I’m here to sing the praises of artificial Christmas trees. I haven’t had a live Christmas tree in my house since I was, oh, yea-high to some hopping insect or another. And really, artificial is the way to go. In fact, I think the live-tree vendors are participants in one of the greatest hornswoggles there is: That a live tree is a REAL CHRISTMAS TREE. Here’s why I think they’re wrong.
1. False “nostalgia.” Yeah, yeah. We all had real trees growing up. (Or, at least most of us did.) So, therefore, we should still have one. It’s traditional!
But did you ever ask why we had live trees? I think one answer is because in the ’50’s and ’60’s realistic-looking Christmas trees were very expensive (if you could find them among all the silver aluminum trees or the green plastic ones “flocked” with white to simulate snow). So, we went to the tree lot (or the tree farm), picked a tree — or cut it down — and took it home. The tree was that was beautiful for a time (until it turned into a tinderbox). Then we took it to the curb.
What a waste of a beautiful, once-living tree.
Alternative: a good artificial one that can be reused or a live tree (yes, one with a nasty ole root-ball) that can be replanted.
2. Oooh, Isn’t the Smell of a Live Tree Great? Hate to tell you, folks, but all the live trees I’ve seen up close this Christmas, didn’t, uh, smell. At all.
Some have truly bought into this scent-ual belief; but, really, can a tree tucked away in the corner of your living room scent the entry, the dining room, other rooms?
Do an experiment now — if your live tree is still up, that is: Sniff. Yes, sniff. How close to the tree do you have to be to smell, really smell, the pine scent? Oh, you’ve taken the tree down because it’s drying out? Well, try this experiment next year.
3. It’s sad when the tree comes down. Well, I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to take the tree down the week after Christmas. Yup. (Yes, you really should if your tree is past the tinderbox phase mentioned above and well on the way to spontaneous combustion from a stray static electricity spark.)
The photo above is of our Christmas tree. Our artificial Christmas tree. It went up a couple weeks before Christmas and is still up. The best time of day is morning as we sit in the living room drinking our wake-up coffee bathed in the soft glow of the multicolored lights. No blinking, no music. Just the steady glow of the mini-lights.
As I sit there sans-contacts or glasses, the lights are blurred. It reminds me of the song “Nearsighted,” by Rupert Holmes — of The Pina Colada Song.” “… the day is brighter, softer, lighter when it’s slightly blurred.”
The tree will come down, eventually. Probably sometime in mid-January. The space will return to its former chair/floor lamp/side table configuration. Very utilitarian. Very standard-issue. The magic of the Christmas tree will be gone for another year.
But we will have had ours up for more than a month. All you live-tree aficionados can’t do that.
Don’t you wish you could?