy Cane Lane.” Any of the houses in these
neighborhoods easily put my childhood memories to shame. They can probably be seen
from the Space Station. Naturally I love
them.
When I lived in North Hollywood,
one of my neighbors was a little loony. And not just because he had a pack of
Pugs and Chihuahuas. Bad taste is part of what make holiday
decorations great, and he was going for the title.
Year round his tiny yard featured a 10-foot,
working Ferris wheel with stuffed animals in each car. During the holidays they all received Santa hats. But that was just the
start. There was also the first blow up
Grinch I’d ever seen, as well as Frosty the Snowman, Snoopy with Woodstock,
Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer and for good measure, a couple of old school,
white wire deer, trimmed with lights. It looked like a Christmas store had
thrown up. It was absolutely awesome!
I’m sure part of my attraction to
holiday decorations is that I’m Jewish, and while my family is not deeply
religious, we never even had a Hanukkah bush.
My dad was very tolerant, but he drew the line at trees and lights.
I didn’t exactly suffer. My aunt is
Catholic, and, every year she let my brother and I decorate her tree. She is, however, an extremely tasteful woman
and her tree is likewise. Mostly old beautiful ornaments, white lights and
actual popcorn strands. And tinsel. She
let us go wild with the tinsel.
Until about four years ago it didn’t
occur to me that I was an adult and could have a Hanukkah tree in my house if I
wanted. Maybe I had to wait until my dad died. All I know is that my last
year in North Hollywood, I bought a tiny living tree and a strand of lights and
set it up in my front window. It made me very, very, happy. Who knew I was that easily pleased?
When I moved to my little ranchette
in Chatsworth I continued the tradition. Every year I’d get a little rosemary
tree and decorate it. The rosemary made the whole house smell great, so I
convinced myself it was really there to help cover the smell of wet dog.
Nothing can cover the smell of wet dog.
Last year was my first foray into outdoor lights. Even though I adore those fat, old fashioned, multi-colored bulbs, I
reined myself in and bought strands of blue and white ones. I popped them out
of the box, carefully wrapped them around the round pen in the front yard
(Doesn’t EVERY house have a round pen in the front yard?) and plugged them in. It
looked awesome.
All my life I’d heard horror
stories about stringing holiday lights. The way people bitched and moaned and
carried on, you’d think they were being forced to build IKEA furniture. I thought
the whole thing was pretty easy. Obviously the kvetchers were complete morons.
This year I decided to go wild and
add a second strand of outdoor lights. But first I had to unpack the lights I'd carefully put away last year. It took
an hour to untangle them, but it was a pleasant day, so it wasn’t a big
deal.
Then I opened the new lights and
wrapped them around the fence. It didn’t have that Martha Stewart
look, so I undid them and rewrapped it. Again and
again. Finally it looked tolerable. I
plugged it in… and it all shorted out. I
might have said a few bad words. Or many.
But I’m not a quitter. So I trekked
back to Lowes, bought a bunch more lights and actually read the instructions. Apparently you can only connect a certain
number of strands together or they will blow. Ooops.
By the time I got back to my house
it was getting dark and I was over the whole thing. I rapidly hung the damn
lights however they came out of the box.
Still when I plugged them in, it was beautiful.
While I was in Lowes, I saw that they had a 10-foot blow-up rubber ducky wearing a Santa hat. That would look AMAZING
inside the round pen, wouldn’t it?
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