When summer is hot they will sit out front of the house for long lazy hours in aluminum folding chairs, right into the wee late night hours. I have never noticed an air conditioner and just assume that if they never had one in Greece where it really gets hot, then why should they have one here then. Their only glancing nod to luxury, as far as I can tell, is a big comfortable Chrysler that always gets tucked away in the garage at night. Just to be absolutely safe.
The neighborhood has no doubt changed a whole lot since they first moved here. At one time the street probably had lots of other Greek families, but now just a few grudging holdouts further up the block. The street now is a spicy blend of humanity. Next door to them is a family from Bangladesh, across a family from Guyana, and the diverse ingredients of the neighborhood soup just goes on and on. The little world that is 160 st has changed a lot even in the time that I have been there. Because they are such rock solid people I really no longer take much notice of them. In the winter they scoot inside quickly like everybody else on chilly days.
Today I stopped to take note and a picture of their Christmas display. For all I know they have plugged in the same decorations since 1973, or maybe they put them up for the first time this year. Under oath I couldn't really say. I have never really noticed much of what they did over except when they sit in those aluminum folding chairs. As for their little display, I kind of like its simplicity actually. It is just a small pool of sparkle on this the longest darkest night of the year. Gratefully it is really mild and so the misery of darkness doesn't feel so bad.
Because it was so mild I thought I would go out and explore other displays of Christmas lights. I meandered over into Jamaica Estates where I heard about this place that was by rumored to be off the charts. I really wasn't quite sure where it was, so my jogging route followed some unexpected twisting and turning down other wise dark streets. Then, almost as though being startled by a search light, I caught a glimpse of the tree, saturated with brilliant lights against the dark. Blazing against a pitch black moonless sky and just seeming to be endlessly pouring unearthly brightness into the void. It was late afternoon and yet night was fully upon us. It was shocking just how much stuff, lights, Santas, and every conceivable holiday image was on display around this gigantic corner house. Most of the decorations were bright stationary colorful tableaus, but lots of characters were dancing and moving, particularly the multiple Santas. It all looked like some transplanted Disney theme park, with just the right complimentary music and ho ho hos emanating from carefully planted speakers. Cars were pushing onto the street already and kids, old ladies, and folks of every description were spilling out onto the narrow street with cameras already fired up and slack jawed wonder plastered across their faces. They couldn't believe it and neither could I. For a few minutes I took some pictures and just stared like everyone else. I assume that in a few hours more the street would be plugged solid with others also wanting to get their Christmas spirit charged up, or perhaps get ideas of how they could improve their own displays. It is hard to imagine anybody topping this one for pure extravagance and yet it somehow all worked together. It was certainly not created by some amateur hobbyist. It was all clearly put together by someone who had an ample imagination, budget, and tremendous storage space. The one touch that inspired me most, was the simplest part of the display. A sign high above the house that said, "Peace on Earth," hard to argue with that.
It is a couple of miles away and as I ran back I thought about all those lights and the solstice with its darkness. I am pretty sure that early pagan people probably figured out pretty early on that when the long dark winter set in they really wanted to encourage the sun to come back and warm the place back up again. Maybe if you tried to throw light into the darkness you could invite the sun to return, like priming a reluctant pump. No matter what we do however nature and the calender cycle is simply going to do its own thing and come around in its own good time.
When I got home I took another look at the Greek house and stopped to enjoy the lights again. Just a minute, that was enough. I was glad that the Greeks were my neighbors and not the folks with the xmas extravaganza for a house. If you lived even a block from that place life must be a nightmare until they turn the whole thing off in January. There can't be any peace for the rest of the neighbors for endless traffic jammed weeks. If you lived across the street the light is so bright it could almost beam laser like through the walls or curtains.
I might go by again some time but somehow I don't think so. The pictures I took are more than enough. If I am short of any Christmas cheer I will step out of my very dark house and gaze across the street, into the little pool of brightness, that the Greeks are offering. I just have to remember to look over before 10pm, after that their house disappears once again into darkness.
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