As a child (I am a Gen Xer), my grandparents and my mother would bundle us up in December, throw us in the car, and drive around to look at neighborhood Christmas lights. Each time we saw a house we particularly thought special, we all repeated the phrase "ooh-la-la!" I don't know why, but it was a tradition. I catch myself still doing this; however, I usually say it in my head, not out loud.
There was rarely anything spectacular about these displays of my youth, usually consisting of blue, and sometimes multi-colored lights adorning the gutter of a home, or a sparsely draped tree in a front yard. Nothing that would warrant an enthusiastic "ooh-la-la" from the peanut gallery. I mean, we saw nothing elaborate like gigantic 9 feet tall snow men or a Santa Claus hydraulically popping up and down from an inflatable chimney belting out, "Ho, Ho, Ho!" that one sees (and unfortunately hears) proudly displayed on lawns today.
No, the childhood holidays of Generation Xers were much different. Simple, serene lights twinkling in the distance (and I grew up in rural West Virginia, so when I say distance, I mean it) against a dark night sky was enough for us. Chilly evenings driving around in a car oohing and ahhing at the subtlety. No garish, obnoxious snow globe balloons taking up three blocks...oh my God, I have now become my mother.
Found these "vintage" Christmas lights on ebay
--Fortuitous Observer
