This year, it seems the Christmas holidays are being celebrated in grand fashion.
Homes that never put up decorations have their yards lit up from the curb to the front door.
Stores and malls have always trotted out beautiful Christmas displays, but they’ve stepped up their game. Tinsel, garland and ribbons are on every available wall and corridor.
Entire neighborhoods have gotten into the act. You’ll seldom find a subdivision entrance that doesn’t have a giant wreath or oversized garland hanging from the sign.
The radio has long played Christmas songs 24 hours a day in December. This year, one station started in the middle of November, and I’ve tuned in every day.
While I love those Christmas songs, there are some that make no sense to Southerners or those under the age of 50.
“Sleigh bells ring…” is an odd one for us. I wasn’t exactly sure what a sleigh was until I saw one in a child’s Christmas book.
“Dashing through the snow” is a mystery for most Southerners. A ride through the hay fields on a John Deere tractor is much more familiar.
“Winter Wonderland” means something entirely different to Southerners than it does to those who live in the North.
Their winter wonderland is probably snow-covered streets, children walking in boots and coats, throwing snowballs at each other along the way.
Our winter wonderland is walking around in our flip flops and shorts because our wonderland is 72 degrees.
We’re not building snowmen in the meadow and calling him Farmer John. If you are in a meadow, there’s usually cows. There’s one smelly thing you could use to build a snowman. I won’t go into detail.
We do hear silver bells ringing, but it’s the people in Santa hats outside stores collecting for the Salvation Army. The only other bells we hear are the chimes on our phones letting us know we have a text message.
“Deck the Halls” has some of the most obscure lyrics of all the holiday tunes. I haven’t a clue what “troll the ancient Yuletide carol means,” and the Yuletide treasure isn’t winning $10 on a scratch-off lottery ticket.
Nat King Cole sings one of the best holiday songs of all time, but none of us have ever seen or will see “chestnuts roasting on an open fire.”
That’s because a non-native fungus wiped out almost all of the American chestnut trees by 1950.
“Do You Hear What I Hear” means something different in the city these days. The sounds I hear are people’s car alarms binging so people can find where they parked.
I’m hearing lawn mowers and leaf blowers because the grass grows year round in the South. Our winter days often top out at 80 degrees and our lawns keep growing because the grass thinks it’s already spring.
Bing Crosby might be dreaming of a “White Christmas” but I’m dreaming of a green Christmas because snow in the South is a nightmare.
We don’t know how to drive in the snow, and our cars aren’t equipped with snow tires. We go into a panicked hibernation when we think there’s a possibility of frost and freezing.
I will agree with one song – “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” That is, of course, if you overlook the massive traffic jams around shopping areas, the frustration associated with finding the right gift for everybody on your list and the high price of almost everything.
Despite the headaches, long lines in the stores and not understanding the lyrics to Christmas songs, this is still a joyous season.
I hope you enjoy your Christmas and, in the words of Tiny Tim, “God bless us, every one.”
This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.