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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2310673-Christmas-Decoration-Obsession
Rated: E · Fiction · Comedy · #2310673
Neighbors have a conflict over who puts up the best Christmas decoration display.
Christmas Decoration Obsession

Dad’s Christmas rivalry with Gary, our neighbor, began when each man started a family. Before children, both men made lackluster holiday home decorating efforts by attaching one lonely string of multicolored lights along the frontal roof edge of their small suburban ranch homes.

But that year, decorating requirements changed. Gary’s infant needed a plastic, glowing Santa Claus to light their small two-step concrete porch. I’m not sure how Sara, my eventual best friend, communicated her need to her father, but that’s how Gary explained it. Dad knew I not only needed Santa, but I needed his sleigh and nine reindeer lit by floodlights to satisfy me.

The following year, Gary decorated his shrubs and two evergreens with flashing strings of lights. At our house, across the street, a streak as wide as a body marred our roof snow. It stretched from a fake brick chimney to a suspended Santa clinging to the eve.

Not to be outdone, in the subsequent December, Gary added three inflatable snowmen. Two days later, Dad added Christmas carols blaring from a loudspeaker, and Rudolf’s new giant nose flashed a brilliant red, like those above STOP signs.

Their contest became an irrational competition. Whem Gary played Christmas movies on his garage door, Dad had to do one better.

That summer, a bowling alley went out of business. Dad bought their roof display of a bowling ball rolling up to pins and knocking them down. He erected it beside Rudolf.

Bumper to bumper traffic increased down our residential street for several holiday seasons. Gary bought a Santa suit and handed out candy canes. Dad dressed like the Grinch and handed out sugar cookies.

When my little brother, Brad, turned four, Dad had him handing out the cookies while he set me to handing out hand and heart-warming tasty hot chocolate.

Finally, it was my dad who went too far. An industrial sprayer hidden in one of our spruce trees turned our neighborhood into an oppressive evergreen car deodorant.

That year, the police parked patrol cars at both ends and declared our street an attractive nuisance.

WC: 348
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