My father is a pilot and he’s based out of Louisville, Kentucky. Pilots, thankfully, don’t have to live where they’re based so I didn’t grow up there. Even though Louisville is home to the Kentucky Derby, the town is completely classless. I will not apologize for saying that. His favorite store there, Value City, confirms my claim.
With the exception of the first five words, I really wish what I’m about to tell you was a lie. Value City no longer exists, but the atrocities purchased there are alive and well in the spatter of Christmas cheer at my parent’s home.
Last year, my parents didn’t have much time to decorate for the holidays. They had to deal with family, my graduation, and helping me moving out of my apartment only to return home. It aslo wasn’t much help that our decorations had not seen the light of day in a few years; the past three Christmases were spent across the Atlantic, leaving the house void of all things Christmas. Motivation to have sufficient Christmas décor was at an all time low.
With these factors combined, I think my parents forgot how to properly decorate for Christmas, so I offered to do the entire tree myself. There was a bit of grumbling over having to clean up everything in January, so I let it go. Not two hours later, I noticed the living room furniture was moved a bit to make room for everything, or so I thought. My father carried in a heavy looking cardboard box and plopped it down where the coffee table should have been; a six foot tall snow globe was pictured on the front of the box. Great! Surprise of the century: it came from Value City. Even better!
With the exception of the few times it was deflated in a heap, it stayed put with its stupid illuminated scene revolving inside its stupid plastic walls until the end of December, because you know what? Christmas trees are so passé.