Five Views of a Christmas Tree
By Judith Cullen
“There’s no way I am paying good money for a tree that looks like that!” When you grow up in the
and you move to the heartland of America, trying to buy a Christmas
tree can be disappointing. They are shipped
in from whence you came, and I know what I felt like after three days in a truck
was still fully alive. No offense is
intended to the good people who purvey holiday tree joy to the residents of the
Midwest or to the aesthetic tastes of those
same good folk. To me, the color just
wasn’t right, the limbs seemed weak. I
didn’t even have to take a close look. I
could see that they were “lacking” from the parking area.
There were also a lot of “shirred” trees. That’s were they trim a trees branches with a hedge trimmer so that they fit some sort of pre-determined notion of symmetry and perfection. I hate those trees. When you come from a land brimming with “the real deal” these all seem fake. I felt the same way about the puny apples I saw in the grocery, waxed to within an inch of their lives to increase their visual appeal. “I know how long you’ve been in the packing case,” I would think as I passed them by. To me, a good apple should rival a softball in diameter, not a wiffle ball.