THE PERFECT TREE - Segment 3 (Scroll down for earlier segments)  

     Wrestling Christmas trees has helped me earn a “green belt” in Tree Wrestling.  Having gone numerous rounds with this species, I’ve learned several good moves.  The “Dumpster Heave” is my favorite.  Our son has been encouraging me to enter the World Tree Wrestling competition next December, in Christmas Valley, Oregon.  

     Along with the tree wrestling, I’ve also developed a nice tree-talk routine that our kids enjoy.  I’ve perfected several unintelligible sounds that I like to make while attempting to put up a tree.  (My wife says they’re the same sounds I make when she asks me to take out the garbage.)  
    
     One year I found the perfect tree.  It was in my neighbor’s living room, nicely decorated.  I offered him my car in trade, but he refused.  To sweeten the deal, I offered to throw in a pair of my daughter’s earrings, which he could also use as road reflectors.  He refused to budge.  This left me no choice but to stomp out of his house in tears.

     Since my neighbor squelched my attempt to obtain the perfect tree and my wife doesn’t like tree wrestling in the house, I found a stress-free tree.  It was a stick.  I didn’t even need a tree stand.  I just put it in a vase with water and set it on the table.  Then I topped it with an angel.  People came by and asked, “Where’d you get the stick with the angel on top?”

 

     “It’s my stress-free Christmas tree,” I answered. “I hope all of you find one.”

     I sometimes yearn for that simple Christmas of yesteryear, when I would go out with Gramps in search of the “Great Tree.” 

     He would grab his trusty axe.  “Let’s go out to the back forty and get us a tree,” he would say.  And off we would go, through rain, sleet, snow, and cold. 

     After walking about twenty yards, I’d ask, “Is this the back forty, Gramps?”

     “No, it’s up yonder,” he’d answer.  Then he’d point to a place much farther than you could see with the Hubble telescope. 

 

      I still remember those days as delightful times, especially if you survived the Happy Valley Death March to the back forty and returned with the “Great Tree.”     

     Today, very few make that long trek into the forest, staring hypothermia in the face, to find the perfect tree.  They go to a tree farm or a tree lot in town.  I’m ashamed to admit it, but I, myself, have resorted to this method.

     With prices climbing every year, I not only want the perfect tree, I want the cheapest tree.  “If we run out and buy the first tree we see, it will cost a fortune,” I explained to my wife.  “The key is waiting.  The longer we wait, the more the price drops.  If we wait long enough, we can get a great deal.”  I was right! 

     “It’s just a trunk,” moaned my wife.

     “Look at the nice poinsettia you can set on it,” I countered.

     “This is not even a tree.”

    “Well, it’s part of a tree,” I answered. “It’s the perfect trunk.  And it’s cheap.  Next year we’ll look for the perfect tree.”

To be continued...check back soon

     


   

THE PERFECT TREE-Segment 2 (Scroll down for opening segment)

     Around the first week of December our family bundles up and goes out in search of that perfect Christmas tree.  After a lengthy hunt, we finally get committee approval for a tree.

     I want to decorate the tree at the lot, and come by to visit it.  It would be much easier than wrestling with the tree at home.    Besides, it has a distinct size advantage.   The committee overrules me. 

     So we now have to decide who is going to walk home in the cold, while the tree rides in the car.   There's not enough room for everyone.   My son suggests we put the tree on the roof of the car.  I tell my son that would scare the sap out of the tree and, besides, I’m not a tree-on-the-roof kind of guy.   It has to go in the car.

     Our son agrees to wait by the fire in the shed at the tree lot while the tree rides home with the rest of the family.   He reminds me to pick him up before the tree wrestling scene.   So we put down the back seats, open the back hatch, and shove the tree into the car.   I drive home with the base of the tree almost riding on the top of my head.  I hope pitch doesn't get  in my hair.  Pitch is worse than gum...hard to comb out.

     We finally get the tree home.  Then I go back to the lot and pick up our son.  Once home, I try to stall, hoping Christmas will pass before I have to attempt putting up the tree.  But the committee is not going for the stall tactic.  So we move all the furniture into the garage to make room for the tree.  

     Somehow I get the tree into the house.   Now I have to saw the base off so it’s flat at the bottom, and will stick into the teeth of the tree stand.  My wife complains because I’m running the chain saw in the house.  I tell her I’m going to cut up some table legs for the woodstove.   I’m just kidding.   Now it’s time to fit the tree into the tree stand.   Note:  Don’t try this at home, alone.  This is exactly what the tree wants; you and he alone, where he can turn you into a carpet square.
  

     Once you have enlisted a wrestling troupe to help, you can quit making death threats against the tree.  You can now place the tree into the stand.  Oops!  The trunk is too big for the stand.  You utter several more threats.  Then you run to the tree stand store and get the right size. 
 

     Another attempt is made to place the trunk into the tree stand.  It will fit if you cut off the lower limbs.  The committee is getting restless.   My wife is concerned that the tree will turn brown and the needles will fall off before I get it into the tree stand.  It’s going to need water soon. 

     Now let me regress for a moment.  Years ago, this was a simple process.   Trees would be stood upright in a bucket.  Then the bucket would be filled with rocks, holding the tree upright.   If the tree refused to stand up straight, the rocks would be used to stone the tree. 
 
   Okay, back to reality.  I’m having trouble getting the tree in the correct upright position.  The committee goes outside to look for rocks, but I don’t think they’re going to stone the tree.  My wife informs me that the tree is long overdue for water.  We may need a fire hose. 

   After a relentless struggle, involving much pushing and shoving, along with a discussion regarding the lifespan of the tree, I manage to get the tree into an upright position.  The committee puts down their rocks while I faint from exhaustion.

     I wake up to find myself lying spread-eagled, under the tree, covered with needles.  Looking down at me, the tree is smiling from limb to limb, trimmed to size and nicely decorated, thanks to my wife and kids. 

To be continued...check back soon

THE PERFECT TREE--Opening segment (Scroll down for previous chapters)     

     
     It was three weeks before Christmas.  Our family was on our annual hunt for the “Great Tree,” when I ran into my good friend, Ozzie.  “Still trying to find that perfect tree?” he asked, with a mixture of cynicism and amusement.

     “You know me.  I’m always trying to find that elusive tree.”

     “I once believed it was possible to find one,” Ozzie continued, “but my encounter with that branch this past summer, shattered my belief in perfect trees.”  

       

     Ozzie and his wife were enjoying an outdoor concert when, without warning, a rogue tree flung one of its branches at Ozzie’s wife.  Ozzie managed to intercept the branch.  For his act of heroism, Ozzie won a two week, all expenses paid, roundtrip ticket to a local hospital.  He was thankful the ticket was roundtrip. 

     He now viewed all trees with suspicion.  “You can never trust a tree,” says Ozzie.  “A tree may stand there smiling at you, but beneath those branches may be a tree with a serious behavior disorder.”

     Having been slapped around by a number of trees myself, I could understand Ozzie’s thinking.  Trying to find the perfect tree is never easy.  Christmas trees can be especially belligerent.  You may think you have found the ONE, but start spinning it around for a better look and you’ve got trouble. ”Hey! Stop it! That makes me dizzy; do it once more and you’ll get a face full of needles!” 

     Finding the perfect tree has always been a yearly challenge;   one that usually finds me engaged in that age-old sport of tree wrestling.  

To be continued...check back soon.