Black Friday I stumbled onto the truth. On 43rd Street, between Folsom and M, a half dozen, or so, giant elves were briskly twining lights around the sycamores.
I was peeking at the “man behind the curtain.” There they were, the evil geniuses—creators of the holiday light conspiracy.
I recognized many of them: the lady who walks the akitas, the man and woman I used to babysit for, their now grown son, the gardening guru.
(Thank you neighbors Nancy Greenlee, the Speakmans and the rest of the friends on 43rd for creating such twinkling beauty!)