Valley Gadfly
December has arrived in the Cherry Creek Valley, bringing twinkling lights, crowded shopping centers, overpriced peppermint lattes, and the annual realization that Christmas is coming whether we are ready or not. The most wonderful time of the year has returned, along with the most expensive, exhausting, and traffic-congested time of the year.
Ah, Christmas in Colorado. Where else can you experience sunshine and 65-degree temperatures on Monday, a blizzard on Tuesday, and patio dining by Thursday? Mother Nature apparently celebrates the holidays by spinning a weather roulette wheel. Meanwhile, local television meteorologists confidently predict everything from a white Christmas to a tropical Christmas, sometimes during the same newscast.
And then there is Cherry Creek North, where holiday shopping has become an extreme sport. Finding a parking space requires the patience of Job, the determination of a Navy SEAL, and the financial resources of a small European nation. By the time you locate a spot, purchase a gift, and enjoy lunch, you may need to refinance your house.
The holiday decorations, however, are magnificent. Thousands of sparkling lights illuminate the neighborhood, creating a winter wonderland that would make Ebenezer Scrooge reach for his smartphone. Unfortunately, Scrooge would probably receive a parking ticket while taking the picture.
The Gadfly has always admired those organized individuals who finish their Christmas shopping before Thanksgiving. These people wrap presents with coordinated ribbons, address Christmas cards in beautiful handwriting, and plan holiday menus before Halloween. They are also the people the rest of us secretly despise.
For ordinary mortals, shopping begins around December 20, when panic replaces inspiration. Dad doesn’t need another sweater. Mom doesn’t want another candle. Teenagers want electronic devices costing more than the Gadfly’s first automobile. And nobody, absolutely nobody, wants another fruitcake.
Speaking of fruitcake, has anyone ever witnessed someone eating an entire one? Fruitcakes appear every December, get passed from household to household, and somehow survive until the following Christmas. Scientists should study them. They may hold the secret to eternal life.
Then there is the neighborhood holiday light competition. Every community has that one homeowner who believes his house should be visible from the International Space Station. His roof glows, his trees sparkle, his reindeer move, and his electric meter spins like a slot machine in Las Vegas. Next door sits a house with one lonely strand of lights hanging crookedly from the garage. Both homeowners believe they have captured the true spirit of Christmas.
Holiday parties present their own challenges. December is the one month when people willingly attend multiple gatherings featuring identical cheese trays, miniature meatballs, and conversations about how quickly the year has passed. Someone inevitably announces that they cannot believe it is already December. Everyone nods, despite hearing the same observation at the previous three parties.
Meanwhile, Denver drivers seem determined to transform every December commute into a holiday endurance contest. A single snowflake can bring traffic to a standstill, while four-wheel-drive enthusiasts apparently believe the laws of physics have been suspended until spring. The Gadfly offers a gentle reminder: four-wheel drive helps you go. It doesn’t necessarily help you stop.
Despite the madness, there is something magical about December in the Cherry Creek Valley. Illuminated streets, Christmas concerts, neighborhood gatherings, and families spending time together remind us why this season remains special. For a few brief weeks, even argumentative neighbors exchange friendly greetings, politicians pretend to like one another, and the rest of us temporarily forget the endless construction projects and rising prices.
So, dear readers, enjoy the lights, embrace the festivities, support your neighborhood merchants, and remember that the perfect Christmas doesn’t require perfect gifts or decorations. Sometimes the best memories come from things that go spectacularly wrong.
The Gadfly wishes everyone a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and joyous holiday season. May your packages arrive on time, your relatives depart before overstaying their welcome, and your credit card bills be considerably smaller than anticipated.
And if you happen to find a parking space in Cherry Creek North during the week before Christmas, consider it a gift from Santa Claus himself.
Just don’t tell anyone where it is.
The Valley Gadfly can be reached at newspaper@glendalecherrycreek.com.
