The Gnome Problem

I live in a completely wonderful area of the world:

America, land of the free and home of the brave.

North Carolina, the perfect blend of every season, fresh and salt water, and we invented the airplane. Suck it.

A small town, where everyone is friendly and hilarious and not easily swayed by easy-come, easy-go worldview trends.

Yep. It's great. But there is a dark side to this sunny patch of earth, and I'm about to reveal it to the world:

*Darla music*

Lawn gnomes.

Now, I know what you're thinking, that it's really not that big a deal. And maybe it's not.

But it just might be.

See personally, I cannot fathom the appeal. Who even invented the tacky little lawn-wreckers? I mean, it's bad enough throughout the month of December when we have to drive by and see Jesus and his entire passe camped out next to the geraniums, but at least I get that. It's some peoples idea of being festive.

But gnomes. GNOMES, people. They don't have the sappy appeal of cupids, the dorky appeal of dwarves, or the regal appeal of Elves. {Although, make anything in porcelain and slap it in your yard and it automatically loses all appeal to me. Just personally.}

Out of genuine, baffled curiosity, I went to the only reliable internet source {Wikipedia, naturally} and found this definition:

"A gnome is a diminutive spirit in Renaissance magic and alchemy. Its characteristics have been reinterpreted to suit the needs of various story-tellers, but it is typically said to be a small, humanoid creature that lives underground."

I see. So basically it's a man-fairy.

I was further disturbed to see that Wiki had a section of the page completely dedicated to Garden Gnomes, and had to leave the site immediately.

Can anyone explain this to me? Is there some great, cosmic meaning to the gnomery around my town? Have I missed the memo? Am I to be labeled a non-believer in gnomology?

*sigh* I don't know. I just don't know. If it were up to me, I'd shut down manufacturing of the creepy little yard-stalkers immediately. I mean, who knows?? One of these days we may wake to something truly terrifying, like Buddy the Gnome at our window with a chainsaw.

I encourage you to take a stand against this. Don't buy lawn gnomes. Don't let your mother buy lawn gnomes. Don't let your senile next door neighbor buy lawn gnomes. They're weird, they're creepy, and God knows what they plan behind our backs.

I have to go now. There's a porcelain mob at my doorstep.

~Stephanie