Holiday Tradition: The Cussing of the Lights

It was back in September...I was already drenched in the holiday spirit. What holiday? Columbus Day? Halloween? No, Christmas! Okay, I can understand if you're embarking on a major arts and crafts project, such as stitching a needlepoint stocking to hang on the mantel with care, but WHO in their right mind, for example, is going to start buying strands of lights this early in the game? This year, that would be our family.

My concern about purchasing holiday goodies so early is that I'll forget where I put them. I made that mistake one year with oodles of Christmas presents I bought in JUNE while we were on a cruise. Much like a squirrel stashing away nuts for winter, I forgot where I buried the gifts. Plus I have enough of a stockpile of greeting cards that one day I'll remember I bought a case of them at the "after holiday sale." Having such a plentiful supply will come in handy if I suddenly acquire a large number of new friends…perhaps the entire population of a small Caribbean Island.

Last year we finally tossed out the lights that could not be resurrected. Every year it was the same situation...we'd unpack the random boxes of lights and start plugging them in, only to discover we hadn't labeled the box "dead lights." Sure, one day in our free time we would sit in front of the television, fiddle with the 100 individual bulbs on about a dozen strands and perhaps give them hope for a bright future. Not!

So we're packrats. At least we have the good sense to give each strand a test-plug BEFORE we begin adorning the outdoor bushes. My neighbor shared a fun family tradition, "The Cussing of the Lights." This is what happens when you painstakingly strand to perfection before you test. Nothing fills one's heart with the holiday spirit more than expletives spewing from the mouth of a husband who's holding an extension cord in one hand and a beer in the other.

While some of our neighbors pay several hundreds of dollars to have a licensed and insured company come to their home and string the lights for them and end up with quite an impressive display, we still make our annual pilgrimage to Lake Lanier Islands to see what must be the equivalent of enough electrical output to illuminate an entire small Caribbean Island (even with all the blenders for tropical drinks running simultaneously).

One year we broke the tradition and trekked to an alleged wondrous display closer to home. After we waited in line for about as long as it would have taken us to drive to Lake Lanier, the most impressive display of lights we saw was the tail/brake lights of the SUV in front of us. We even tried to enliven the moment by playing our favorite Christmas CD. The festive music was drowned out by the children in the back seat giving their own commentary, "This stinks, can we just go home and watch our OWN lights short out?"

This comment was in reference to our illuminated reindeer that suffered from a series of issues throughout the season. We went with modest versus ostentatious with our ornamentation, so the "display" consists of two smaller lawn adornments: a doe that appears to be grazing and a buck with head upright. We did not collect the entire jumbo set, nor do the heads on these animals move.

Mr. Buck must have needed some male enhancement medication, as when we plugged him in his back end wouldn't light up. Soon thereafter we experienced what only can be described as a miraculous healing. There was no logical explanation to why his entire body was lit up.

There were also no witnesses, nor would anyone fess up to how our reindeer got into an amorous position. May your days be merry and bright!