To Chop or not to Chop. . .

It’s happened! Someone has said something so stupid, so out of touch with reality, that it shocked me into silence. But now I have regained my voice!

It all started when I  shared with this particular person my family’s tradition of cutting down our Christmas tree. I gotta tell you, I have no qualms about having a real tree. Trees can be replenished; replanted. . . but I don’t want to get into that right now.

Let’s dwell instead on the reply I received to tradition–

“I don’t believe in murdering innocent trees.” That’s what the person told me. Then the speaker of these words of wisdom gave me a knowing smile that said, “A-hah! I’ve silenced you with my profound wisdom; You Tree Murderer!”

Truth be known, she silenced me, not with her words of wisdom, but with her profound silliness. 

The only way I get through conversations with a person like this is to envision a squirrel in their head, running around in one of those wheels; telling them what to say. A really nutty squirrel at that. Try using this technique. It’s a lot of fun. Makes the conversation almost tolerable.

Since the time I was accused of being a murderer, I’ve come up with a few replies. See what you think.

1. The trees I cut down aren’t innocent trees. They’re condemned to death row for acts of aggression against humankind. ie- They’ve thrown themselves in front of skiers, or crashed into unsuspecting cars during wind storms. I am merely serving as executioner.

2. I only cut down those trees who’ve chosen to die. They suffer from some dread disease, and I am assisting them in their suicide; their passage to the forest in the great beyond. Death with Dignity!

3. I’m rescuing these trees from the cold, bleakness of winter. I bring them into my home; give them a place of honor in my living room; adorn them with ornaments! Hey! It’s better than having birds and chipmunks pooping in their branches.

4. Don’t judge me! I am Pro-Choice! The right to cut or not to cut. It’s my Christmas. Don’t you dare tell me what to do with it.

As I was thinking of these witty comebacks (at least I think they’re witty), a terrible thought came to mind. . . Maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way. Is it possible, in some sick way, I enjoy cutting down these noble pines? Is it possible that it’s not about Christmas at all?

Am I a Serial Chopper? Do I lust after the smell of fresh sap oozing from an open wound; to see my fallen victim, lying before me? O woe is me! I long to run through the forest; the Jack the Ripper of the woods; axe swinging carelessly, defoliating the entire planet for my perverse pleasure. Is this possible????

Nope. I don’t think so. I’m sticking with my original conclusion– The answer the person gave me was one of the silliest comments ever made.

Merry Christmas. Save a tree! Hang lights on the Politically Kookie instead.