O Tannenbaum

When I was growing up our Christmas tree went up exactly 7 days before Christmas and came down precisely 7 days after.   I don’t recall a departure from this pattern ever, until my sisters and I went to college and it became our job to put the thing together when we got home, which seemed closer to the Big Day than kids end the semester these days but I may be wrong about that; it probably only felt we were stuck on campus that long because another Christmas with the family couldn’t come soon enough.

I say we put the thing together because we had an artificial tree that required assembly.  Mom and Dad were afraid fire would strike us one-half mile up the hill off Chandler Street in Worcester with no hydrants along the way.  Plus the hill was steep and in the winter it was slippery.  Fire trucks might not make it to the house that was burning on the top of the hill.  Everything would be lost.   It’s only now when I have a home of my own that I can appreciate that fear.  We could never have a real Christmas tree that would get dried out and burned up with the old jigunda light bulbs that each heated to 600 degrees.

I am amazed at the artificial Christmas trees of the 21st century because the artificial trees of the 1960s and 70s were no bargain.  Each year a small rectangular box got dragged down from the attic and inside were individual shiny plastic tinsel-y things in a color that was sort of green but of a hue not found anywhere in nature, not even in spring when there are thousands of shades of green.  This green was like the night-vision goggles worn by the military but maybe not even that pretty.

Every “twig” had to be painstakingly inserted into the appropriate “branch” which was then inserted into its proper place in the “trunk”.  After that we had a “tree” if you really used your imagination.

For that reason I loved spending Christmas Eve at my cousin’s house in suburban Paxton.  They had a real tree, and a real wood-burning fire in the fireplace.  You can be sure we never even considered having one of those.   The McIntyres had an all-natural Christmas and its the kind of Christmas I wanted for myself.

Because everything skips a generation I am fully aware my children will likely prefer an artificial tree for their own families someday, and maybe a yule log burning on the laptop screen, I don’t know.  Or maybe they will associate Christmas with the scent of a fresh cut tree in our living room with a fire blazing in the fireplace within the dark wood inglenook in our Berkeley Park home.

I get my trees at Goodman’s Tree Farm in Phoenix.  I did not get a free Christmas tree or a discount for writing this, but the trees are beautiful and extraordinarily affordable.  If people in New York City knew you could get an 8 foot tree for $25.00, they might be tempted to drive here just to buy one.  Or maybe even move here.  Trees cost $100.00 there and they’re cut weeks in advance.

Lyle Goodman is pushing 70, yet the retired AT & T electrical engineer prunes every tree on his 65 acre farm on Gilbert Mills Road.  Only recently did he hire some “young guys” to help him part time.  I drove there today and Goodman showed me his special trimmer that looks like a chain saw with the shape and arc of a fishing pole; trims trees up to 9 feet in the quintessential conical Christmas tree shape.

Goodman says he thought about taking up golf when he retired at 55 and golf is just fine, but he chose to open a tree farm to keep him busy.  It gets him outside, he does a lot of walking, and that tree trimmer of his weighs 50 pounds so he gets an upper body workout no swing of a club could provide.  He’s a member of the Christmas Tree Grower’s Association which he credits as vital to the start of his business 15 years ago.  It is there he learned about herbicides and pesticides and other investment-saving advice.

Lyle Goodman is a half generation ahead of the trend of professionals across the country leaving the corporate world to grow something.  Most are doing wineries but he chose Christmas trees.  You take business, marketing or scientific expertise and apply it to a career you really want.  Goodman says when you enjoy the work it’s not work.  He’s made a nice little living for himself with his 65 acres of Christmas trees.

Merry Christmas Mr. Goodman!

My tree this year is a cross-pollinated white and blue spruce, very pretty but smaller than I usually buy.  Once every three or four years I miscalculate the height of the trees in the field and bring home a specimen that’s a little too small.  Oh well, I’ll correct my mistake with boxes of colored lights and ornaments.   I’ll post a photo tomorrow.

I hope you are enjoying these early days of the Holiday season.  The tree in Clinton Square is lit and beautiful.  Soon the city Menorah will shine proud and bright in Hanover Square.   Whatever the observance, this darkest period on the calender gets filled with light.

Tagged as: Christmas, goodman's trees, Phoenix