by Mickey Z.
 On my way to the elevated subway station today, I caught sight of my
neighborhood's most clearcut (pun very much intended) sign that Santa season
is fully upon us: Christmas tree lots. I detect the familiar faces of the
folks‹positioned, as always, in front of Rite Aid‹hawking pines and firs
long since separated from their roots. According to the National Christmas
Tree Association, approximately 30-35 million "real" Christmas trees are
sold in the U.S. every year and roughly 100,000 people are employed in the
Christmas tree industry.
"As soon as the turkey's in the Tupperware, thoughts turn to getting ready
for Christmas," begins one recent newspaper story. "And what says Christmas
more than the tree?" Yep, as Thanksgiving is to the turkeys, Christmas is to
evergreen. It almost seems to go unnoticed that the enduring symbols of
winter's two most celebrated holidays are the annual targets of human
killing sprees. You can sing "O Christmas Tree" until you go hoarse, but
that tree you just bought is dying before your eyes.
Ninety-eight percent of all American Christmas trees are grown on the more
than 21,000 Christmas tree farms; these farms eat up about 450,000 acres of
land. It takes about 7-10 years for a Christmas tree to mature, and for
every harvested tree, 2-3 seedlings are planted. Think of it like factory
farming for firs.
Retail tree lots like the one I passed today are a New York City tradition
that dates back to 1851. Thirty years after that, an assistant of Thomas
Edison's conjured up the prescient notion of hanging electric lights on
Christmas trees. By 1890, such lights were being mass-produced and tree
lightings would eventually become the ceremony of choice for those who don't
mind triple-digit electricity bills.
Another durable American tradition will eventually mark the unofficial end
to all holiday spirit. I'm speaking, of course, about the sight of discarded
trees lying near the garbage cans on the sidewalk. Just a few weeks earlier,
those trees were leaning almost upright with price tags dangling from their
shiny branches. Now they lie horizontal...a few tenacious strands of tinsel
clinging to the razor-sharp needles. Like plastic forks, paper plates,
gnawed turkey bones, and New York's growing homeless population, we perceive
Christmas trees as disposable; they ultimately become someone else's
problem.
Before anyone touts the widespread recycling of post-holiday trees, let's
recap, shall we? Some 450,000 acres of land are set aside to plant and grow
trees destined to be cut down and sold for about ten days' use before being
unceremoniously tossed out onto the pavement and we're supposed applaud the
time and money our city uses to deal with the subsequent-and
predictable-epidemic of dead trees.
The blinking lights go back in the hallway closet and the ornaments get
stored under the bed in the guest room long before January's electric and
credit card bills arrive. This year's Christmas tree, however, will be
history. No longer will it hide brightly wrapped boxes of consumer
electronics or display an impaled blonde angel at its highest point. Planted
and fattened solely for the kill, that doomed tree will probably serve as a
novel target for local dogs on the stroll.
This Christmas, say no to fir...
Mickey Z. can be found on the Web at http://www.mickeyz.net.
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