A neighbour has put their Christmas lights up already. It seems so early. As Loudon says (in my post below), Suddenly It’s Christmas. Though, to be fair, we Americans think of the Friday after Thanksgiving as officially heralding in the Christmas season, and that was last Friday, so I suppose everything is in order even here in the UK.
Maybe what worries me is that these lights are not lovely, twinkling white lights around an outside tree, giving it a new joyful character that we can all observe, turning us into excited children as we’re touched by a nostalgic appreciation of anything resembling a brightly lit Christmas tree and the air of anticipation that brings, and happily demonstrating that someone had sufficient holiday spirit to go to such trouble.
No, these are not those type of lights. These are all-singing (nearly), all-dancing, irritatingly constantly flashing multicoloured lights that leap from side to side on what is meant to depict some image I can’t make out, though I suspect it’s not the nativity scene. It is distracting, but at least I can close my curtains and it goes away. For the neighbours who live there, with that on the window, sitting in their living room must be like living in one of those cheap rooms on the wrong side of town in a film noir sleuth movie, with a red neon sign flashing just outside the window and giving the whole room that tint…and taint.
Maybe the real problem, the reason I cannot embrace these lights and I find words like ‘tacky’ and ‘tawdry’ cruelly popping into my head, is that I’ve just not faced up to the fact that December is next week. Seriously, it really is. Check the calendar; I’m telling the truth. In fact, now that I look at the calendar, I realise that this time next month, Christmas will be over; it's that soon. Oh dear. Best go back to ignoring it all really; it’s the only way to cope. Bah humbug.