There’s been a lot of talk of late about the “Zombie Apocalypse.”  For those of us (including me) who weren’t aware of this threat I did some research and learned that this event occurs when “a widespread (usually global) rise of zombies hostile to human life engages in a general assault on civilization.”* Personally, I think this attack is already underway—and has been for some time.  Witness “reality TV” (“Big Brother, “Maury Povich,” “Honey Boo Boo,” “Bridezillas,” “Keeping Up with the Kardashians,” etc., ad nauseum, ad infinitum), wherein swarms of  social cretins rise up to assail the sensibilities of anyone willingly watching this stuff.   Warning:  Viewers of these programs risk becoming zombies themselves, if they aren’t already.bigstock-MOSCOW--MAY---Unidentified--32519849

Zombie Apocalypse?  Note the headphones–A lot of zombies are already here.  (

Anyway, to my knowledge no specific date has been established for this calamitous event, but I’m seeing signs of it already.  I expect you’ve seen them, too; you just didn’t realize it.  I’m speaking of the proliferation of inflatable Christmas displays popping up (literally) in neighborhoods all across the country:  Santa Claus, Mrs. Claus, elves, reindeer, snowmen, sleighs, polar bears—you name it:  Just about anything remotely related to Christmas is now full of hot air and glowing in the dark on front lawns up and down the block.

I’ll go out on a limb here and guess that the people displaying these motorized balloons have children.  I know two of my neighbors do.  Across the street are a Santa and one reindeer who probably delight the little girl living in the house there.  As blow-up toys they’re innocuous enough but in the morning when I open my blinds I see what appear to be two flat and wrinkled red, white, and tan garbage bags.  They look as though they’ve been shot!   Next door, my neighbor has a smaller Santa who stands by as another reindeer rocks to and fro on a green platform.  This particular display apparently annoys or scares my dog.  Anytime we go outdoors when “Rocking Rudolph” is up and, er, running, the mutt barks his disapproval—from a distance, of course.

I don’t know whose bright idea it was to redesign air bags as Christmas decorations but I wish he had left them in cars where they belong.  The least he could have done was figure out a way to get these things to deflate into their air tubes, or at least self-fold into neat little packets.  As it is, by morning all these animated garbage bags look like so much Macy’s parade rejects.

Bluntly stated, these Yuletide yard ornaments strike me as rather tacky.  It’s bad enough that they are mostly oversized, that they glow and whirr, but at the rate they’re multiplying my neighborhood is starting to resemble Toontown.

I think my dog may feel the same way.  The other day I was carrying a bag of trash to the garbage can and he ran toward the front yard, ignoring my calls to come back.  (Nothing unusual about that.)  I returned to the house and went to the front door.  Looking around, I spied the mutt next door, raising his leg on the collapsed reindeer, showering him with his disdain.  Quickly bringing him back inside, I considered taking a pan of water and rinsing down the defiled deer.  It occurred to me, however, that I might get caught and that would require some rather creative fast talk.  I was considering how to account for my behavior when—Lo!—the heavens opened up and blessed the deer with enough of a shower to dispose of the evidence.

Which brings me back to the Zombie Apocalypse.  So far, all these overblown caricatures have been moored to the ground, collapsing by the time the sun comes up.  That’s cause for relief as far as it goes.  But each night they rise up again.  What if all these corpulent cartoons put their airheads together one night and decide to pull up stakes and, like zombies, go on a rampage?  Remember the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from the 1984 film, “Ghostbusters”?  Multiply that bloated, sailor-suited bonbon by a few hundred and we could have a major panic on our hands.  And the scary thing is that all these over-stuffed yard bags wear the same inane grin on their faces as Mr. Stay Puft.  I don’t know about you, but that really creeps me out.  It’s as though they share some macabre secret and, believe me, that can’t be good. Imagine them lumbering inexorably down your street, silent and grinning, in search of some hapless holiday revelers to terrorize and trample.  Why, an army like that could literally bump the rest of us off the map.  OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Yipes! Here they come–Christmas Zombies!  ( 

So, could this be the Zombie Apocalypse?  Should we fear our Christmas celebrations turning into a kind of marshmallow mayhem?  And, as if this weren’t enough this whole Zombie Apocalypse scenario just happens to coincide with the holidays and the Mayan calendar doomsday scare.  Wow!  The perfect storm!

Personally, when it comes to Christmas I prefer the subtle, low-key approach.  So I’m going to forgo those cheesy, inflatable holiday balloons (not a difficult decision); I’m sticking with the traditional wreath on the door and the garland strung with tiny white lights framing it.  If you think about it, it’s kind of like the Israelites who, just before the Exodus, painted lamb’s blood around their doors so the angel of death would pass by and spare their first born. Only in this case I’m hoping to ward off those Christmas Zombies.  It’s worth a try.  You can’t be too careful.


© 2012, The Wit’s End Scribbler



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