Freaks

Every so often I get a hold of a word and chew it until all the flavor is gone. My current word is freaks. My neighbor - the inspiration.

About 10 days ago I pulled into our subdivision and what to my wondering eyes did appear? My neighbor had their Christmas trees (yes - that's plural - trees) up and lit. Freaks. 24 hours later the festival of lights had oozed it's way to the exterior in a billion gigawatts of glory. Freaks. There ought to be a law that you can not turn on your holiday lights until Thanksgiving evening. For crying out loud I still have pumpkins in my yard.

Tonight as I passed the freak show that was akin to a landing beacon welcoming extraterrestrials I thought "thank God they don't live right across the street". But as I crossed town I found, to my dismay, that the freakiness was contagious. I lost count of the number of houses displaying Christmas lights. What? They can't wait another 48 hours??

During my drive of lights I flipped through my XM Radio (which reminds me - send complaint to XM/Sirius. I mean really - Octane over SquiZZ ? It's 6pm where the hell is Grant Random? The execs need an ID check!) and found that freaks were taking up arms nationwide. There were now [gasp] holiday channels playing nothing but Christmas music 24/7.

Just when I thought I couldn't take another Hallmark moment I pulled up to the stop light and saw the most beautiful sight. A tiny house with one of those huge, hideous airblown turkeys and orange icicle lights. Hallelujah! The world had not gone mad! I was not alone in holding on to the last vestige of Autumn!

As the light turned green I took one last look and felt a bit less Grinchy. After all, I was on my way to meet the hubby and buy new Christmas lights. Freaks.