It’s the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and your neighbor’s house is already twinkling like a Hallmark movie set. A shiny van from some professional lighting service pulls away, its crew of uniformed workers waving cheerily as they head off to drape the next house in LED perfection. Meanwhile, you stand in your driveway, box of tangled lights in hand, wondering if you’re falling behind.
Here’s the truth: you aren’t. The sight of outsourced Christmas cheer is a reminder of something deeper, something that’s been slipping away from modern men for years. We’ve been sold the idea that convenience is king, that it’s better to hire someone to do the messy, frustrating, and physically demanding parts of life while we sit back and scroll our phones. But the things worth doing—truly worth doing—are rarely easy. And that includes hanging your own damn Christmas lights.
There’s a kind of beauty in a task that requires sweat, patience, and a little risk. But we’ve been trained to avoid discomfort at all costs. After all, why climb a ladder in the cold when you can write a check and let someone else take the hassle?
The problem is that outsourcing isn’t just about saving time. It’s about giving away something primal, something deeply connected to what it means to care for and take pride in your home. There’s a reason you feel a certain satisfaction when you step back and see the lights glowing—because you did that. The ladder scrapes, the numb fingers, the swearing under your breath as you untangle those lights for the third time—it all adds up to something meaningful.
When we delegate the work of the household, we lose more than just a sense of accomplishment. We lose the opportunity to model hard work, problem-solving, and even a bit of good humor in adversity to the people who matter most: our families.
Historically, the home has been the man’s domain as much as anyone else’s. Not just in the sense of being a provider, but as a builder, fixer, and maintainer. Putting up the Christmas lights—or mowing the lawn, fixing the sink, and painting the nursery—wasn’t just about getting a job done. It was about taking ownership, investing yourself in the place and people you love.
In today’s world, where trades are undervalued and desk jobs dominate, these opportunities for hands-on work are precious. They remind us that manliness isn’t about flexing at the gym or winning at the office; it’s about creating, maintaining, and protecting what you’ve been given.
Hanging your own Christmas lights might seem trivial, but it’s a small rebellion against the creeping commercialism that tells us to hand off every act of care to a professional. It’s a way of saying, “This is my home, and I take pride in it.”
Will you curse under your breath while trying to find the one burned-out bulb that’s sabotaging the whole strand? Probably. Will you wonder, mid-ladder climb, if you’re one slip away from spending Christmas in a cast? Possibly. But will you feel a deep sense of pride when the last bulb is glowing and your wife's face and your kids’ faces light up as they step outside? Absolutely. Not only will you feel that pride, your family will take pride in you - they noticed you putting in the effort to bring them joy.
Hanging your own lights is about more than aesthetics. It’s about reclaiming the small, messy tasks that make life richer. It’s about setting an example for your children and showing them that work—real, physical work—has dignity. It’s about rejecting the idea that we should always pay someone else to handle the inconvenient parts of life.
This Christmas, resist the siren call of convenience. Drag the ladder out of the garage. Dust off those old strings of lights. Untangle them one strand at a time, even if it takes all afternoon. Hang them on your home with care, even if they end up a little crooked.
In a world that wants us to delegate everything, let this be your quiet act of defiance. Hang your own damn Christmas lights. Because when you do, you’re not just decorating your house—you’re building something far more enduring: pride, character, and a legacy of love for your family to carry forward.
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