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A Little Something For The Rest Of Us by Bob Church
Suffice to say practically any species of conifer (Hey, there's a Conifer, Colorado, will that do?) will adequately serve as a generic Christmas tree. It should be noted that while deciduous trees would probably work in a pinch, there seems to be a marked predisposition against their selection as adornment for the annual holiday festivities. No one in a position of scholarship has been able to explain this to me, but if I recall the premise correctly, the tradition demands a tree capable of causing painful pricks, merely by brushing up against it. I think it became parents' not-so-subtle remonstration to the children; avoid crashing into it (causing a hell of a mess) or suffer mightily for your sins. This becomes even more apparent after the
New Year's celebration, when attempts are made to remove the
now-deceased flora from one's abode. I recommend a good set of
steel reinforced welders' gloves and at least three layers of
clothing. By this time, the needles have become long, razor-sharp
implements of torture, designed by nature to punish us for the
sin of cutting the tree down in the first place. I regard this
as the organism's only opportunity for revenge. Speaking as a veteran of many Christmas
Tree Wars, and as one who sports enough scars on his forearms
to be confused with the average heroine junkie, I must ask, is
there no room for compromise? Is there no other tree suitable
for substitution? I suppose there is a certain poetic statement made by the selection of conifers over the more placid beech or alder. Were I more eloquent, perhaps I could tell you what it is. I'm straining to imagine the visual impact a nice Aspen might have (snuck another Colorado city in, notice that?). Of course, at Christmas, most, if not all, the leaves would be gone. Sad. The gold of the autumn-changed leaves would provide a marvelous counter-point to the symphony of colors associated with the yuletide holiday, and afterwards provide a ready source of available compost. (Hey, wait a minute, that was almost poetic,
wasn't it?) As you bedeck your halls with boughs of
hol-- Never mind, holly's a conifer, too. Frankly, I'm beginning
to think selection has far more to do with marketing than tradition.
I envision someone sitting in a cubicle on the fourth floor of
the Conifer Marketers Association dreaming up ways to increase
sales. Aren't other flower breeders out there
trying to sell their products? Think about it… there are
a myriad of possibilities that could be veritable holiday gold
mines! What, pray tell, would be wrong with substituting a nice
lilac, tamarind or hollyhock? Either would provide the intended
color and fullness without the associated tactile misery of juniper
or spruce. I can hear the new Christmas Carol now… "O Tannen-Bush, O Tannen-Bush…"
Oh, wait… on second thought, maybe
not. I don't know that Dubya could take it. Bob Church©11/2/07
Bob Church resides in mid-Missouri with his wife of three decades, Louise, their poodle, Carla, and their cat, Callie. After thirty years spent raising five children, he has reached the point in his life that allows time to pursue his real love, writing. You can find more of his stories/observations at notquiteright/ For more from Bob visit his other stories: then & before; his columns: now, then, before; and his poetry: then and before. |
Cheshire Cat
Nothin' Better
Songs
of
Life In The
Well, it's almost on us again. It's rapidly becoming
time for our yearly shrine dedicated to excess, Christmas. Of
course, with it comes the pilgrimage to our local purveyor of
pine. I don't know scotch pine from evergreen, except that, to
my knowledge, there is no town in Colorado called Scotch Pine,
which is not true of Evergreen. If one wished to belabor the
point, he could give a species called Douglas fir some proximal
importance by noting there is a county named Douglas.
