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The Holiday’s So Bright, I’ve Gotta Wear Shades
12.24.03 | After a quarter century in Florida, you would think that I would be able to cope with Christmas without snow. But I can’t. And, in fact, I am getting increasingly irritated by those who seem to have made the adjustment, although I suspect that it is more of a severe maladjustment. As I wander about aimlessly in search of Christmas cheer, I find myself in a state of growing agitation. All of these lights and decorations look totally out of place surrounded by green rather than white. And the more lights there are, the worse it gets. Tackiness knows no bounds in Florida. But that’s another story. As I walk and drive through the area there are atrocities and anomalies galore. Do transplanted Yankees have some sort of strange need to bury themselves in lights? How else to explain the cascading avalanche of green, red and white light that gives a strange twilight glow to my neighborhood well after sunset? How can you possibly get excited about a Santa sleigh of lights, pulled by blinking reindeer, piercing the night through the fog born of 100 percent humidity? Then there are the torrents of lights: bushes covered with white lights blink on and off in a kind of studied random pattern, which, if you watch long enough, can leave you nauseous. Small hedges are covered with red or green lights; worse are multi-colored arrangements that appears to have been created by six monkeys throwing light bulbs at hedges. One is reminded of those strange modern art "events" of the ’60s that resulted in something that wasn’t quite art. One of my favorites is those big trees dripping with lights. Don’t they put you into the holiday mood? Or how about those houses with lights strung in all sorts of patterns — around windows, along roof lines, bordering door frames. Putting lights on the palm trees is the ultimate statement. It cries out for deprogramming, accomplished by spending two weeks in Maine or Minnesota in December. Did you ever see a palm tree that played "Silent Night" or had a Santa astride the fronds? Absolutely inspirational! The single most amazing piece of "schlock" I’ve seen is a neon sign spelling out "Happy Birthday Jesus," in the same way neon script signs spell out "Miller High Life" in the windows of neighborhood taverns in Pittsburgh or Milwaukee. Or maybe I mis-read it. Maybe it actually spelled out "Jesus, King of Beers." Whatever it was, it sent me over the edge. So is this what Christmas has come to mean in Florida? Are all these lights, tacky or otherwise, the result of winter withdrawal? Do Northerners overcompensate for the absence of snow and cold weather, for the lack of a real Christmas climate, by bombarding themselves and the rest of us with an obscene light show or a tacky Santa? Aren’t you glad Christmas comes only once a year? Richard C. Crepeau is a professor of history at the University of Central Florida in Orlando. He is the author of Baseball: America’s Diamond Mind (click here to purchase). Related Sites |
