Visualize Clark Griswold and his family in that scene from Christmas Vacation when they all go out to find the perfect Christmas tree. I actually lived that scene when I was about ten years old. Just exactly like that. Well, almost. My dad, my mom, and I bundled up and headed into the woods to find the perfect tree. For those of you who know where we lived, it was the woods just to the east of the teacherage where Wren Shaw kept his Brahman cows AND bulls. Yes bulls. (see below) Unlike Clark, my dad did remember to take his ax. It seemed we walked for miles. While my parents were looking for a tree, I was looking for a charging bull or two.
There is was. The perfect tree. It didn't glow, nor did angels from heaven sing when we spotted it, as in the movie, but it was the perfect tree. Not nearly as big and sans the squirrel.
The little evergreen sat in a corner of our tiny living room for several days before we started decorating it because it need to 'settle in' and become acquainted with its new surroundings. Our house smelled like a case of evergreen air freshener had exploded all over the place.
My job was to keep the metal stand that had three long screws twisted into the trunk full of water. This was a daily chore as the little tree was very thirsty.
Our strands of lights had bulbs on them the size of 'hicker-nuts.' (translation: hickory nuts) They were all different colors and they didn't blink. Stringing them on the tree was my dad's job. He was meticulous about hiding the wires and clipping the bulbs to the branches so they stood straight up like candles.
Flocking was the next step in transforming the tree into a piece of art. My mother bought boxes and boxes of Ivory Snow Flakes, and we used her electric mixer to magically create fluffy mounds of snow. It was impossible not to sample a little of the snow, thinking it would taste like sweet whipped cream. Every year I tasted it. Every year it tasted like Ivory soap.
The directions on the box said to use an attachment on the vacuum cleaner to spray the tree. We didn't have a vacuum cleaner, so the snow was slathered on every-single-branch by hand. Applying it this way made the tree look like it had been caught in a snowstorm. We had contests to see who could pile up the most snow on each branch, and each other.
The smell? Exquisite. A beautiful balance of sap and soap.
After the 'snow' dried, we added glass ornaments that had been carefully stored away all year in boxes with little cardboard dividers. If one of them dropped to the floral-patterned linoleum, it exploded into a gazillion tiny shards. I dropped my fair share. The first day, most of them hung on the bottom half of the tree. Later, my mom rearranged them so they were perfectly equidistant apart.
Next came the icicles full of static electricity. They stuck to everything but the tree. This decoration also called for a contest. We would each take an icicle, blow it through the air, and see if it would land somewhere on the tree. We started out being very careful to hang one icicle at a time but after a while we ended up throwing them in globs at the tree. Again, my mom would 'fix' that.
The tree topper was a frilly, aluminum star that lit up. It twinkled. It was always my job to plug it in, along with the strands of lights, into the one and only electrical outlet in the room. This usually resulted in blowing the breaker. This year was no different.
After my dad rectified the electrical situation, we stood back to admire our masterpiece.
It was at this point when my sneezing began. A sneeze here. A sneeze there. The sneezing continued one after another with me trying to catch my breath in between them.
Soon they were accompanied by little bouts of wheezing. Now I'm sneezing and wheezing. And coughing. Large red welts crept up my neck and inside both my arms. By the time we loaded up in the car to head to the emergency room, my eyes had begun to swell shut.
The small county hospital was only about ten miles into town, but it seemed like we drove for hours before pulling into the parking lot. My dad gathered me up in his arms and sprinted in the cold winter air through the emergency room doors. Luckily 'Doc Haddock' was there making his rounds. He treated me for an asthma attack and in less than an hour we were headed home. Coated in calamine lotion.
The next Christmas we spent hours poking aluminum branches into a silver pole with hundreds of holes. Each branch had a little pom-pom on its end. We had all new glass ornaments. The were red. The tree topper looked like three round ornaments stacked on top of each other with a spike on top. It seemed to lean one direction or another, never straight up.
There were no 'hicker-nut' lights. There was no Ivory soap snow. There were no icicles.
But, there was that color wheel. That was the best part. It was mesmerizing to sit in the dark, watching the world change from red to green to blue to yellow. Thanks to the Sears and Roebuck Catalog, our living room had taken on a futuristic look, almost evoking a space-age feel. The walls, the ceiling, and even the linoleum-covered floor dazzled from the brilliance of the shimmering silvery branches. That tree sparkled and glittered and changed colors for many years to come. Our tree was special.
Even though it has been over half-a-century since my parents and I whipped up snow in a bowl and blew icicles through the air, whenever there's a whiff of an evergreen tree or a bar of Ivory soap, my mind travels back in time, and I smile.
Then, I sneeze.
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Yes, the aluminum tree is sitting in our living room this year . . . Not yet decorated.
I'm just checking to see if you're paying attention.
Below are photos of Brahman bulls. The kind that lived next door.
Fireworks?
This is the aluminum tree I wrote about in the story.
These photos were taken about six years after we bought it and it's in a different house. My cousin, Randy, and I were decorating it with the same red ornaments
Yes, this is the same Cousin Randy who thought he could raise a better tasting watermelon than I could. Fooled him.
This is the Pushmataha Hopsital the way it looked back in the Fifties.
This is Dr. Haddox. He was everyone's hero in and around Antlers.
This was in the days of house calls.
Many people referred to him as "Doc Haddock."
