We could use a fresh cut
“Do you have time to get the Christmas tree with me?” Sue asked. “Yes, I have time,” I said. If I didn’t have time, I should have time. If I don’t have time, I should make time.
It feels early for a tree but it always feels early. It seems as if there ought to be a spacer between Thanksgiving and Christmas, sort of a chronological washer, the kind you’d put between a screw and a nut to ease the friction.
However, there isn’t and because there isn’t, the only thing wedged between the screw and the nut is us.
“You know there is a Christmas tree shortage,” she said.
That sounds right. The only thing there isn’t a shortage of this year are surprises, misery and more misery, some blithely referred to as silver linings.
We drove to the Christmas tree lot by the old Mervyns. Funny how certain places will always be known by the names of stores that have been gone for 20 years.
You can’t work at a Christmas tree lot unless you have a beard. A beard, a plaid shirt and a camp chair. He had all three but what he didn’t have were many Christmas trees. “Let me know if I can help,” he said. Yes, you can help. You can walk into the forest behind Mervyns and bring back an armful of trees. Not only will we wait, but I’ll keep your camp chair warm.
The lot was empty, save a few alpine stragglers. These trees looked like they had been in a Christmas tree war with bigger and stronger trees and lost. Some were crooked, others lacked limbs and a few were headless.
“We’re getting more on Thursday,” he said. “You may want to come back.”
Thursday was a big day in retail. That’s when the toilet paper was coming in at Costco. If you see a semi on Thursday steaming down the highway, odds are it’s either filled with toilet paper or Christmas trees. Either one would merit following.
“When do you think you might get them?” Sue asked.
“Sometimes we get them in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon and occasionally in the evening,”
That about covers it. It sounded like the riddle of the Sphinx recast as the mystery of the Christmas tree arrival.
We headed for White Forest Nursery, having been told they had ordered and received their trees and still had a good selection. We headed east on 58. Even though some people may think White Forest is way out in the puckerbrush, the puckerbrush is only 15 minutes away in Bakersfield.
White Forest was shoulder-deep in trees. After we chose one, our helper asked if we wanted a fresh cut on the trunk. A fresh cut sounded good, like something many of us could profit from. A fresh cut might be just the ticket in 2021.
Two men slid the tree in the back of the Jeep. The tree used to get strapped to the top. We’re shrinking and so are our Christmas trees. Five years from now, we can fit our tree in the cupholder.
The car smelled good. Smelled like the forest, the season and Christmases past. It may be early but not too early for that.
Herb Benham is a columnist for The Bakersfield Californian and can be reached at hbenham@ bakersfield.com or 661-395-7279.