Olympic Manor
It was a dark and chilly night. Despite a biting Seattle drizzle, yet bundled in layers to face it, we exited the car and took to the suburban streets. We weren’t the only ones, the neighborhood breathing slowly. A young couple here, a synchronized family there, a stray dog over yonder - all of us tourists came for the lights.
One-upmanship at it’s finest, each house was more impressive than the last. In thinking of holiday decorations, House A displayed the answer to the question: what if I had more time. House B answered: what if I had more time and more money. House C answered: what If I bought my house 50 years ago when this wasn’t a tradition and now I’m stuck between ambitiously obnoxious neighbors and pervert sight-seers. Well, you know what - no! This is America. No amount of peer pressure is going to make me strain my back in exchange for a higher electricity bill. Let me be in peace, get off my lawn, and don’t expect any lights!
For the majority of houses that actually put up lights, some included props as well. My favorite displays revolved around Christmas movies. Picture the cardboard cutouts of a Chase, Ferrell, or Carrey. If you knew I was referencing the movies - Christmas Vacation, Elf, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas - props to you. (Save up three props and convert that into one kutos. Five kutos into one gold star. Two gold stars into one blue ribbon. And if you can acquire nine blue ribbons, I’ll give you a Pat on the back*)
*Pat on the back is only good on purchases of $10 or more when paying with credit card. Invalid in states starting with a vowel. Expires on the next new moon, 2021.
The whole experience was fun and I’d recommend going for anyone living in Seattle. Walking around in the cold, looking at houses really forces you to be mindful and enjoy just that moment. I’d be cliche if I said some of the best experiences in life are free - so I won’t.
I’ll conclude with the following dumb thought: While walking past one of the houses, I noticed a girl inside, filming me on the outside of her home. My initial thought was, ironically, that’s inappropriate - that’s an invasion of my privacy.
