Deflating the Holidays

'Tis the season for tinsel and lights. From Bay St. Louis, Mississippi to Los Angeles, California, from New Orleans, Louisiana to Park City, Utah, a festive vibe is all around us. And I love it. I’m for it. But in recent years, there’s been a newcomer on the fabulous festive holiday décor scene. 

Enter: The Inflatables. We’ve all seen the blow-up Easter bunnies and wind-filled witches. I’m not sure who started it, but I do know it’s not going away any time soon. America has embraced the hell out of these campy representations of the holidays.

And BTW, it’s not just in the U.S. While I can’t speak to the scene in Europe or Asia, I did witness inflatable Halloween creatures along with blow-up Day of The Dead figures in multiple towns throughout Mexico. 

I’m guessing there are two reasons for the popularity of all this inflatable folderal. 

1) Ease of assembly. As in, zero assembly. All you need is an electrical outlet and an extension cord. Plug it in. Turn it on. It inflates. Done. Well, you do need to stake the thing to the ground and tether it. Otherwise, it’s going to take off like a runaway Macy’s parade balloon when the next violent Nor’easter whips through town. (Thanks and bah humbug, climate change!)

2) Ease of storage. Inflatable things pack down small. Not like the big boxes required to handle your tangled massive mess of miniature lights. (Assonant alliteration!) Or the paper wrapping and packing peanuts required for fragile glass ornaments. I know people who literally have a storage unit for the Halloween set-up. (I’ll save my money for first-class passage on a plane, thank you very much.)

Here's what I believe to be the best thing about inflatable holiday decorations. I am in absolute love with these things when they’re partially deflated, laying limp in someone’s yard. A neighbor with a reindeer down on its knees? Yes, please! Someone whose giant nutcrackers are leaning over, looking like they had too much ‘nog at the office party? Bring it! All those decorations begin looking like they got invited to a rave last night and went way too big.

And because this is the season of giving, I’ve compiled for you a photo essay of a few “deflatables” that featured in my foray across the country this week. There are also captions to go with the drunken holiday party theme. But feel free to come up with your own captions and share them. 

So, from me to you:

"Hold my hair?" F#ck that. You hold mine!"

"Don’t look at me. I’m hideous."

"Come on, Rudolph. Hold still!"

"If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you prick us, do we not deflate?"

"Please, God. Don’t tell Missus Claus. She’ll be all, 'Every year, Kris. Every year.' After a long night’s work, can’t a guy have something besides milk with his cookies?"

"Next year we’re doing this sh*t at Blitzen's."

"S'okay. I didn’t deflate. I’m jus' a li'l tipsy."

Quick, hold my eggnog.

"No, seriously. You guys, I mean it. You are the best." "No, you." "Wait, Santa. You have toilet paper on your boot."

"I don’t even know why I came."

"Y'all go 'head. I’ll just rest here with my balls. I love my balls. Oh, balls. You’re the best."

Happy holidays, my friends. Try not to get deflated this year. At least, not on someone else's lawn.

Cheers,
Honey