Growing up as a Jehovah’s Witness meant I didn’t celebrate holidays so I seldom had to deal with ornaments. I’d see them in people’s houses, through their windows, or while I stood at the door and my dad tried to convince someone that their religion was wrong. I remember one Christmas, the house we knocked at was the home of one of the kids in my class. He stood behind his grandmother in his underwear and some candy cane socks and he was kinda dancing around and he knew I could see him. It was kinda strange. He never mentioned it to me.
The only place I was exposed to ornaments was on the hoods of cars. When I’d go to the junkyard with my uncle, I’d yank on them and watch them twang or break. That’s kind of it for ornaments. They seem like a dangerous sort of thing. If you’re doing 90 on the highway and that thing decides to go, man, I don’t know what it would do to the windshields of older cars.
I don’t know what to think of hood ornaments or Christmas trees. I don’t have time to worry about that shit. Even now, for Halloween, my kid and girlfriend are trying to put out all these Halloween decorations that keep getting knocked over by the wind, or the tape dries up and the thing falls off the door and I’m like who gives a shit why are you chasing this nonsense? I mean, go buy candy. But fuck ornaments.