Friday, Dec. 5, 2003 | 5:05 a.m.
Susan Snyder's column appears Mondays, Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at [email protected] or (702) 259-4082.
WEEKEND EDITION Dec. 6 - 7, 2003
Is yours real or fake?
Oh, clean it up. I'm talking about your Christmas tree.
If last year's figures hold steady, chances are 70 percent of the trees displayed this year will come from boxes or the attic.
They're fakes, according to National Christmas Tree Association figures.
In 1990 the number of real and fake trees displayed were about even -- 35.4 million real trees compared to 36.3 million artificial ones. But last year, association figures show, only 22.3 million of the Christmas trees came from the land, while 57.2 million came from factories.
For most people the real-or-fake debate begins the day after Thanksgiving and continues through the first weekend in December, when the association says 85 percent of tree purchases are made.
In the United States, many of us first explore the philosophical component of this conflict through "A Charlie Brown Christmas," a television classic that debuted in 1965. Those who eschew plastic pines roam live-tree lots with a critical eye to avoid bringing home the "Charlie Brown tree."
Philosophy aside, the question also is a practical one. We consider who will be sweeping up the needles. And, perhaps most importantly, we consider the cat.
Some felines, like the cross-eyed Siamese lunatic we acquired when I was 5, are drawn to a live tree's interior as if salmon dangles from its branches.
So we bought one of those white jobbies encrusted with blobs of sparkly synthetic snow. A rotating light that cast a rainbow of colors on the tree completed this 1960s nightmare before Christmas.
The cat ignored it. I got hives.
We then purchased a green, "real-looking" artificial tree along with a rotating stand that twirled it slowly while playing Christmas carols. Think you can never get enough of "Silent Night?"
Think again.
A rotating base also means ornaments, which for three minutes are fun to hang, must be evenly distributed. Instead of having only a couple of sides to examine, Mother was able to sit on the living room sofa and critique the tree from every angle without moving a muscle -- except the one in her jaw.
"You've put two red ones together there. You missed the bottom branches. Why did you leave a hole there? Move that wad of tinsel to the other side."
Ho, ho, ho. Deck the who?
Still, the fake fir's appeal increased as my brother and I grew. The branches were color-coded according to length to ensure a perfect cone shape year after year.
One year we built it upside-down. The year our folks moved to Florida we inserted only two rows of the longest branches at the top and told Mom it was a palm tree. (And she told us how the angel got on top of the Christmas tree.)
My current cat wouldn't waste energy climbing a tree without a live bird waiting at the top. So we always have a live one now. None are perfect, and there's usually a side with a hole that must be shoved against the wall.
But at least the water pan doesn't sing Christmas carols until visions of felonies dance in our heads.
archive
