My neighbor has thrown down the gauntlet.
Sunday he was out in front of his house, putting up his Christmas lights.
That means I need to get moving and get our lights up before our house looks like Bill Murray's boyhood home in “Scrooged.”
My dad was good about getting our lights up, every year hanging colored lights on the two arborvitae trees that stood on each side of the sidewalk leading up to our front door.
It was simple, but it was a tradition I loved.
Today, people don't decorate, but techorate. That's the new term, meaning when one puts up thousands of lights – today they're LED lights – and through the magic of computer technology, makes all of them twinkle and flash and dance and what-have-you, all to music.
I don't think my dad ever wanted to see his lights dance. Shoot, if they all lit up when he flipped the switch, he was a happy man.