O Christmas Tree

As a child, one of the best times of the year was when the Christmas tree went up, as it was an undeniable sign of the impending mass distribution of free loot by some crazy old man who lived at the North Pole and ran one heck of a non-profit organization.

As an adult, however, I’ve never really felt the same way about Christmas trees. I have absolutely nothing against them, mind you, it’s just that they're no longer a requirement for my continued enjoyment of the holidays. (At this stage of my life, my enjoyment requirements are mostly fudge and peppermint based.)

Not surprisingly, never once in my life have I erected a full-sized Christmas tree in my home. It’s just always seemed a little silly to me that we bring a piece of nature (or perhaps a prefabricated piece of nature) into the warm, cozy domiciles that we’ve built for the express purpose of avoiding nature. I mean, by that logic, why stop with just a tree? Why not import enough nature so things get interesting? (“Good morning Christmas tree! Good morning moss-ridden log! Good morning flesh-shredding patch of thorny brambles! Good morning Mr. Bear. Would you like some coffee? Wait – Mr. Bear?”)

Look, I’ll freely admit there’s also a Bah-Humbug factor in play here, but my point still stands.

However, I’m not entirely hopeless, and in the words of one Mr. Red Green: “I’m a man, but I can change, if I have to…I guess.” And so, in an attempt to alleviate both the implicit and explicit social pressures I’ve been feeling over my lack of Christmas decorations, I now have a prefabricated piece of nature (I.E. an uglificial tree) proudly standing in my living room.

Please, hold your applause until the end.

Now, keep in mind that this was an emotionally draining process. Not only did I have to reverse years of my own deeply-rooted personal tradition – which in itself can sap the will out of any man –  but I also had to figure out how to assemble it without getting one or both eyes poked out by rogue branches. Needless to say, by the time I was finished I barely had the energy to keep from collapsing onto the floor and staying there until mid-January.

That brings me to my next point: After I’d expended nearly every ounce of my life force erecting the tree, it then dawned on me that I still had to trim it.

I couldn’t have expressed it better myself.

Currently, I have a total of five ornaments. They are:

• A hand-crafted ninja.
• Darth Vader wearing a Santa hat.
• A skillet containing bacon and eggs.
• A minion wearing a Santa hat.
• A stuffed Chewbacca that roars in a hilarious manner upon being squeezed. (It actually isn’t an ornament at all, and is being pressed into service only because it amuses me so.)

Now, while we can all admit that this is by far the most fantastic core grouping of ornaments a person could ever ask for, it’s obvious they can’t decorate an entire tree on their own. So I’m going to need more. However, I’ve decided that I’m not going to sacrifice quality for quantity, and by that I mean I’m not going to rush out and purchase a boatload of random ornaments just to fill out the tree. Oh no, each and every piece of potential décor will have to be deemed acceptable via a painstakingly-detailed review process consisting of making sure it satisfies at least one of the following conditions:

• If it’s store-bought, it must be at least as amazing as the bacon-and-eggs ornament. (Which is a pretty tall order.)
• If it’s hand-made, it must have been done so with love. Also, it can't have lots of pointy pieces, as I've had my fill of those putting up the tree in the first place.

Now, I realize that due to this rigid stance, my tree may not actually get fully trimmed this year. However, I refuse to compromise, and if December 25^th rolls around and I have the most pathetic looking prefabricated piece of nature ever in my living room, it’ll be just fine with me. After all, I’m a man, and I can change, if I have to, but I’ll be darned if I’m caught dead with a tree with substandard ornaments in my living room.

You may now applaud.