Sparks Ignites

  I experienced a holiday first this year. I spent the night in lockup at the county jail. It wasn’t so traumatic. It only added extra octane to my celebrations. I got to drink eggnog from a tin cup and harmonize “Jingle Bells” with a pickpocket Santa The jolly criminal was incarcerated because he Fleeced Navidad’ed shoppers in the mall and pulled cash from Victoria’s Secret drawers. Cellblock Santa was a merry old soul who smelled like peppermint with a base note of Hickory Farms Summer Sausage. I guess you’re wondering what happened. It’s a festive story filled with holiday splendor and action-film stunts. It happened because I’m a Christmas connoisseur– a purist when it comes to outdoor decorations. I grew up when the lights du jour were C9 bulbs. The big type that screwed into heavy cords. They got scorching hot when lit. So, you hung them on your house and shrubbery and then flipped on the power to see what you’d created. You waited for the smell of ozone to waft in the air and yo