Growing up we had a plastic tree that looked so obviously fake that it was mortifying. So much so, I never invited friends over for the month of December lest word of this “tree” got out to the general public. Hell, I didn’t invite anyone over for January, either, because that sucker was still up into February some years. I swore back then that I would only have a real tree when I was grown up and on my own and I would take it down the day after Christmas.
My first year of medical school, as I began wracking up the close to $100,000 debt for my education, I decided it was time for my first tree. So I went to the local home and garden store, in this case, Home Depot, and found that while I had enough money to buy a tree stand I did not have the money to purchase the actual tree.
This was a problem.
Instead, I purchased a scrawny, pathetic little thing that measured maybe a foot and a half high for $10. It was a little seedling in a red plastic wrapped pot that was sprayed with glitter on the branch tips. I consoled myself by saying that I could plant it afterward and would not have to live with a murdered tree on my conscience. It was so flimsy, though, that any ornament, even those hollow blown glass balls, sent it drooping, bending over to kiss the tabletop.
Ultimately, that tree never did get planted. I lived in an apartment after all. There was no place to plant it. While I could have taken it to my parents home and planted it in their yard, that would have required explaining the reality of my first tree to them after my many years of boastful scoffing. So far as they knew, my tree was a magnificent specimen of Yuletide cheer and I was going to keep it that way.
Pride made me kill that tree and after a few months, when it had finally turned all brown and dessicated, I threw it into the back dumpster to hide the evidence.
Incidentally, my parents still use the hideous plastic monstrosity of my childhood. It gets barer every year as bits and pieces fall off but it is still recognizable as a tree. That thing may just outlast us all.
(The photo above is one of the ornaments on my tree. Care to hazard a guess as to what exactly it is? Hint: It is an infectious partical and it cracks me up every time I look at it!)