Tacky

      So see if this doesn't date me: There was a time in my life when my fondest dream was to have a truly elegant Christmas tree. The kind with white lights and coordinating Victorian ornaments of beige lace and dusty rose silk. That would be the height of class.
      Unfortunately for my dream, but fortunately for my fashion sense, I married Eric. When I suggested that all-white lights -- and perhaps a theme -- might be good for our first tree, he told me that he really wanted colorful lights because they are "more joyful." Who am I to mess with joy?
       Later, I thought maybe we could have really tasteful outdoor decorations. Like evergreen wreaths on each window, big burgundy bows (I had, thankfully, outgrown the pink phase, but was still not ready to embrace red -- so plebeian), and white lights, in understated icicles, perhaps, hanging from the eaves. The guru of Christmas decor, however, again somehow ended up bringing home strings of red, blue, green, and yellow. He was supported in this by the children, who were by then old enough to think that white lights were boring.
       Deep in my soul, I am not a decor person. Thus, the battle for the white lights was hardly a skirmish. Frankly, if someone else was going to hang the lights and help trim the tree, he/they could choose the color scheme. Once it's up, I hardly see it.
      I did notice, however, the lack of Christmas lights in Geneva. The Swiss do not, I think, traditionally use strings of bulbs, white or colorful, and I had a suspicion that the few decorated houses in our Onex neighborhood probably belonged to Americans -- or to the Spanish, who would use any excuse for making things look like a party. (I say that with deepest admiration.) I missed the lights, and looked forward to being back in the land of holiday illumination this year. I was therefore disappointed when it seemed that Baltimore was turning out to be somewhat subdued in its electrical celebration of the season. Our neighborhood has a few enthusiastic homeowners. Two houses down, they even have the very swags of white lights, evergreen, and bows that would have fulfilled by deepest wishes of yore. We did our part, with a display made up of several years' worth of collected decorations -- those that survived the move and the stint in storage, that is. In general, though, Towson is on the subdued -- not to say dark -- end of the spectrum.

The Admiraal contribution to Stevenson Lane's Christmas decor.

       We actually have the perfect location for something really big -- half the city uses our road as a cut-through to Target. I suggested a live nativity, but Johanna and I argued over who would get to be Mary (No, I am not old enough to be Elizabeth!), and we didn't know what we would do with the animals come January. Nonetheless, I do think our house expresses a certain amount of Christmas spirit -- of the perhaps tacky, but undeniably joyful, variety.
       The folks in Hampden, however, really know how to embrace Christmas decorating. This neighborhood, located about five miles south of us, produces a light display that they call Miracle on 34th Street. We drove down to see it, and, though it wasn't even a weekend, found ourselves in the middle of a crowd of gawkers. It was worth a look, for sure. Inflatables, yard ornaments, and lights, lights, lights. They even managed to make white lights look garish. My former, elegance-seeking self might have deplored the marked lack of restraint. Classy, Hampden's 34th Street is not.
       Yet, the spirit of fun and festivity in the neighborhood is unmistakable. It's creative. It's loud and exciting. It's joyful. It's the kind of tacky that America does so well, and that is something I love about this country. And I think Eric is right -- the fun is Christmassy. After all, the Star of Bethlehem was probably tastefully lovely, but the shepherds and donkeys were hardly the height of refinement.

Don't miss the hubcap Christmas tree and the bicycle-wheel snowmen.

The whole street from inside the car, taken when I thought we weren't going to be able to find a parking place so we could get out and take pictures. We actually didn't find a spot to park, but Eric kindly drove around the block a few times so I could take some better photos.

More glitz.

People were lined up to go into this house. We probably should have waited our turn as well to see what the draw was. They had the right motivation, anyway.

No need for a theme.

And a nod to the digital age.

I do love that hubcap tree. It's recycling, art, and kitsch all rolled into one.