Feast your eyes on this oh, so tasteful styrofoam Christmas tree I found in 1995 at a north-end (Seattle, WA) thrift shop when I was out and about, spending big-time cash with my late wife, Sally Jo Davis. I was more than willing to pay the 79 cents it was going for.
I can imagine this being lovingly hand-crafted by a very old person in a church basement or senior center recreation room. Or, if you want to go in the opposite direction, maybe it was made by a five year old! What I am saying is this: someone would have to be in his or her first or second childhood to make this thing. — I just somehow get the feeling it was made by a senior. Which is appropriate, because I live in a senior building, and I proudly display it in same.
This beauty is trimmed with bric-a-brac; it’s decorated with colorful, shiny beads, pins, some kind of gauzy fabric, and geegaws. It’s crowned with two stars made of some kind of foil-like material. — I can’t be more specific. I’m not a crafter. I’m a collector. I assume the tree was made sometime around the 1960’s or 1970’s. It definitely looks like it came from that era. It has somehow survived the ravages of time, and taste.
I guess I like the tree because it’s such an underdog. If it was able to come to life, I think it would be ashamed to learn that it was on sale for 79 cents. But I hope it would feel better knowing that someone like me, who can appreciate it, rescued it from the trash bin.
I moved into a small apartment in my senior citizen’s building a few years ago. At first, I tried getting involved in the social activities which go on around here. That was before I found out that everyone here except me is either crazy, senile or alcoholic. Now I stick to myself. (I do have one friend here, named Betty, with whom I pulled off the infamous Senior Citizen Cat Caper I previously blogged about.)
Anyhoo: It was my first Christmas here. In an attempt to add a little holiday cheer to our environs, I hung the tree in the building’s community room. I thought it would be a nice gesture to share it with my neighbors. However, a day later, when I checked to see if it was still hanging on the wall, I found that my beloved tree was gone. Four old ladies happened to be in the room, playing their regular Tuesday night game of cards. I turned to them and said, “Hey, I hung a little Christmas tree on the wall for everyone, and it’s gone!” One of the ladies, Virginia, said, “Well, someone didn’t like it all that much”. On a hunch, I looked in the little storage closet which is adjacent to the community room, and there was my tree, sitting on a shelf.
I grabbed my treasure, took it upstairs, and hung it outside my unit, on my front door. And every Christmas, I put it back on my door. I dare anyone to take it off my door. Merry Christmas.