After we shaved the lamp legs decor this morning, Bow Tie o’ the Day and Tie o’ the Day told me it was time to break out the Chuck Brown Xmas trees. We have Chuck trees in three sizes, for placement in various locations throughout the house.
The middle tree– the smallest– is named The Pub Tree, because every Christmas season, I put it on the window ledge by “our” table at The Pub in Delta. (Note the football ornament on the tiny tree.) My Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless and I decorated festively around our tree, but the tree was always the centerpiece of whatever window scene we constructed. I miss The Pub, my SWWTRN, and I miss decorating “our” Pub window for holidays.
The tree with the HO’s in it (I loved writing that) plays the Chuck Brown theme song music. When it plays, I “dance” to the music the same way the characters in the Chuck tv specials dance– which means I move my head forward and back, over and over. Eventually I get a neck ache and the song gets annoying. After a couple of hours, the music box battery finally dies, so I can stop dancing. So then I take two aspirin, put on a neck brace, and make a mental note to never put a battery in the music box again.
Yeah, I know I could just push the OFF button on the tree’s music at any time before all the pain and annoyance begins. But then I wouldn’t have a dramatic (sort of) story to tell about how harrowing it is to head-dance to the Charlie Brown theme song for the duration of a battery’s life.
Doing such a thing is an example of doing something for the sole purpose of saying you did. Hint: Doing something for the sole purpose of saying you did is rarely a good reason to do it. Which is why the truth is that I hit the OFF button on the tree’s music after about thirty seconds, so there’s still a bigly amount of juice in the battery with which to regale visitors. I’m sure they’ll want to boogie along too. And I have plenty o’ aspirin, and a neck brace if anyone needs it.
HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 28 Bow ties. 74 Neckties.
To own three of the sad trees is almost a forest o’ sad trees—one might anticipate eeyore to step out from behind them.