Happy Wanderer: So Long, Big Christmas Tree

I know this post is going to sound snobby, and given that I have witnessed people in dozens of third world countries live off of $1 a day, maybe it is. But this past weekend my sister and I experienced the end of an era, so I thought it was something worth writing about as we mourn the passing of a family tradition. For the last 15 years or so, our family has picked up Christmas trees that were big- huge even. Part of it was the sheer enjoyment of feeling overwhelmed by Christmas spirit, some of it was the fun of the event, some of it could even be chalked up to the trip to get the tree.

I'm sure that just about everyone has seen Christmas Vacation at this point, and specifically the opening scene where Clark Griswold takes the family way out into the wilderness only to return with a tree so big that when the binding cords are cut, tree limbs fly out windows and the size lays general havoc to the living room. For our family, there's a bit of truth to that. It typically takes all four of us the greater part of thirty minutes to get the tree into the house, base installed, and then vertical- complete with structural support and guy lines attached. Sap is on everything and you are never surprised at the unique places that pine needles find themselves over the next two days.

Admittedly, there are plenty of other famous trees that go up during the Holidays- Rockefeller Center and the White House spring to mind. I even saw a CNN report on the White House tree that said that there are actually specific dimensions. Seriously. According to the White House, the Christmas Tree has to be specifically 18 1/2' tall, 13' around, and have "strong, full branches" Who comes up with this stuff? Equally amusing were the interviews of onlookers who were on-site for the tree cut down and bundling: "..exciting time for the area and to come see this once in a lifetime opportunity."

So our specifications aren't quite like that, but it does breed nostalgia for us and as a result I think it's important to start from the beginning. Two days after Thanksgiving, the Sexton Family Tree Farm opens for business about 2 1/2 miles away from our house on Old Dominion Rd. There, Mr. Sexton scurries around, yelling at a flock of teenager boys who are either from Langley High School or Freshmen in college, looking for a quick buck through brute tree labor. These kids are there dressed in pine-covered sweatshirts and jeans while a fleet of cars and SUVs drive in and then 20 minutes later drive out with a big tree tied to the top. There are big trees, little trees and gargantuan trees. Mr Sexton has them all neatly arranged into groups, and the intent of being there first thing is dad's insistence on picking up one that's freshly cut.

He believes that if you get a tree within days of its being cut the thing will last much longer than if you procrastinate and grab one the week before Christmas. And like almost everything, he's right on the money. I think a few years back we had a tree that lasted until close to March and still looked like it had life left in it. When I dragged it out into the backyard Christmas Tree graveyard, I actually dug a hole and put the bottom 6 or 7 inches into the hole under the stupid assumption that the tree actually had a fighting chance. It promptly died.

Once we have sufficiently tired out a bunch of teenagers who have to drag out and stand up four or five trees that range in height from 12' to 14' tall, we select one, mom grabs 100 pine boughs that she'll never use for wreaths and then we lash the tree to the roof of whatever car we have chosen to torture on that given day. Given the hierarchy of cars in our family, this usually ends up being mine, but not the CJ-7 that's now gracing their garden as a winter squirrel home. Then the slow drive begins, where the tree strains against its tie-downs as we hit a cranking 20 mph through windy back roads leading back home. Once in the driveway, the whole family gathers again to literally drag a 150 lb tree into the house, its branches scraping now-green stained door jams and leaving a trail of pine needles that even a blind routefinder could follow. We hammer on the same base we have used consecutively for 10 years, throw the thing into the air in a scene reminiscent of the Suribachi flag raising, and then quickly tie it off to anything we can use as an ad-hoc anchor. For the rest of the night, and into the following day we decorate the crap out of the tree, putting up at least 8 light strands and about 500 ornaments. The decorations range in size and design, but largely conform to a red and straw motif which makes it look very Christmasy and does look really cool in the end. Dad then continues with a ritual watering schedule that even includes a flashlight for evening hours in order to throw in 2 gallons of water a day to keep it looking nice. By Christmas, when it's time for presents and the ritual family pictures it still looks every bit as fresh as when we picked it up.

This year, it was different from the start. Mom wants a smaller tree, stating the new floors as a reason for the downsizing. So dad goes along for the ride. After a few confusing questions and glances from Barb and I, the three of us (Mom sat this one out? What's going on here?) head to Sexton's Tree Farm, and pull in to find the lot literally deserted. There are about 20 teenage kids sitting on their asses, and Mr Sexton himself turns out to be inside taking a nap. Once we park, only one kid comes forward to help- the rest sit there and grumble, probably talking about.. you know, I can't even remember what 17 year old guys talk about anymore. Probably something geopolitical and thought producing.

We are the only ones on the lot looking for trees, and instead of head over to the big ones, we settle on the smaller pile. I don't know if it's the economy, or what. But the fact of the matter is that trees in the smaller pile end up being $115, while trees in the larger pile are a whopping $280. I also don't know who came up with their pricing strategy, but when a tree that's 10' tall is $115, and then a tree that is 11' tall is $165 more, someone needs to go and do some thinking about how these things are marked. Seriously, wtf? Just for that reason alone, why not take a 10' tree and stick it on a pedestal or something. You could go out and buy one for $100 and still end up way ahead.

As we drag out a few surprisingly light trees to compare, Dad makes comment on a few occasions about getting some of our assistants friends to come over and give him some help, but none of them do because they clearly are too deep into that very geopolitical and thought producing discussion to come over.

Anyway, so our kid holds up trees and then in the end helps us lash the tree down to the car. Where this usually takes twenty minutes, today it takes about five. Dad goes inside to pay and wakes up Mr. Sexton, who never even makes a cameo appearance. His son (I'm guessing) comes to the car, lights up some kids lazing around, and then sends a few home, I'm sure at their shock. The rest just sit there looking surly. Dad gives our helper a fat tip (take that, lazy ass kids), and we are off, easily hitting 40mph on our way home.

Getting the tree off the car and into the house is a breeze- I just lifted the thing and carried it in by myself. No pine needle trail, no branches scraping walls and leaving behind a light green tint. We hammered on a base and up it went on it's first try- without any support wires needed! It just stands there all by itself. Wow.. trees do that.

We strung lights, and to cover the entire tree it took us 4 strands this time. Loading on as many lights, ornaments and bulbs as we could the entire decorating process took on a streamlined feel- I think we knocked out the decorating in about an hour. At the end, there were still plenty of decorations left in the box and spare light strands on the floor that ended up going back downstairs. Mom was happy, Dad was quiet, and Barb and I were reminiscing of the old days.

At first, I think we were all freaked out at the prospect of a tiny tree. But I guess in the end, it's meant to be. Spending that much on a tree is a bit ridiculous, although it was an amazing addition to the Holidays. In the end, it looks like even the ritualistic neutering of the old tree where Dad takes pruning shears and cuts the tree one limb at a time so that in the end it looks like what a cat does after you dunk it in a bathtub is over. But like records are made to be broken, maybe traditions are made to be upended. Mom invented about 20 this past weekend, from Doug-Makes-Thanksgiving-Omelets to some crazy prayer circle hug thing. So maybe those new traditions can take the place of a massive tree, but I still think that it'll be sorely missed.