I had to purchase some brown Kraft Paper and Elmer’s glue, so what better place for a one-stop shop for these than Hobby Lobby; grandiose oasis for crafty ladies- a siren call for females akin to Cabela’s Bass Pro Shops allure for the male segment of the species.
To no surprise, withstanding the sheer volume, I report that Hobby Lobby is in full Christmas mode, with the WalMart/ Target warehouse size space given over to the greatest moneymaker of the enrire year. Entering and seeing the ostentatious splendor on display, I was tempted to take one of the electric scooters and wheel around. pretending I was on a Disneyland ride. There is a grandeur of toilet brush wreaths and trees that would denude Norway completely if they were real evergreens. You want prelit or plain snow dusted ? bubble lit, changing color LED, or pedestrian Silvestri style lights ?. Table top, 4 feet or cathedral height ?. Aisles to negotiate as though in a forest glen. Heady with all the choices, I segue into Ornament Wonderland. Here, there, are more balls than you would find on Fire Island during July 4th high tea. It even strikes me that given the number of Hobby Lobbies in the US (800), it is astounding how even the entire population of China in those plastic factories are able to get all this done in only a year. You just know eventually they will just overrun us and take over the planet. Amongst the hanging orbs, elves, crystal snowflakes and Santas, there are glitzy garlands, holly garlands, poinsettia garlands, Edelweiss garlands, tinsel garlands and even one wayward pumpkins squash garland that seemingly got left behind. Between the low hangers and the bedecked strands, I feel as though I should start jiving in this 80's disco land.
Trying an exit, I find I am in “software,” an entire block of pillows , table runners, placemats, tree skirts, swags, dish cloths and framed petit-point “Bless the House” hangings. How many pillows embroidered “Noel” or “On Dasher,” and even “I saw Daddy kissing Santa Klaus” can one possible casually place in any room?
I’m on my way to the rear of the store to find my glue, but first I must brave candles, room spray odorizers, and diffusing sticks. Gratefully “Pumpkin Spice” has made a stealthy exit but now we are clouded and inundated by “Christmas Tree, “Grandma’s Kitchen”, Holly Berry, cranberry and blue berry, and “Winter Wonderland” (which even in my long time on this earth, I could not begin to tell you what comprises this smell.) Los Angeles in its haziest smog isn't as intimidatingly oppressive as this.
One thing that stood glaringly out in my tour is that “Baby Jesus” has left the building, or is away at boarding school or something. Maybe all those Austrian wood carvers went on to college and become Investment bankers now. I dunno. But there is nary a creche to be found. Nor a plastic camel to complete the manger scene. Blessed Mary has risen and gone to Miami for a respite from all the hoopla. The only Angels I saw are couture dressed in ermine and velvet as tree toppers with celestially lit halos (that can be remotely controlled to change colors upon demand or automatically)
It is sad to see that Christmas has left Christmas. The pageant is all about money now. That simple, meaningful religious tradition has become a spectacle of spending. You never had to be Christian to enjoy the spirit of the Holiday, but now a grandiose gluttony of symbols that have no real meaning have obfuscated any relevance. I remember the beauty of candle light at midnight Christmas eve service in church, congregation raised in vocal celebration of the birth of Jesus. Or, bundled up in the car driving around the neighborhood looking as much as at starry winter skies as the lit trees in front windows . I fondly recall the old skate shack with a string of Noma lights someone put up, and hot chocolate brought by a generous family. Bundling up and going out to sing carols and being invited in often to enjoy a Christmas cookie and some egg nog.
Sadly, I head into the mundane “crafts” section . No bustle of shoppers back here. The Kraft paper is relegated to a corner under the plethora of bins of gaudy gift wrap. I grab a plain brown roll. On sale. Legs tired and distraught in my realizations, I ask a harried employee where the glue is located. She directs me to an entire aisle. Even “Elmer’s” has become an industry. School glue, “repositioning paste,” glue stick, and even a adhesive that goes on purple and turns clear, I guess so you know where your glue is going? More choices I don't need.
I'm on overload. It isn’t just Christmas . It’s everything. I remember when there was the “General Store,” a place that had a little of everything. My childhood 50's version was called “The five and dime.” Then the trend went to specialty stores- a toy store, a drug store, a fabric store. Everything was "boutique." And then we came back- only with a vengeance. The general store returned- only now it’s a “mega store,” a “super store.” All are gigantic sprawling edifices that these tired old legs have a hard time finding something in , and, no longer anyone around to ask where it might reside.
Times have changed . To me, I don’t think for the good. Getting my glue and Kraft paper came at with hefty price- a jolt of reality about consumption hitting smack into old traditions.
I feel empty.- I have completely lost my thoughts on Thanksgiving. It's only just early November for Christ's sake.
"For Christ's sake," Exactly.
-Jerry Wendt
