Lights Up!

 Let's call it what is: A reason to skip Black Friday sales. 

The lights on the front yard at my house are as traditional as any post-Thanksgiving Sale-A-Bration. But I would not try and convince anyone that they represent anything more than my sideways ode to the season. The plywood cutouts of Santa and a disgruntled reindeer, along with a pointy-eared elf and Jack Skellington's ghost dog Zero hovering somewhere near the porch are as secular as the day is long. Which come to think of it isn't that long in December, but I suppose it reflects the vision I had when I was twelve and didn't have access to power tools and miles of extension cords.

For decades now, I have been taking the cue from the parting of the tryptophan haze to pull out the big plastic tub once again and commence to climb trees and scale the front of the house in an effort to bring light to all that darkness. I don' the fact that there is a streetlight on one corner of my yard discourage me. I don't let the monthlong bump in my electric bill sway me either. The advent of LED bulbs and the solar panels on our roof do a pretty good job of mitigating that expense. I suppose that's the money I could be spending on Black Friday Cyber Monday Buy Something Now Wednesday. 

But I don't. I am far too busy spreading my version of holiday cheer up and down the street where I live. Last year we received a note in our mailbox from a neighbor. Happily it was not a complaint about the rainbow burning through the late night, but instead a few words of appreciation for the consistent manner in which we light things up. 

It should be noted that the same fortitude that is involved in getting those strings of electrical joy up is also in evidence on January second when they all come down again. It's not that there is no need for illuminated happiness after the new year begins, it's just that I have self-imposed limits to how much jubilation I feel capable of sustaining. How much delight can I maintain without becoming sarcastic? I would hate to become a parody of myself. 

Even more than I already am? 

I head that.