So, it's Christmastime. Blah, blah, blah. I used to really like this time of year. The changing of the seasons bringing the first winter snowfall. Christmas parties with friends and family. Great food and company. Time off of school. I could go on. But now, I'm not a big fan of "the holidays".
There are several reasons, some petty and some depressing, as to why I could do without all the hoopla that comes with Christmas, but I'm sure it's mostly just because I'm getting older. Bah humbug.
Nevertheless, I was reminded today of why I would prefer we just skip from Halloween right into New Year's. This reminder came in the form of one of the strangest festive decor that has some how become acceptable in these parts. That would be the car wreath.
The only thing that comes to mind when I see one of these hideous disasters is "why?!". Why, why, why, why, why!? Oh, and the desire to rip off your entire front grill of your car. Wait, it's usually a van. Does this phenomenon occur in other areas of the world, or is this just another gem of the Midwest?
What's even worse that fastening a car wreath to your precious grocery-getter is a car wreath that's been rigged with lighting. Now, I'm no mechanic, nor am I a car wreath expert (thank God) so I have no idea where the light generator comes from. Are they battery operated and do you have to turn on a switch every time you cruise around town so that everyone can see your sweet light show? And when you get home do you have to remember to shut off the switch so that you don't run out you're double A's? Or is your lighted beauty hooked up to your car somehow and automatically turns on and off on it's own? Fancy.
Car wreaths, I hate you. You are one of the tackiest Christmas decorations I have come across in my day (that includes that air pump operated merry-go-round that gets blown over and rolls into the street). If you cross my path I can't guarantee you'll be safe, because I want you in the trash. Or at least on a door where you belong. And if you are a culprit of this seasonal eyesore, I'm not afraid to tell you that I hate you too.... and so do your kids, they're just too embarrassed to tell you.
1 comment:
In the building my brother and Amy used to live in all the residents had different types of wreaths and Amy would describe how each wreath represented their personalities. It was silly.
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