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by Laurie Sontag
An award-winning humor column about life, parenting and accidental butt-cleavage sightings from the Gilroy Dispatch and the Humor News Service.
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Have a Very Testosterone Christmas!
What is it about Christmas lights that bring out the competitor in every man?
It's a testosterone fiesta--how else can you explain it? Most women don't care. We'd be happy with a couple lighted deer and some icicle lights. Okay, some women want more. But men take it to the extreme. It's five million lights, synchronized to music. Or a reindeer being chased by the Grinch. It's lights on the roof, the eaves, the windows, and the car's tires. Anything that's not moving and some stuff that is, are covered with lights.
It starts slow. One guy on the block (let's call him Ray) goes out to put the reindeer and the icicle lights up. But this year, Ray has a deer that moves its head. Never mind that it's not lifelike in any way, shape, or form. It moves its head.
That's enough to start the light wars on your street.
Then the guy at the other end of the block (let's call him Bob) looks outside and sees that Ray has a reindeer that moves. Now that puts his non-head waving deer to shame. So he heads out to Wal-Mart to get an animated deer. And, since more is always better, he gets a couple of them. So in front of Bob's house, there are four reindeer all jerking their heads back and forth or up and down.
Now the disease spreads. Across the street, Tom sees the deer herd and goes down to Wal-Mart, where he purchases an entire stable full of moving reindeer, plus 10,000 twinkling lights which he staples to his roof.
And it doesn't stop there.
No, if Tom has ten thousand lights stapled to his roof, then Ray decides he needs 20,000. And poor Bob looks pathetic with his four reindeer so he runs out and puts 30,000 lights up. Soon, all over the street, men are frantically stapling lights to their roofs.
And then the snowman frenzy begins.
That starts with one woman who brings home the cutest waving snowman to put in the yard. Her husband hooks it up and BOOM! Every house on the street needs at least one waving snowman. And, in the more is better tradition of holiday decorating, soon one man on the street puts a hundred waving snowmen in among the reindeer.
You see? It is a testosterone fiesta.
Then there are the houses that buck tradition (forgive the pun). Instead of waving snowmen and feeding deer, they have a waterfall made of blue lights and a flock of flamingoes with lights stuck up their tail feathers. Or moving angels whose wings keep time to "Hark the Herald Angels Sing."
Now, there is nothing wrong with this. My husband has been known to start light wars on our street. Our old house, which had a shingle roof and a traditional wood front was covered in so many lights I was afraid helicopters would mistake it for a landing pad.
And the minute our neighbor saw it, he ran out and put up a ton of those chasing lights that played music. You could not get to sleep in our neighborhood. It never got dark. The lights were on all night and the music would drive you to drink. There is nothing like waking up at two o'clock in the morning to bright lights and the tinny sound of the electronic version of "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer."
So I vowed when we moved that things would be different. I tried to pay the movers to lose the box of Christmas lights. But the movers were men. And being men, they knew the importance of the light wars. So that box was not lost. I mean, please! Any box labeled FRAGILE was crushed, boxes labeled "Laurie's Books" were lost, and the washer and dryer never made it off the truck. But those men made certain the boxes with the Christmas lights and the reindeer were placed in their own little corner of the garage where Harry would be sure to find them.
So I have learned my lesson. First, light wars are an innate part of men. They must have more power, more snowmen, more wattage. And it's okay. The PG&E for December will take all year to pay off--but I can handle that.
But I swear, the next time I move, I'm labeling the boxes of lights "Laurie's Books" and I'm packing the reindeer inside the washer and dryer.
Copyright 2001 Laurie Sontag