Schneider's glasses

The battle of the lights

(Bild: stock.adobe.com - andreas_muhmenthaler)

Christmas is also the time for hobbyists. No expense or effort is spared in the battle for the most impressive Christmas lights. "Krone" columnist Robert Schneider knows a thing or two about it.  

The arms race in the neighborhood is approaching its climax. It has actually been in full swing since the beginning of November, when the fall still had a few warm days in store that reminded me wistfully of summer. Now the battle is over, the houses are illuminated right up to the roofs. The only thing left to do is add the odd battery of lights. Pure cosmetics. For example, a light curtain billowing in all RGB colors, a decorative LED light with five moose for the outside area (the neighbor only has two in the garden), a cascade of "ice rain" lights for the eaves, perhaps a multi-colored flashing acrylic snowman for the back entrance, a snowflake projector (waterproof) for the house wall and a few additional warm white illuminated stars for the windows.

You proceed strategically, think your neighbor has the advantage with his ridiculous lights, perfidiously switch on one battery after the other day after day, lighting effects that nobody could have expected, until the big snowflake projector is suddenly used at dusk on December 24th, where the otherwise mouse-grey house wall glows beguilingly bright in an atmospheric jumble of blue and white snow crystals. Merry Christmas, dear neighbor! You'll be amazed! Christmas is a celebration of joy, yes, but it is also a celebration of schadenfreude. A little fun is a must. A year ago, my dear neighbor was still feeling quite spartan when Putin took away all our electricity, Europe was heading for a terrible power shortage (remember, 19 degrees in the office) and Nehammer didn't know how to get the nation through the winter without severe frostbite. It was a horrible Christmas. As always, I decorated our scrawny beech tree in front of the house, put a measly string of lights in it and that was that.

Not for my neighbor. He talked me into it. Whether I had one at all, given that the electricity was running low, that we were probably facing the harshest winter since the world war, how I actually felt about Selenskyj, ... Incidentally, he always wore two masks on his face during Corona and once showed me up because our little boy's best friend had secretly come to visit. "Are you putting up with this?" my older brother asked as he looked at the brightly lit façade of his neighbor, then at the meager little lights in our beech tree. "You're so right!" I replied. "He'll just look so stupid this year!" We drove to the DIY store.