What the Flock

Ok. I know the old saying is that people that live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. And I don’t live in a glass house (I do have a shit-ton of windows though), so I feel like I am allowed to throw whatever I want. Stones. Shade. Bottlecaps. The works. As I watched two little girls on Ellen dancing with Britney Spears, the commercial break featured a commercial about trees that were pre-lit and flocked.

ImageWhat the flock are they talking about.

Flocking is where people take amazingly decorated trees and spray something one can only assume causes cancer all over them so that they look fake, ugly, and covered in papier mâché (I know, I’m so fancy, huh). They look crusty, and gross, and children under the age of eight are probably at risk of eating the white crud, causing digestive issues, and again, the cancer. I know that I am known for tackiness, especially when it comes to holiday decorations.

ImageThis will be me some day. Some day.

I get wanting to celebrate the holidays. I like being festive. But when it looks like a Lowe’s paint can full of separated drywall paint sharted all over your Christmas tree, I can’t support that. You want to have a giant tree with fiber optic lights? Sure. Pre-lit? Not a problem. Obnoxious color schemes? I’ll back that up. But flocking is ugly. There, I said it. I think it looks terrible. It detracts from what would otherwise be a lovely tree.

ImageIt’s a little full. Big tree. A lot of sap.

BTW, totally tangentially related, my father lives for watching Christmas Vacation every year, solely for the scene where Randy Quaid is emptying his raw sewage into the local sewer system in his underwear, terrifying the Griswold’s neighbors and smoking a cigar. He’ll be spaced out, puttering around the house or getting food, until either he notices or we tell him that the scene is coming up, wherein he would leave a firefight to sit on the couch and watch the scene.

ImageWords. There are no words for this.

So please, everyone. Don’t flock. It’s not cute. Stay classy (and festive) Salt Lake.

One thought on “What the Flock

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