SPECIAL TO THE SOMERS RECORD (12-14-17)
We're having a little trouble staying current on our holiday spirit. We are just now feeling our Thanksgiving spirit after finally exorcising our Halloween spirit. So we headed over to the Somers Christmas tree lighting ceremony last Sunday to try and catch up. You could see the cheerful, dancing lights all the way from Fireman's Field where we parked, but it turned out to be a police car directing traffic and me without my glasses.
We brought the famous Gidget-dog with us, who looks a little like a reindeer if you are not too picky. She was quite popular among the smaller set, and got manhandled by kids, which is much worse than getting manhandled by men, not that I am an expert.
We strolled around a little and took a look at the tree. They have a ruler there in case you want to take a photo op with your kids, and see how much it has grown. The ruler didn't look one inch taller than last year, but the tree looked a little wider, join the club.
The turnout was pretty good, but it looked like the hot cocoa was going fast. I was going to bribe one of the Girl Scouts to save me a cup, in case they were working on a merit badge for "The Way the World REALLY Works," but they were packing up before I could make a "charitable donation." I realized I'd better not pout, I'd better watch out, 'cause Santa Claus was coming out the door.
He had been inside the Elephant Hotel, posing for photos with children. His Instagram account doesn't have as many followers as a Kim Kardashian maybe, but to his credit he never had shade thrown at him by Taylor Swift. He sauntered through, escorted by a dedicated security force and bearing candy canes. A switch was thrown and the evergreen lit up like a Christmas tree, to the delight of the crowd.
Every year there is a new invention that threatens to revolutionize the Christmas spirit, in case a traditional Christmas tree is not high-tech enough for you. This year they came up with this device that is essentially a disco ball that sits on your front lawn and shines a storm of laser light beams onto your home in the shape of snowflakes or stars or whatever else they can think of. I had fantasy of what would happen if I bought one:
I installed the rotating Christmas disco light near my driveway, plugged it in and let the disturbing array of designs flash upon my shingles, possibly disturbing air traffic patterns in the area. I gazed upon the display with satisfaction and holiday cheer, wishing that I had some Donna Summer records to go with it. As a migraine headache started to cloud my ability to think straight, I went inside.
I was in the middle of dinner when outside the window there arose such a clatter, I threw up the sash to see what was the matter. I've never thrown up a sash before, and don't recall even eating one. I didn't see anything amiss, so I went out to have a look. All up and down the front of my house, every housecat in the neighborhood was climbing and jumping, chasing those stupid laser dots all over the place. "Get OFF the house, you idiots!" I yelled, calling attention to myself and the unfortunate fact that I was still holding half a tunafish sandwich. I had three seconds to dash inside, barricade the front door and lock myself in the bathroom, and I stayed there until New Year's Eve.
We're having a little trouble staying current on our holiday spirit. We are just now feeling our Thanksgiving spirit after finally exorcising our Halloween spirit. So we headed over to the Somers Christmas tree lighting ceremony last Sunday to try and catch up. You could see the cheerful, dancing lights all the way from Fireman's Field where we parked, but it turned out to be a police car directing traffic and me without my glasses.
We brought the famous Gidget-dog with us, who looks a little like a reindeer if you are not too picky. She was quite popular among the smaller set, and got manhandled by kids, which is much worse than getting manhandled by men, not that I am an expert.
We strolled around a little and took a look at the tree. They have a ruler there in case you want to take a photo op with your kids, and see how much it has grown. The ruler didn't look one inch taller than last year, but the tree looked a little wider, join the club.
The turnout was pretty good, but it looked like the hot cocoa was going fast. I was going to bribe one of the Girl Scouts to save me a cup, in case they were working on a merit badge for "The Way the World REALLY Works," but they were packing up before I could make a "charitable donation." I realized I'd better not pout, I'd better watch out, 'cause Santa Claus was coming out the door.
He had been inside the Elephant Hotel, posing for photos with children. His Instagram account doesn't have as many followers as a Kim Kardashian maybe, but to his credit he never had shade thrown at him by Taylor Swift. He sauntered through, escorted by a dedicated security force and bearing candy canes. A switch was thrown and the evergreen lit up like a Christmas tree, to the delight of the crowd.
Every year there is a new invention that threatens to revolutionize the Christmas spirit, in case a traditional Christmas tree is not high-tech enough for you. This year they came up with this device that is essentially a disco ball that sits on your front lawn and shines a storm of laser light beams onto your home in the shape of snowflakes or stars or whatever else they can think of. I had fantasy of what would happen if I bought one:
I installed the rotating Christmas disco light near my driveway, plugged it in and let the disturbing array of designs flash upon my shingles, possibly disturbing air traffic patterns in the area. I gazed upon the display with satisfaction and holiday cheer, wishing that I had some Donna Summer records to go with it. As a migraine headache started to cloud my ability to think straight, I went inside.
I was in the middle of dinner when outside the window there arose such a clatter, I threw up the sash to see what was the matter. I've never thrown up a sash before, and don't recall even eating one. I didn't see anything amiss, so I went out to have a look. All up and down the front of my house, every housecat in the neighborhood was climbing and jumping, chasing those stupid laser dots all over the place. "Get OFF the house, you idiots!" I yelled, calling attention to myself and the unfortunate fact that I was still holding half a tunafish sandwich. I had three seconds to dash inside, barricade the front door and lock myself in the bathroom, and I stayed there until New Year's Eve.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment