Fall haseth arrived, and as with every year it comes with a cornucopia (or “horn of plenty” which I find a much too sensual moniker) of fresh, vibrant and apparently controversial ideas. For example, my wife says the neighbor is going to be upset by the gigantic inflatable turkey dinner I’m putting in our front yard once Halloween is over. There’s this unfortunate gap between Halloween decorations and Christmas, er, Holiday decorations in my neighborhood. Housewives go balls-out for Halloween with the lights and the inflatables and the skeletons and even the animatronics. Then, tragically, it’s all disassembled and re-stored in the dreariest of months when we need it most: November. Then we’re left with super ugly stoops filled with whiskey-swigging grandparents hollering at kids and threatening the mailman. Er, mailperson.
EARLY ADOPTERS
EARLY ADOPTERS
EARLY ADOPTERS
Fall haseth arrived, and as with every year it comes with a cornucopia (or “horn of plenty” which I find a much too sensual moniker) of fresh, vibrant and apparently controversial ideas. For example, my wife says the neighbor is going to be upset by the gigantic inflatable turkey dinner I’m putting in our front yard once Halloween is over. There’s this unfortunate gap between Halloween decorations and Christmas, er, Holiday decorations in my neighborhood. Housewives go balls-out for Halloween with the lights and the inflatables and the skeletons and even the animatronics. Then, tragically, it’s all disassembled and re-stored in the dreariest of months when we need it most: November. Then we’re left with super ugly stoops filled with whiskey-swigging grandparents hollering at kids and threatening the mailman. Er, mailperson.