Tacky Lights and Christmas Cheer

The other day while listening to NPR on the way into work, a story came on about the "Tacky Light Tour" in Richmond. Some genius entrepreneur thought to get some busses together, charge a fee and narrate a trip through some of Richmond's most over-decorated homes. Yippee! Each year, homeowners on the tour pander to the delight of the voyeurs - racing to out-do each other among lights, inflatable holiday figures, snow globes and other absurdities.

Of course, being NPR, following the inital "these are the facts" portion, came the obligatory talking heads who analyzed whether or not the "Tacky Light Tour" is art or not. Deep thoughts, no?

I thought about it again as I drove home that evening. My evening commute in December is hellish. It's dark, often wet, and involves heading toward Tyson's Corner to wend my way home. Tyson's is the worst case of suburban sprawl outside Orange County, CA. It's horrendous. Add in a little rain and Christmas and you might as well bed down in the office. (Come to think about it - I did get a blanket as a gift from one of our caterers...).

As usual, I drove along the windy, dark road that snakes around Tyson's, trying desparately to miss the holiday shoppers who insist on shopping at the same time the rest of us poor shmucks simply want to get home. With the morning's "Tacky Light Tour" story still floating around in my head, I began to notice lights strung on countless fences, eaves, windows and bushes. I had forgone my usual dose of NPR's Marketplace (On a random note, Kai Ryssdal, the host, is the only person that has actually ever made me interested in economics) and put in a mixed Christmas CD.

The road is without street lights so the holiday lights twinkled without the interruption of civilization. With the strains of MoTab singing "Joy to the World" in the background, I relaxed. I was no longer interesting in longing to break land speed records to get home. For a few minutes (until I hit the stop sign, and civilization, on Hunter Mill Road) I was ensconsed in Christmas magic - the kind that fills every moment when you are a child. I felt chills. My commute felt like a secret glimpse into a world of perfect contentment.

To all the people on the back roads in Fairfax County who strung lights this year - God bless you. Thank you for making my evening. Thank you for giving me a few minutes to stop and reflect on the joy and peace of this holiday season.

I'll cast my vote with the talking head who declared the light tour was art. Art is something that moves someone. There, in the blackness of a rainy suburban night, I was moved.

Merry Christmas.