I spend a good deal of time at Hobby lobby. I try to “go” at that time of day when other men “go,” but I have not figured out when that is. Most of the other men I see at Hobby Lobby are on their phone, walking about four feet behind their wives’ cart or fixing the plumbing in the customers restroom.
During the holiday season it is common for me to build auction items for our annual “Bids for Kids” fundraiser so my trips to Hobby Lobby become very frequent. The holiday season coincides with hunting season, so it stands to reason you won’t see a bunch of guys clogging up the isle arguing with their spouse over which “wall hanging with a witty saying” will look better over the kitchen table.
Coincidently, last week I was rounding the corner between the candles that smell like my Aunt Mildred’s living room and a row of ceramic cows when I ran smack into another guy. In shock at the rare occasion, I hear the man’s wife ask him which “Santa on a stick he prefers?” One of the Santa’s has both arms above his stocking hat in a pumping motion like he is raising the roof and there is a string of Ho Ho Ho’s coming out the back side of him. The other is muted in a more traditional way. Someone took the time to paint it and then sand off three quarters of the paint to look like it had already been sitting in the front yard since the Nixon administration.
While the fellow’s wife was obviously leaning toward the rambunctious Santa, I could see the guy eye balling the sad looking one with the bad paint job. “This one will look great stuck right next to the Burford holly beside the driveway,” said the wife as she started to load her Santa of choice in the cart. Not letting go of his Santa I could tell the guy didn’t even hear a word his wife said. There was a faraway wistful look in his eye, and it was apparent to me at that moment that his mind was no longer in Hobby Lobby.
“My momma had one exactly like this when I was growing up” he said. It’s funny how a Santa on a stick and a certain time of year can bring it all together. The wife placed her Santa back on the shelf, put her hand on her husband’s arm and started pushing the cart. I could just imagine the cashier asking the guy “Do you want to hold onto that?” and I smiled.
The holidays cause us to celebrate those moments we want to turn into memories and those memories that were moments we hope will never fade. Happy Holidays!
– President & CEO