Scrooge’s Christmas tree is up

Okay, it’s done. Scrooge’s Christmas tree is up. You’ll also notice that I’m saying the name of the holiday, now that Thanksgiving is over.

Many things remain the same. Nichol family tradition holds that the alpha male sets the tree up and strings the lights. Since I’m the only male, I get that designation by default. After that, the women take over the decorating, along with the kids, if any. We have one woman, so Alice goes to town.

The lights are easier now. Up until year before last, I think it was, I had large bulbs that had to be screwed in individually (yep, they were that old, but not so old that when one went out they all did; I remember those as a kid). I had to lay out the wire and screw them in and then plug them in to see if they worked. And then, of course, they had to be individually unscrewed after Christmas.

Now I have mini lights, all wound on a stick, and all I have to do is walk round and round the tree, unrolling the lights. After Christmas, I just roll them up again. Well, I do have some bubble lights which take a little more time. But they were my favorite when I was a kid so I put up with it. The star is new, also, because the old one, more than 40 years old, finally gave up the ghost.

Why, some may ask, does a Scroogy guy like me have a Christmas tree in the first place? Well, it has a lot to do with being married to Alice, who loves Christmas. She has been known to send Christmas cards in July.

And as I state every year, and want people to understand, I don’t hate everything about Christmas. Mainly I’m against all the things that make a person lean against the door facing on the night of Dec. 25 and say, “Thank goodness it’s over.” No joy, no afterglow. Just relief. Many of us work ourselves into such a frenzy that there’s no place to go but down. I’m against trying to do too much.

There is no cat this year. We’ve never had a cat tear down a tree, but we’ve had some who had a profound effect. The best example goes back to when we had our first cat, known as The Beast. She would not climb the tree, but she would pull down low hanging tinsel and eat it. She always gave it back to us, like little silver hairballs, but we didn’t want them.

Anyway, The Beast was the reason we stopped using tinsel, and after we lost her we never went back to using the stuff. Critter and Varmint were fairly decent when it came to the tree, except for wanting to play with the low ornaments, especially ones that dangled. Never broke one as far as I can remember. And Boo was exemplary. She would simply claim a spot under the tree and glare at me if I took her picture.

The tree is not the only decoration. Alice has her “Joy” and “Noel” on the door. And I have my “Bah Humbug” mobile hanging over my work station. There are a couple of other things which may find their way onto the walls or doors.

By the way, I did this last year, and I think I’ll do it again, as my Scroogy offering to the season. At the end of each column, from now until Christmas, I will include a favorite quote about the season, usually from someone pretty well known.

•••••

A substance called tryptophan gets a lot of bad press around this time of year, because turkey has some of it, and therefore it is blamed when people nap out after Thanksgiving dinner.

Not so, say a lot of experts. Actually, they say there isn’t enough tryptophan in turkey to make that happen. On TV, they said the sleepiness is probably caused by not getting enough sleep the night before, or perhaps by imbibing some alcohol.

Shucks, I know the reason, and it doesn’t have anything to do with lack of sleep or alcohol. It has everything to do with overeating. People do, typically, overeat on Thanksgiving. And an overly full tummy sends a message to the brain that things need to slow down a bit. Nap time.

I know, because I had plenty of sleep the night before Thanksgiving, and I wasn’t drinking alcohol (I’m not a teetotaler, but the Baby Sister doesn’t serve it and I had to drive anyway).

But I definitely needed a nap.

•••••

Okay, as promised, here is my first Christmas quote:

“I stopped believing in Santa Claus when my mother took me to see him in a department store, and he asked for my autograph.”

Shirley Temple

(EDITOR’S NOTE: David Nichol is a freelance writer who retired from the Times-Herald. He can be contacted at nicholdb@cablelynx.com.)