I like to think of myself as an observant person even if I’m not observant in the religious sense. I do like the whole 12 days of Christmas deal and think the Christmas season doesn’t end until Jan. 6th, today.  I like the wise men wandering. It is wise to wander. And The Roches have the best version of “We Three Kings” ever.   We Three Kings: The Roches

I suppose extending the holidays is just an excuse to keep baking and eating Christmas confections, but what better use can you make of M & Ms, Hershey’s kisses, and square pretzels other than plopping one on top of the other in a compact concoction of salty, chocolate meltiness?

But that’s not why I called you here today. Just before Christmas I got tickets for a holiday nighttime glitter tour of Monument Ave. here in Richmond. Seemed cheery and seasonal and useful to me as I work on my guidebook to Richmond. Ok, so it was a bust. One guide yelled at the top of her lungs to the large crowd who had gathered, so that when we were given the chance to run away with another guide, we did.  Our more soft-spoken guide knew her Richmond history but was a little more vague on what we were seeing along Monument Ave: “There’s a pretty door.”  Well, yes it was, but no real need for that sort of information transmission.  Anyway, my party of three wandered off to the Strawberry St. Cafe mid-tour to grab a pleasant bite.

On our way back to the car, we saw an old white Caddy all decked out for the holidays parked on the corner of Monument. Santa was in the driver’s seat and it was jammed with wrapped packages inside and topped with more. We went over to take a few pictures when a Cadillac Escalade pulled over, blocking traffic, and the driver waved and asked if the car was ours.  Completely unnecessarily, but certainly friendly-like, he got out of his car to take our photo in front of the Christmas car and then called his wife over so I could take their photo, with my camera, laughing the whole time since we knew damned well that we didn’t need their photo (we didn’t actually need our photo either) and they would never get it since we didn’t know who the hell they were.  Somebody was tipsy and it wasn’t me. It’s likely they’ve been searching the web for weeks trying to track it down. So here it is:

Who are these people? A Christmas mystery. And that concludes the holiday season.

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