...but something I laid peepers on today really threw me for a loop.
PARENTHETICAL YOU-CAN'T-HAVE-EVERYTHING NOTE: Nope, didn't get a photo. There was no place to stop to get one. If I can con someone into driving me past the scene tomorrow, I will, and will of course put up any shots I get.
I happened to be driving past the local marble orchard. I don't usually spare it a second glance. But I had to stare this time.
PARENTHETICAL IT'S-DIFFERENT-IN-CALIFORNIA NOTE: This is not the traditional kind of dirt-nappery those of you who live in more civilized places would expect. Rather than monuments and other signs of individuality, every resident gets a simple, identical, flat, the-lawn-mower-passes-right-over-it plaque. It's not even a "cemetery;" rather, it's a memorial park. If I hadn't already willed my body to the local dog-food cannery, I would definitely not want to be in one of these places, where lawn sprinklers stand out as much as the Dear Departeds do....
Okay, so this place is on a long hill, and you can see quite a bit of it from the street. And what I saw was: Christmas decorations.
That's right. Little forests of candy canes surrounding some of the markers, tiny trees with Christmas ornaments on 'em, even -- I think -- a few Christmas stockings.
I dig weirdness, but that's a little too bizarre even for me, Jim.
I'm pretty certain that place is one Santa will not have on his itinerary on the 25th. And I doubt that anyone there is eagerly awaiting presents.
Flowers on appropriate days, yes. That's cool. I've even left a few posies at appropriate grave-sites myself in the past. Maybe, in places where the local beliefs tend that way, an offering or two to speed the Loved One to the Hereafter. Maybe -- and I know nothing about this -- some kind of Voodoo trinket to take the heat off the soul making its Final Journey.
But Christmas decorations? Presents? Stockings? Nuh-uh.
That really wigs me out.
Hubert Eaton, the man who created Forest Lawn, would be freaked out by it, too....
14 hours ago