Between writing in the Evening Sun office and spending every other waking minute writing final reports for my graduate courses at home, I’m really getting used to the glow of a computer screen. So use to it, in fact, that everything else just seems to have a dull tint without a glowing white background. I can’t wait until my eyes are able to focus again.
Today is December 7th, “a date that will live in infamy” …. you know, for most. It’s astonishing how many people don’t realize what took place 70 years ago. Talk to people and study their reaction when you mention that today is December 7th. How many blank stares do you think you’ll get in return? How many won’t know what I’m talking about now? I understand the need to live through such a traumatic event such as the attack on Pearl Harbor to get the full emotional impact of its significance but shouldn’t people at least hear the date and think it sounds familiar? I know we aren’t at a similar point when I say “September, 11” but in time…
I’ve said that I’m Christmased-out (with the 24 hour Christmas radio stations and holiday sales) but I’m starting to feel a little jollier – I’m giving credit to the Christmas decorations for this “Christmas miracle.” After seeing East and West Parks lit up and houses dressed for the season, I think we have entered my favorite part of the year (and I know I’ll be singing a different tune when Christmas is over).
But with decorations going up, what’s the cut off limit? How much is too much? I know some community members don’t know when to call it quits, like a goldfish that doesn’t know when to stop eating. One of my neighbors has enough lights on his house to land an airplane; another house nearby has enough inflatable decorations to pass for a Macy’s parade. I’m not complaining too much, as long as it’s seasonal (I know that’s asking an awful lot for some people) but when a house reaches a level of decorations that even Clark Griswold would envy, it might be time to let off the gas a little.