People never talk about the EverLights. Like kids to cake, they gravitate to everything that shines. You think you’ve made something magical, but by dawn, all you have are feathers and pecked bulbs. In December, I saw a squirrel utilize my neighbor’s icicle lights as a tightrope. Three days later, a part went out in protest. Have you ever tried to explain that on warranty papers?
Extension cords: they seem to grow like bunnies. You make arrangements for one first. By the end of the afternoon, you’re staring at a knot that looks more at home on a sailboat than on a boat. No one will say how easy it is to overload a breaker. The living room goes dark. Kids shout. Someone is blaming the oven. Was it the twinkle lights or the turkey? Good luck with it.
Let’s also talk about being creative. Pinterest makes it look easy with its lovely cascades and graceful patterns. In actuality, every third bulb is broken, and your “starburst” looks like something out of a sci-fi movie. Weather messes with the best-laid plans. The rain comes from the side. Everything gets mixed up by the wind. A neighbor worked for hours to attain perfect symmetry, but then a snowstorm dumped a foot of snow on top of it. The next morning, half of the lights were gone behind a drift.
When the lights are eventually connected in, the installation isn’t really over. There is a maintenance phase, like taking care of a baby. At three in the morning, the wind will pull things apart. Ice will break decorations. You’ll go outside in your jammies with zip ties and a flashlight, hoping the neighbors don’t see you.
It’s important to know the wattage, but who really does the math? Most people play Russian roulette with their electronics, plugging them in and crossing their fingers that nothing goes wrong. There’s always that one thread that wants to hurt you. It works perfectly when you hang it over your hand, but it stops working as soon as you get off the ladder.
Some people enjoy doing it themselves. Some people give in and hire pros. No one talks about the feeling of victory, no matter what side you’re on. Standing in the street, with a cold nose and numb fingers, staring at your work and feeling like Clark Griswold, with triumph and anguish knotted up more than the light strings.
If you’ve ever cursed at a bunch of wires that were all knotted up, you’re not alone. Putting up holiday lights is like an extreme sport. It will get your heart racing, boost your imagination, and give you stories to tell for years to come.