Kitsch-en Kounter: O Krisp-mas Tree, O Krisp-mas Tree

Am I on Pinterest?  Yes.  Am I positive that I understand the intended purpose of Pinterest?  Not so much.  At face value, I think it is an ingenious way to electronically organize and store useful bits of information that would otherwise clog my years-old, unbacked-up hard drive and/or perpetuate that archaic process of tearing pages out of magazines.  In action, I see that it is just another way of wasting time online while simultaneously making me feel equal parts self-important and hopelessly inadequate.  Inadequate not simply because it is hard to imagine living up to the professional-quality photos of clever crafters lit beautifully by perfectly-diffused afternoon sunlight, rather because I am pinning neither as often nor as well as I should.  Seriously, you don't want to be inside my head when I launch into a neurotic inner-monologue about how I don't have enough pins, how the pins I do have aren't cool enough, and how I can't re-pin other people's pins because then I would just look like a dirty copycat.  It is entirely possible that I have problems much greater than Pinterest.

My biggest issue with Pinterest is that it proves the saying, "There is nothing new under the sun."  When struck with the "best idea in the whole wide world," I have been known to check Pinterest to make sure that mine is a wholly original one.  Inevitably, I learn that the pancake layer-cake has been done far earlier and far better than I could ever do.  After so many Pinterest-induced disappointments, I abandoned this practice - much like I had abandoned so many of my "original" ideas.  Just because somebody somewhere else in the world had come up with the same brilliant idea didn't mean that I hadn't experienced my own brush with brilliance, right?  Two bolts of lightning can strike distant points on a map without diminishing the electrifying brilliance of each other, am I right?

Brilliance often begins with Rice Krispies (or puffed rice, or "Crispy Rice" cereal
product, or whatever generic label suits your fancy).  It just so happens that the
real deal was on sale and less expensive than the store brand - Christmas miracle!  

It is always a challenge at holiday time to come up with something to take to the never-ending series of potlucks.  On a side note: the occasional potluck can be a real kick but what ever happened to throwing a party and just allowing your guests to be guests?  Call me old-fashioned, but sometimes I want to just show up at a party without having to bring the entire party with me (hostess gift, hors d'oeuvres, white elephant gift, ornament for the ornament exchange, two-dozen cookies, and ugly Christmas sweater).  In many ways, I am such a control freak that the thought of someone bringing something unexpected to a party I had so carefully planned would be enough to send me into a tailspin.  Like I said, my issues extend far beyond Pinterest and potlucks!

Charged with bringing "something to share" to a holiday party this year, I knew I needed a dish that would be easy, that would travel well, and that would bring a spark of seasonal drama to the heavy-laden buffet table.  I needed to make something that would snap, crackle, and - dare I say it - pop!  With Rice Krispies at the ready and a pantry full of staples like mini-marshmallows and green food coloring, I started farming my very own Rice Krisp-mas Tree!

Nestled on a bed of newly-driven coconut snow, the Rice Krisp-mas Tree
 is adorned with cinnamon candies and dusted with powdered sugar.  Designed
to be a pull-apart finger food, the tree felt like it was missing something... 

I almost forgot the topper, a Krisp-mas star!

Although, the real star of this show is probably the chenille-stem,
spun head snowman and his cheery, cherry-red top hat!

Just like a real one, even the most perfect tree on the lot needs a bit of trimming after it survives the ride home on the roof of the car.  After trimming the excess away from the graduated layers, notching out the branches, and several rounds of sampling , there were still more than a few scraps.

Ignoring the admonition to not play with my food, some of the scraps
turned into the perfect pretzel-shaped Krisp-mas mask for Santa!

Even if there are already 1,000 similar examples, there will be room for one more Rice Krisp-mas Tree on Pinterest by the time this post is published!  Hopefully it will have everyone singing, "O Krisp-mas Tree."

"O Christmas Tree (O Tannenbaum)" - Vince Guaraldi Trio

Be sure to check out Mr. Tiny's Pinterest page for other Kitsch-en Kounter ideas and to feel good about how superior your pinning is!  What are you taking to your holiday potlucks this year?


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

The Snoopy House or "Christmastime ISN'T Here"

You know how some places, no matter how public they are, seem so special that you get the feeling they belong just to you?   Places that despite teeming crowds seemed like the best kind of secret?  As a 7-year-old walking around Disneyland,  I remember thinking that everything in the park was constructed for my amusement alone.  For that brief day, everything Walt Disney dreamt was made a reality for my personal enjoyment.  It occurred to me that the thousands of other people in the park were strategically placed just to add color, character, and ambient noise to my visit.  In fact, I felt very benevolent allowing them to share in my experience - as long as they didn't cut the line.

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For as "perfect" as Disneyland was, as a child, it didn't take as much from other places to make me experience the same feeling of ownership.  There was a house, extremely simple by Disney standards - comparable only as a humble apple to Disney's dazzling orange - that for every year of my existence came into a life of its own at the holidays.  I can remember our family trips driving through several different neighborhoods exploring the displays of fervently-glowing Christmas lights.  My dad would slowly make his way up hill and over dale searching for the best houses as our breath steamed up the windows of our mini van.  I don't know exactly how old I was when I first caught a glimpse of the "Snoopy House."  I do remember, however, that to date, it was one of the best days of my life.

The Snoopy House

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The Snoopy House
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Driving by the Snoopy House on any day outside of the holiday season, one would be hard pressed to find something even slightly-remarkable about the facade.  As a teenager, I would try and track down the house in the Fall just so I could tell friends about the magic that was right around the corner.  (Remember, I have already mentioned that I am a huge square).  A more clever person would have memorized the address or at very least the cross streets but I never thought that far ahead.  As a matter of fact, I quite enjoyed the thrill of the hunt.  I should mention, just so you are aware that I am not a total goon, that the rather-nondescript house resided on a very long stretch of road surrounded by many charming but equally-nondescript dwellings.  Only after Thanksgiving did the little house transform into something miraculous; from that time through the beginning of the following year the house was unmistakable and unmistakably my Christmas spot.

Lucy & Chrlie Brown really skate!

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The Peanuts Gang Band
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I remember pulling up to the house for the first time.  I can still feel the thrill and frustration of my  maneuvering through the crowd.  I could catch little glimpses over the heads of smaller kids and through the legs of adults as I pushed my way to the front.  It was an eternity waiting for other families to disperse so I could take in the full spectacle.  The entire yard (a large, corner lot with an L-shaped yard) was filled with a moving, interactive diorama of The Peanuts Gang at Christmas time.  A children's choir sang, a rock band played, Lucy was ice skating, Snoopy was dancing, and the Christmas story was being told inside a barn that changed scenes when the barn doors opened and closed.  In short, it was magic.  The characters, including Peppermint Patty, Pig-Pen, Marcie, Linus, Charlie Brown, Woodstock, and Sally, placed on tracks among lovingly hand-painted sets were more than two-dimensional, plywood silhouettes, they were actors performing their Christmas spectacular!  Santa's house was also a fixture and the week leading up to Christmas, Santa himself was there as chief naughty-and-nice checker and wish-list confidant.  The tableau varied slightly from year to year as the homeowner introduced new sets, additional characters, and bigger ideas, but the feeling of joy was as consistent as the yearly extravaganza.

The revolving Christmas story
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The revolving Nativity
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I wonder, is it a sacrilege to wax nostalgic about Disneyland and The Peanuts Gang in the same post?  I don't know but the reason I discuss the Snoopy House is because this wacky tacky institution and lifelong part of my Christmas tradition, sadly, is no longer.  Today, there was an article in our local paper  detailing the foreclosure of the little house; it briefly outlined the financial details but the real focus was on the demise of a local holiday tradition.  The owner was most upset by his inability to maintain his yearly commitment to the neighborhood.  The victim of a tanking economy and unscrupulous lenders, it appears that there is to be no "It's a Wonderful Life" moment for the (former?) owner.  You'd think that such a neighborhood hero would automatically get a pass from the title holder but I guess they don't take into account sentiment.  Corny as it seems, if smiles were money the house could be bought and sold one thousand times over.

Dancers
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Why do things seem so vivid and magical to a kid?  Why is a kid able and willing to see past the paint and plywood?  I think that is a cornerstone of wacky tacky for me, trying to recapture the wonder and easy-going nature of a child.  It would be very easy to peg me as a victim of arrested development.  On the contrary, I have little desire to be a kid again but I certainly wouldn't mind trading some of my sarcasm, pettiness, and judgment for the enthusiasm, the unbridled joy, and the simple faith of a child.

Christmas teamwork
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I had every intention of featuring the Snoopy House as a blog post this season, but as with most things my timing is far from perfect.  I will admit, I am pretty bummed that after 44 years of holiday magic, the Snoopy House is now fated to become just another nondescript house residing on a very long stretch of road surrounded by many charming but equally-nondescript dwellings.  However, I am grateful for the chance to have known the Snoopy House and to have experienced this seasonal installation of contemporary folk art.

This is the only photo I could find of us visiting the Snoopy House!

While I never knew the man who owned the Snoopy House, I am thankful to him for his generosity of spirit and the time and energy he exerted every year to make my Christmas better and brighter.  It is funny how something as simple as one man's Christmas decorations can shape the imagination of multiple generations and broaden their understanding of community, of beauty, and of Christmas.

"Christmastime is Here"

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny