Der Komissar's Kristmas

Huntington is a pretty cool place. And by cool I mean not terribly remarkable. There's main street that has a lot of local places, including (when I last counted) three pizza joints. Wait, hold on......... yeah, three that I know of.

But, when December rolls around, there is one place that immediately captures everyone's attention. Everyone who wanders nearby, that is:


If you look closely, behind the black car, you'll see-- no no, the black car in the middle. Anyway, you'll see a store (hopefully). It's-- no, a bit to the left, see? Yeah that one. What? No look, see, look closely. If you look closely and have not been blinded, that's a Union Jack on the signage. Yes, for god's sake THAT ONE. NOW SHUT UP.

Anyway, that's what I call the Union Jack Store. I have no idea what it sells because I've never been on that side of the street. And it's a fairly nondescript place 11 months out of the year.

But in December, this lonely little shop does something amazing: it BLASTS Christmas music. You can hear it half a block away. And during Christmastime, Union Jack becomes Der Komissar.

Huntington's main street is usually traffic-ridden, but the traffic lights are such that when the nearby lights turn red, very few cars are around. So the street becomes quiet. And there's that store, droning its Christmas music on.

As far as I can tell, it prefers more traditional fare, such as Bing, Perry and Frank. One day it was playing some Glo though, which was neat but unfortunately her Christmas work isn't that good.

The effect is, to say the least, somewhat eerie. If you're the only person walking around, even if there are cars and other signs of life and shit, it makes you feel like you're the last person on earth, and all you have for company is a goddamn talking building. There are no other decorations, no lights, no candy canes, no Santas, not even a Kwanzaa candelabra (I used to know what it was called but, sadly, that has vanished).

Why is it called Der Komissar? It reminds me of those old anti-Soviet propaganda pieces of the Russo-American "friendship centers" that would theoretically pop up in an America conquered by THE REDS. The point of such centers is to blast friendly propaganda at everyone over a loudspeaker, endlessly looping non-threatening but vaguely threatening messages telling everyone to not resist. I'm 40% sure this popped up in Red Dawn. Someone look it up for me.

So here's Der Komissar, relentlessly singing at people, telling them to cheer up. When there's a lot of noise and movement, the sound gets drowned out, but when nobody's nearby, you can hear it clear as day. The sounds of Perry Como singing about how awesome the birth of Jesus echoing all over a mostly empty street is somewhat unsettling. But it's cool in it's own way.

I imagine cities like New York are filled with Der Komissars, lined up next to each other, shrieking Christmas muzak at you in an attempt to make you SMILE, DAMN YOU, IT'S CHRISTMASTIME WHY AREN'T YOU SMILING??? I can't imagine anything more revolting.

The only other analogue is being in a mall during Christmas shopping. Roosevelt Field is the only place I've done this in, and the feeling is neat, but you can barely hear the music over the bustle and shit. But the effect is more positive. When you pick up the BGM, that and the activity combine to rev you up and get you ready to consume shit.

Here, though, it's entirely unique. It's just your ears and Der Komissar, and all Der Komissar has is his lonely Christmas tunes. I don't know what Der Komissar hopes to gain from it. I don't think it boosts its sales of whatever it's selling. Maybe, though, it's just Der Komissar's way of telling everyone to just chill the fuck out this (and every) Christmas by lulling you to sleep. It's reminding us that even through the happy muzak, there's still a pervasive loneliness that strikes millions of people this time of year. This, perhaps more than most other things, is the true meaning of Christmas: that brainless music and bright lights are not real, are not human and are not healthy.

But when you're walking alone down mainstreet and you come within earshot of Der Komissar, there he is singing at you with the old songs, letting you know that, yes, it always used to be this way and that, yes, it's okay to feel normal this time of year, because on Dec. 26, Der Komissar turns back into Union Jack, but you'll still be there, and now the streets will be completely silent, so at least try to absorb what joy you can.

Before Christmas is through, I will go into Der Komissar and see if I can learn anything more about this. With any luck, I will not be captured and brainwashed into a filthy, stinking RED. Or a LIMEY. WHATEVER. I HAVE MY EYE ON YOU, DER KOMISSAR.