Decorating for the Holidays

“‘And they’re hanging their stockings!’ he snarled with a sneer. ‘Tomorrow is Christmas! It’s practically here!’”
- The Grinch

“He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and forgotten the way out again. It was old enough now, and dreary enough, for nobody lived in it but Scrooge, the other rooms being all let out as offices. The yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew its every stone, was fain to grope with his hands. The fog and frost so hung about the black old gateway of the house, that it seemed as if the Genius of the Weather sat in mournful meditation on the threshold.”
- A description of Ebeneezer Scrooge’s house from A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens

“Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact, that Scrooge had seen it, night and morning, during his whole residence in that place; also that Scrooge had as little of what is called fancy about him as any man in the city of London, even including — which is a bold word — the corporation, aldermen, and livery. Let it also be borne in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley, since his last mention of his seven years’ dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change — not a knocker, but Marley’s face.”
- A description of Ebeneezer Scrooge’s door from A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens

(Originally written December 18th, 2002)

How do you define “pointlessness”?

I define it as an act one does that makes absolutely no difference in his life or in the lives of others. It is an act that not only takes a great effort to achieve but has absolutely no reward. It is an act that can cause more trouble than enhancement.

And hence the reason I don’t like to decorate for the holidays.

One of the nuances of my house is it has no electrical outlet on the front porch. I have discovered it’s a pain in the ass to do any major gardening without power clippers and it’s a major blessing. I can’t put Christmas lights on the house. When people ask me why I don’t decorate, I tell them a half truth.

“I can’t power the lights. So, why should I hang them?”

I can, however, hang them in the back of the house. I have an outlet there. I really don’t have a “backyard” in my development. The stretch of land my building is on is very much like the state of Florida, in the sense that it’s the tip of a cul de sac. The front of the house is equally visible as the back of the house. Any decorating I do would look just as tasteful. Decorating can be done. Icicle lights could be hung. Wreaths could be posted by the balcony with care in hopes that my neighbors soon would be there.

And I could probably do it too. But why should I?

Is it to make a public statement of my religion? That can’t be it. I’m an Agnostic and my wife is a Pagan. Is it to say I can waste just as much power as my neighbors? Well, that’s nice, but I’ll save my electrical costs for the summer when I really need them. Is it to say that my attic space is greater than other people’s and I spent my money on holiday glow in the dark stuff? I’d like to think not.

Maybe it’s because I’m a lazy shit. Hmmmmm. Close, but no cigar.

What I can tell you is laziness is definitely a factor in what stops me from rummaging through the attic to pull out lights, ornaments, candles, wreaths, and the artificial tree. I really don’t like going up there. I have a perpetual nightmare of standing up straight in the attic and not just hitting my head on the ceiling roof but having a rusty nail embedded in my head. Call me silly but I don’t need a double injury of a case of lockjaw and a lobotomy.

I think it goes back to my early teens. While I was living in my parents house from age 11 or 12, it was my responsibility to put up the lights. The first year I put up the lights with my father. I handed him the lights while shivering in the New Jersey December cold. But it wasn’t so bad, I got to be with my father doing “grown up” things. I learned the value of doing something right with quality.

And I got to update my personal repertoire of foul language.

Even now, when doing a project that isn’t going well or as well as it’s supposed to, I find myself channeling to my still living father. I start speaking in tongues. And they are not tongues that children should ever be allowed to hear. They are quite creative though. I had learned that the word f#%k is a verb, adjective, noun, adverb, and gerund phrase. It is also the supplement and complement to many other swear words. Working with my father is very educational. Remember kiddies, grammar is important.

It was always fun.

Then when I got to age 13 or 14, it was my job to do it alone. Well, that sucked. As the eldest and the only male child in the household, winter chores and crappy indentured servant work fell to me. These tasks included the shoveling the walk, sidewalk, and driveway*, the putting up and taking down of outdoor Christmas decorations, the transporting of firewood from the bottom of the backyard to the house**, and many, many, other assorted back breaking jobs. My sisters couldn’t do that because, that “wasn’t what girls did”. And that was just the winter work. I’m sure if we had a horse stable, I’d have been shoveling manure all year round.

Now picture if you will a 13 year old, on a ladder, mounted on the snow or ice. It is late November or early December. He is not wearing gloves because he has to feel where the notch of an outdoor light is and where the drilled slot on the roof is. It is bitterly cold. Before the end of the project, I’ve fallen on my ass a couple of times. And my reward for doing this was… more work. Wreaths and other paraphernalia were hung later on. My parents liked to be decorative.

That was the first year. As I got older, I needed to supplement my allowance*** with other work. My father got me a job working at a landscaping place, under the table, for minimum wage ($3.25 an hour plus tips) selling and carrying Christmas trees. This was outdoor work and was from morning until night on the weekends. The owner of the place paid me cash at the end of the day. I think my Dad did this to “build character”. I did this to buy Christmas presents and have some money to spend on myself, later on in the year.

In addition to this, I would supplement my winter income with shoveling other people’s driveways and walks for five bucks a shot. This was done usually on snow days from school. The moment I found out that there was no school that day, I was up bright and early to get a head start on other kids that would be trying the same thing. If I was lucky I’d make $25 to $40 bucks that day (all depending on the amount of snow fall and quality of it. Wet snow is heavier than dry snow. If it was a lot, 5 driveways would be exhausting with only one shovel.).

But I hate to say it, my father was right, it did build character. Later on when I had started to work at Six Flags Great Adventure after the season ended in November, steam blasting garbage cans wasn’t such a hard thing to do. A young college student does need beer money.

Last night, I got to relive some of the old times with my Dad. He still decorates, but doesn’t put up the lights now. We had a new adventure - wreath hanging. After shooting the bull with Dad for an hour or so, and him showing me the balled tree he’s going to use this year¥, he decided to start working on some of the Christmas decorating for this year. Since I was there, I thought I’d lend a hand. Well, it was fun. We headed up to the garage attic, to get wreaths and the new magnets he’d gotten from a “Day after Christmas” sale last year.

They are a neat invention using the principles of magnetism, you can hang a wreath outside the window off of a magnetic hook. One magnet on the inside of the window and the other magnet on the outside. I admit it sounded good.

So, very much like spelunking, we headed up the rickety ceiling ladder where many a person before me has twisted an ankle and taken a header to a concrete floor. It’s very much like an archeologist going after lost treasure. There were old toys, ski equipment, winter clothes, and of course, Christmas stuff. There was a lot of Christmas stuff. This is what happens when you live in a house for over 35 years. The accumulation of holiday decoration becomes tremendous. After searching through many, many, boxes marked “X-MAS” we found the magnets.

Dad still hasn’t lost his creative touch in all words profane. It still makes me tingly inside.

We grabbed the magnets, some “light sensitive” electric candles with suction cup mantles, wreaths, and a couple of other things and headed down to the rec room. We laid out all of the stuff and started on our task.

There are seven exposed windows to the facade of my parents house. I know this intimately. Six of the windows are easily accessible. Four of the windows are on the ground floor. The one window that is not accessible will require a large ladder and an unspecified amount of circus acrobatics.

Now, the requirements of the task are as follows:

1. Put one wreath in every window.
2. Mount one candle in the middle of each wreath.
3. Make sure all wreaths are at the same relative height.
4. One magnet on the inside to secure the magnet on the outside to hang the wreath.

Sounds easy, doesn’t it. Here are the problems we encountered.

• Because the windows are double-paned, there is an air gap between each magnet. This makes the hold between the very strong magnets significantly weaker.
• Storm windows in two of the windows keep the back mounting of the magnet from being set in the same place relative to the rest of the wreaths.
• The suction cups for the light sensitive electric candles could not be posted on the same place because two of the windows have independent window pane separators.
• The wreaths are now heavier than the strength of the magnets.
• The plastic used to hang the wreath is too flimsy to support the weight of the wreath.

This didn’t stop us. My father is a man of ingenuity and a man on a mission. Plus, there are still profanities I have yet to learn.

There was nothing we could do about the strength of the magnets except pray to whatever Christmas wreath decoration god there was that this would stay put. I think it was a matter of reinforcement. As far as the plastic holders were concerned, I suggested wire similar to what was used for ornament hangings. My father had something better, wire that was similar to the twisties used to close packages of bread. That helped balance the wreath on the magnet and keep it “relatively” secure.

Dad was worried about pressing the suction cup too hard against the glass window for obvious reasons. He did manage to make the candle stay for as long as I was in the house. I left shortly after that having my fill of Christmas decoration nostalgia and knowing I had to have dinner ready for my wife. Before I’d left, I suggested that he refrain from putting the wreath in the inaccessible window. I don’t know if he listened. But I stated my case as the weighing of probable injury against holiday aesthetics. I’m sure I’ll find out what he did before Christmas.

But the one thing that sticks with me about all of this is this. Why? Why would anyone wish to risk probable injury, frustration, probable insanity, and then put it all away again in January. It’s not like the Vatican is going to have a US inspection of who has the best Christmas lights and it’s not like Santa Claus is not going to find your house if it’s not all lit up. I think it’s because it’s been done for so many decades that people feel it’s what they are supposed to do.

I’m not a real big fan of that concept.

Should the mood strike me, I might do something. But most likely, it won’t.

The big thing with me is that it’s just a tremendous hassle. Go into the attic, get the stuff, get the tree, assemble the tree, decorate the tree, decorate the house, decorate the outside. That’s the easy part. Here’s the extra stuff that pet owners have to do.

Once the tree is decorated - redogproof the house.

That means anything that is connected, electrical, and or “tree like” must be disconnected and barricaded anytime we leave the house. Think about it. I just put a tree in my house. My dogs don’t know the difference between regular tree (outside) and Christmas tree (inside). I will have just installed a new toilet area for my dogs. Plus the little figurines and ornaments look very much like chew toys. This is a potential for doggie disaster. Chewed plastic, chewed ornament glass, chewed figurines, a nativity set that might look like a scene from Blackhawk Down. The perils are endless.

My wife suggested we make a Yule Log. This is another Christmas pagan thing that makes sense. Instead of killing a tree, get a log and drill some holes in it for candles. It’s cheaper, economical, and ecologically sound. Plus, the dogs won’t be able to eat it. If she wants it, I won’t stop her from doing it.

Meanwhile, just remember, if you are going to come to my house for Christmas, look for the one dark house on the block. That’s mine.

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*- Oldest male child, otherwise defined as live in slave.
**- Our backyard is on top of a natural slope. I had to put the stuff in a wheel barrel and pull it uphill with little traction.
***- A big 3 to 5 bucks a week until I was 18 and supplemented my income with a lawn cutting service I made and kept the money to sustain me for the year.
¥ - My father is planning to block the fence the township built behind his house with evergreen trees. One of these balled trees is what he’s using for Christmas. Pretty smart.