I’m home from a gorgeous fifteen-miler in Griffith Park this morning. I ought to run in one of the world’s largest urban parks more often; I hadn’t pounded trail there in three years.
Last night, we decorated the Christmas tree. Growing up in a decidedly unchurched family, the tree was at the heart of what it meant to celebrate Christmas. My mother’s tree is a bejeweled work of art; it takes a day to do properly, and has well over 1000 ornaments upon it. The oldest pieces hung on her mother’s childhood trees a century ago.
For all of my life, we’ve been a “Douglas fir” family. (Call it the official tree of OKOP!) There are rules, you see; noble firs and colored lights are decidedly NOKOP. (One of my cousins once married a woman from a colored light family, and it caused quite a stir. Marrying across ethnic lines is one thing, marrying someone who appreciates “flocking” and blinking lights is another. A family has to have standards.) But yesterday, at the tree lot, the Douglas firs we saw looked rather pathetic and tired. And while the noble firs would have been beyond the realm of consideration, my wife suggested a very handsome Fraser fir. It was a fine 7-8 footer, green and healthy; most importantly, I saw no “bald patches.” All of his sides were good. And I decided to throw caution to the winds, throw one tradition out the window, and embrace change. For the first time in my nearly forty years of decorating trees, I decorated a Fraser fir last night.
My wife likes the tree, but she is happy to defer to my obsessiveness on the subject. She lets me do the lights; doing lights well is not easy, but I’ve learned a trick or two over the years. My brother-in-law came over, and he helped me do the vital work of hanging the colored and clear balls; those go on before the “special” ornaments. The balls get hung on the insides of the branches, and they serve to reflect and enhance the effect of the lights. Once we’ve put a hundred balls on the tree (clear, red, silver and gold only), then we can hang the more interesting ornaments. Over the years, I’ve inherited some old things from my childhood trees. I have a very special toy soldier that has been on every tree since I was born, and he always is hung in the front and near the center.
I’m always on the lookout for Christmas ornaments. My wife, who often travels without me, knows to buy unique ones when she sees them. My mother taught me that gaudy costume jewelry can often make interesting ornaments; I have a pair of dangling earrings, bought from a Venetian vendor, that do splendidly on the tree. (They’d be ghastly hanging from the ears.) The idea is that each ornament ends up telling a story. Each year, as we unwrap the tissue paper and pull an ornament out, we can exclaim “Remember when we bought this?” Or “Oh, it’s my old polar bear ornament that I got when I was eight!” No other Christmas tree in the world has quite the same mix of decorations as ours, and each year’s collection is different. Each year, we add ornaments, and in the decades to come, will surely have ever more elaborate and bejeweled displays. When we have children, we’ll buy ornaments for their “first trees”, and if we’re lucky, they’ll take the same degree of joy that I do in the decorating.
This morning, I got up just after 5:00 to get ready for my run. I said my morning prayers, poured my coffee, and then sat in the living room with the tree lights on and all the other lights off. I’m an impatient, fidgety man — but I can stare at a beautiful Christmas tree for half an hour. I’m a happy man today, with the scent of the season filling the house.
Oh, and the chinchillas are happy too. Each chin shall have his or her own stocking this year, and we shall squeeze them all above the fireplace. While I finished the tree last night, my wife decorated each stocking with each baby’s name: Dudley, Joonko, Ninotchka, Gabriella, Chihiro and Racheli shall each have lots of nuts, craisins, and chew toys come Christmas morn.
One of my cousins once married a woman from a colored light family, and it caused quite a stir. Marrying across ethnic lines is one thing, marrying someone who appreciates “flocking†and blinking lights is another.
Hey, don’t smear us colored light people by implying that we’re all blinkers!
Oh, HUGO. When you expressed greater tolerance of child molesters than you did of people who still like The Fountainhead, I forgave. It was difficult, but I managed it. But now this?–An abhorrence of joy and COLOR?
I don’t know, Hugo, I just don’t know.
(Although I am sorta with you on the Douglas firs. Easier to hang decorations from and hold their shape longer.)
Trees should stay in the forest.
I’m a minimalist when decorating my 10-year-old fake tree. White lights, tinsel, maybe a star on the top. Anything more will only be targeted by the cats.
I second that, on letting trees live. Was quite bummed out as a young’un by finding that people just throw them away. If I ever decide to have a Yule tree in my place, I will use a fake one–I saw a crimson one the other day–and try not to think about how many rivers, etc., were harmed in the manufacturing of it.
There are people who get a live little tree in a pot and plant it afterwards.
As for the lights… with or without a tree under them…the more colors the merrier, but I like them to shine as steady as planets.
I once had a special ornament…a clown-type figure that I made in kindergarten…but when our family broke up it was forgotten until too late.
I am definitely a colored lights person (but no blinking, it’s just distracting). My fake tree is full up of multi colored lights and multi colored balls, as well as the more unique stuff from when I was a kid and my grandmother’s small angel tree topper (which I put up for sentimental value, as I’m mostly an athiest–but as soon as I find a Bumble tree topper, the angel will be relegated to ornament status). Christmas decorations should be tacky and fun, never tasteful and elegant.
Trees should stay in the forest.
and by “forest”, you mean christmas tree farm, right? because they’re virtually all grown on farms. it’s a huge industry here in the northwest, among other regions.
that said, hugo, out of curiosity, what’s wrong with noble firs? we went to a u-cut place this year for the first time, and our choices were between nobles and grands. i myself am not crazy about doug firs, mostly because they grow like weeds around here.
i’d like to hear why they are the tree of choice for YKOP. i’m with you on no colored lights though.
btw, your tree sounds beautiful. i’m envious of the years of tradition you’ve got built into your decoration collection. we’re just getting started. ::sigh::
Disliking noble firs is reflexive and illogical. It’s a purely aesthetic choice, though one riddled with class and cultural significance!
and by “forestâ€, you mean christmas tree farm, right? because they’re virtually all grown on farms. it’s a huge industry here in the northwest, among other regions.
I’d be glad to see them phased out in favor of natural growth. Or paper mill farms, if you prefer — at least then the tree’s death contributes to something, rather than being tossed out on the curb a month later.
carlaviii, fair enough.
but hugo, what don’t you like about them, aesthetically? i’m not meaning to hammer you, i’m genuinely curious.
i have kind of the same reaction against doug first, to be honest. it’s interesting.
I don’t like the sparseness of nobles; I like a fuller, denser tree. When you’ve got a lot of ornaments, the more branches, the better.
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