‘K, so I have plan for all the baby Jesusi (words that end in “S” so hard to pluralize) I’m planning to purloin from all the neighborhood nativity scenes: I’m going to dress them them in cloth diapers and little yarmulkes and arrange them all around this inflatable menorah* in my driveway. When my outraged neighbors come with their pitchforks and torches, I’ll tell them it’s an experimental performance art piece to foster community and understanding between the different faiths.
Wha’, you don’t think the deep South is ready for it? Maybe I should wait until my PMS passes and then string a nice line of environmentally-correct LED blue lights around the porch and call it a (holi)day.
Speaking of which, where do y’all fall on the subject holiday lights? Kosher or not?
When I was growing up, twinkling lights were as verboten at as our house as a Chanukah bush, or as my mother liked to say: SFG*. So it constitutes a fairly major rebellion that I’ve done the blue light thang since college; I just think they’re pretty and my children really love them. I don’t go batsh*t and drape things from the roof or anything, just a tasteful doorway/window display that adds a cozy glow to these deep, dark days of December. When the menorah’s lit in the window framed by blue, our home shines as bright as any meshugenneh’s with their flashing seizure-inducing displays.
I’m not saying I’m trying compete with the Christian tradition; it’s just nice to look down one’s block on a chilly winter night and not see a black hole where one’s house sits. Chanukah is the Festival of Lights, after all.
* “Strictly For the Goyim”
**I borrowed the image from Orienyenta, a Spanish-speaking, Asian Jewish single mom living in Miami. I know there’s at least one single Jewish doctor out there who might be interested in a tall, independent woman who can cook latkes and egg rolls…