I don’t mind hip hop. I really don’t. In fact, I like some of it.

But blasting “All of the Lights,” by Kanye West, over and over again is inappropriate for a Christmas display. Delmar’s done it anyway, though, because Delmar is inconsiderate.

He has multicolored icicle lights strung along his gutters, and from what I can tell, they surround the entire house. Plus, he has LED snowflakes, also multicolored, hanging intermittently with the icicles. These lights flash, fade and twinkle with the music, which is streaming from an open kitchen window. “All of the Lights,” over and over again. The entire light show is on repeat.

But he also has animatronic snowmen and reindeer staked in his lawn. The snowmen slowly wave and lift their top hats. The reindeer slowly bow and lift their heads. The movements are completely out of the time with the frantic music. It’s creepy. Plus, he has a sequential light display against the right side of his house that displays a spinning ballerina. I suppose Delmar would argue it has something to do with “The Nutcracker,” but it seems more like some random decoration having nothing to do with Christmas.

Me? I’ve decorated, too, but I went with more of a tasteful, elegant look. I have blue and cool-white rope lights lining the walkway. Blue icicle lights dangle from the gutters. White lights are strung around the railing, and a lit star sits in the window. That’s it. No seizure-inducing flashes. No rap music.

Here comes Delmar. He’s come outside to enjoy his own light show.

“Hey, Delmar!” I shout. “What’s with the music.”

“It fits,” Delmar explains. “It’s called ‘All of the Lights,’ and I have all of these lights.”

Delmar’s a smug asshole.

“Wouldn’t Christmas music be a better fit?” I ask. “Also, wouldn’t it be better to have more than one song?”

“No,” he says, crouching near one of the snowmen to adjust something at the character’s base.

I wait for additional comment, but I guess he’s done talking to me. So I go inside.

“Those lights are obnoxious,” I say to my wife Kelly, who’s wrapping gifts.

“Don’t let Delmar get to you,” she says.

I know she’s right, but I can’t help it. Surely some other neighbors are irritated, too.

“I’m going to go give Jim a visit,” I say.

“Now, don’t try to start a fight with Delmar,” she says.

“I don’t plan to,” I scoff, shutting the door behind me. The weather’s cold, grey and dank, so I wear a cap and jacket.

I knock on Jim’s door. He lives right next to Delmar. Jim’s lights, like mine, are more refined than Delmar’s random circus exhibit. Jim’s simple setup uses reds and whites.

“Howdy, neighbor,” Jim says. “Wanna come in?”

“Oh, just stopping by to say hi,” I say. “Having a good holiday so far?”

Next door, Kid Cudi is singing his short part in “All of the Lights” for the hundredth time this evening. Delmar isn’t even using the edited version, so he has the n-word blasting from his window every five minutes.

“Fair to middling,” Jim says, smiling. He’s a bit of a simpleton.

“What do you think of this nonsense over there?” I ask, gesturing toward Delmar’s.

“Oh, I eventually got used to it,” Jim says. “Delmar’s a good neighbor, so I shrug off his holiday traditions.”

Well, I think Delmar is a dick. I didn’t say that out loud to Jim. Instead, I say, “Are you sure? Because, if enough neighbors ask him to tone it down a little, I’m sure he would feel compelled. He doesn’t listen to me, but maybe if others agreed, he would decide to at least play Christmas music.”

“It’s not botherin’ me that much, neighbor,” Jim says, shrugging. “I’d rather not make a big deal out of it.”

The flashing lights at Delmar’s are giving me a headache, and Jim’s dismissal only adds to it. But I smile and say, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, buddy.” He shuts the door as I walk back across the street. I’m not your buddy, Jim. Buddies stand by each other.

I can feel him staring at me.

I stop and turn. He’s standing in his yard, a hand resting on a reindeer antler, moving slowly up and down.

“Everything alright?” he asks.

I pause then say, “No, Delmar, everything’s not okay.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong. Your Las Vegas gutter-strip is giving me a migraine, and so is that song.”

“I’m just trying to get in the holiday spirit,” he says. “Buddy.”

Did he hear my conversation with Jim?

“It’s too much, Delmar,” I tell him. “And I just don’t understand why you’re playing the song over and over. I know your whole explanation about the title being about lights, but for one, I’m sure you can find other songs about lights, and for two, I don’t know why you’re not just playing Christmas music.”

Delmar’s dancing to the music now. He’s mimicking what he probably sees in rap videos on YouTube. He’s such a jackass. He wants me to think he’s not listening, but I know he is. He’s always listening.

“I know you heard what I said, Delmar,” I said.

He just keeps dancing. So I walk back to my house.

“That son of a bitch is in the yard dancing now,” I say to Kelly. “He knows he’s pissing me off. He loves pissing me off.”

“I made some tea for you, honey,” she says. I notice the steaming cup on the coffee table. “I knew you’d be irritated when you got back and thought this might calm you down a little.”

Her kindness is what calms me. Through all my troubles, Kelly is such a positive force in my life. She truly has Christmas spirit.

“Thanks, babe,” I say, and I kiss her forehead. I sit and begin sipping the tea.

About 10 minutes later, I’m very calm. I don’t even care about the racket across the street, barely notice the colors blasting through the curtains.

“Wow, Kelly, what kind of tea is this?”

“It’s green tea, but I put Lunesta in it,” she says bluntly.

I’m confused. “Lunesta? The sleeping pill?”

“Yes, dear,” she says. “You really need to calm down. This is a good way for you to calm down.”

“What the hell?” I say wearily. I’m drifting away.

Turn up of the lights in here, baby, Rihanna sings. Extra bright, I want y’all to see this. Turn up the lights in here, baby. You know what I need. Want you to see everything. Want you to see all the lights.

I have visions, maybe dreams, of Delmar dancing with giant candy canes.

Cop lights, flash lights, spotlights, strobe lights, street lights, Kanye West intones. Fast life, drug life, thug life, Roc life, every night.

Delmar dances in slow motion, lights swallowing and then returning him. Snowmen dance with him. Reindeer dance, too. The lights engulf them, and then I find darkness.