Faux Ho Ho
Are Fake Trees Cheating?
Which is how I came to be staring, as I type this, at a gargantuan Madison Pine Tree (note: nature offers no such tree) with 700 garish lights the color of Dance Fever's migraine-inducing dance floor. And get this: The thing rotates on its stand. It's a motorized monument to the tawdry spectacle that is Christmas.
But I'll say this about hauling home my first faux fir: It was not hassle-free.
Catching the tail-end of a brief sale, we rushed to the store for a bargain bush, only to find it was out of stock. The second store was out, too, but agreed to sell us the floor model: boxless, without replacement bulbs or fuses, and stringed with icky cotton snow. Sigh. Fine.
Now instead of vacuuming up real pine needles, I'm sweeping up fake ones. Along with creepy clumps of faux snow. And I have a feeling I will spend the rest of my life obsessively bending and separating the 2,487 branch tips to fill any holes that might otherwise make the tree appear, well, lifelike.
Because this season, my schedule, my budget, and my diet won't be balanced. But my damn tree will.
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