Hi, I’m Dan… and The Holidays Make Me Blarknard, Part I

A little business up front.

  • Hi. I’m Dan. This is my blog. Because of the environment we live in, where somebody says something that could have been said on TV in the 70s and it would have been viewed as “racy”, but now would be a career ender, I had decided to keep it anonymous. However, since my first post it has dawned on me that I’m about as controversial as warm milk. So, yeah, it’s me. My name is Daniel William Henry, Bill Daniels is sort of an anagram of that (not a literal anagram, but a mishmash of names and nicknames).
  • You may have noticed the site has taken a very utilitarian look with all the charm of a high school newspaper (actually  high school newspapers might be fancier now days, if they have them.   They’re probably all websites).  This is because I got sick of trying to get my Cubs logos and pictures of Wrigley field in there.  So here it is.  Just words.  I hope they’re vaguely humorous.

Moving on to business.  The holidays make me blarknard.  Some of it has to do with what the kids want, or that they won’t play with “outside toys”.  Some of it has to do with my wife bugging me to wrap presents.  Some of it has to do with the fact my cars are dirty and people won’t stop leaving fast food cups and old books in them.  This isn’t a holiday specific concern.  I can rant about this pretty much any time.

But that’s not what’s bothering me tonight.  Tonight it’s holiday decorating.  Fall decorating consists of hanging a wreath.  My wife handles it.  Christmas is a different matter.  The Friday after Thanksgiving my parents had the kids from around 4pm until 10:30 or 11:00pm.  What could a couple of parents do with this time?  When my wife asked what I wanted to do, I said “take a nap and binge watch Justified, but you don’t”.  And I was right (I always am, it’s not even worth keeping track of), she had no interest in my idea.  So, we turned toward decorating.

We moved this year, so we looked at the front facing windows of the house, and decided how many trees we needed. We had a slight disagreement about if the double window in our forward facing closet needed one or two.  I felt we needed two. Of course, I was right. We had two 4′ white lighted trees, so we needed one for the hall window, one for the gameroom, one more for the closet, and a tall one for the dining room.  Then our normal tree in the back of the house.  This is 5 front facing trees, and the real one with presents under it in the living room, that faces the back of the house.

First, we decorated the two largest bushes with all the white lights we had, and put them on a remote control.  When men put something on a remote control, they get a great sense of power, not unlike the Wright Brothers felt, or perhaps the guy who invented that remote.  So with warmth in the cockles of my heart, we set out to walmart for the necessary trees, and extension cords that all had a footswitch. This doesn’t make you feel like Orville and Wilbur, but maybe like the guy who figured out how to put that little air vent on the plane so  you’re not having a claustrophobic panic attack before you take off.  Also, when we got to the tree store, my wife decided we needed the “next to the door trees”.  We’re now up to seven front facing trees.

I had it all done before my parents got home, which made me pretty proud.  The streetlight in my yard ruins the effect, but it looks like this:

It’s 7 trees and two bushes.  When I asked about doing the garage windows I sort of got a bit of a “what the hell is wrong with you look”.  So I stopped there.

I was quite proud, so many decorations in such a timely fashion.

Then there’s the neighbor.  He’s the nicest guy in the world.  He’s retired.  His yard is flawless and decorated.  I hate yardwork.  This is not a new development. I hated it at 14, nothing has changed.  He loves it.  He decorated the following day.  He put up 3 lighted animatronic deer, an angel, lit the row of bushes between our yards (which he politely asked my permission to put stonework around so the mulch didn’t move in the rain), a lighted snowman (maybe inflatable).  He lit something I can’t identify on his front porch.  He has a large Merry Christmas sign over the porch.  To cap things off, the top of each window has a lit wreath on top part of the window, and a candle on the bottom.

And he has no streetlight to detract. I’d show a picture, but I’m protecting his innocence.  I’ve been out Griswolded.  It makes me blarknard,  It’s a word you know.  You can even get it on a mug for $25.  I don’t see any proceeds in case you’re wondering.  That makes me… blarknard.  Apparently, a lot of things bother me.

If you read this and hate it, tell me.  If you enjoyed it, please tell a friend.

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