Holiday Guide
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then Cheekwood should be blushing. Many of us here at the Scene remember with fondness Cheekwood’s Trees of Christmas, an annual display of evergreens themed with everything from the 12 Days of Christmas to the nations of the world. This year, the theme of the exhibit—now ecumenically dubbed the Festival of the Holidays—is “Music’s in the Air,” and we’re looking forward to a creative display of musical instruments, songbirds and Sugar Plum Fairies.
Meanwhile, we’ve dreamed up our own series of holiday trees, decorated with the visions that dance through Scene writers’ heads—everything from conservation overlays and teen magazines to civil liberties and maternal guilt. While our trees exist only on the printed page, we hope you find our decorations—a little humor and a little poetry, twinkle lights of insight and a shining star of irony—just as festive, in their own way. So enjoy browsing our tree lot, and make some time this season to visit the Festival of the Holidays and other family activities at Cheekwood, Nov. 25 through Dec. 31.
Conservation Zoning Overlay Tree: A Holiday Hypocrisy
Behold the festive hypocrisy of the conservation zoning overlay tree, approved by a majority of neighbors and topped by a councilman with a bough of pine up his skirt. A CZO tree may be adorned only with architectural elements consistent with the approved time period—nothing after 1945. All mangers, churches, snow-covered cabins and Santa’s workshops must meet standards set by the Metro Historic Zoning Commission, with faux-Tudor quaintness preferred.
If your tree predates World War II, you may not change it. Sorry that it is ugly and too small, but all neighborhood elves know that nothing better ever came along after Japan surrendered. You must stick with the pine you’ve got. No sprucing up. You will be fined otherwise.
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Your neighbors, who recently lopped off the top of their bungalow tree and added more boughs to create a lovely foursquare, do not trust you to do the same. Nor may you enclose your porch, as your other neighbors recently did—right before they voted, “Yes, overlay.”
Traditional glass balls are allowed—but red only. Bells, so long as they meet the dictates of good taste as defined by your neighbors, may hang on every third limb. No cartoon character conceived after VE Day may appear on the CZO tree. If your child attended kindergarten after 1945, his handmade ornaments are, sadly, verboten. As for popcorn, sorry, the neighbors think it’s tacky. Cranberries? No. They are pretentious.
Twinkle lights, so long as they do not outshine the twinkle lights of your neighbors, may festoon the tree. But, for the love of all that is aesthetically uniform, they may not blink! The overlay committee unanimously agrees that blinking is not consistent with the look of the neighborhood. This is, after all, an effort to protect you from things that don’t belong. Like flocked trees. And property rights.
The CZO tree committee and the MHZC reserve the right to review all angles of the tree visible from the road. Anything outside public sight lines is left to the homeowner’s discretion. Feel free to hang all the silver icicles, SpongeBobs and blinking pink flamingo lights you want. Just don’t expect to be invited on the home tour. —Carrington Fox
Civil Libertarian Tree: A Prickly Pine
The first dilemma for a civil libertarian tree is location. If there’s to be any religious imagery, then public property is out of the question, unless of course it’s going to be accompanied by a Hanukkah bush, a Kwanzaa shrub, and a full-size likeness of Sandra Day O’Connor.
As to the type of tree: some will be tempted by the fake ones you have to assemble following careful directions. Certainly strict construction is one way to go, but a living (or recently living) specimen is better attuned to adapting the holiday’s original intent to changing modern circumstances.
Once you’ve opted for a real tree, do you go live or cut? Some traditionalists are pro-life on this issue, but the cultivated civil libertarian will defer to one’s right to choose. The selection of species carries its own complications: it’s risky to go with something prickly you need long sleeves to handle, like a Scotch pine. Much better to select a Fraser fir or white spruce, preserving the tree trimmer’s right to bare arms.
Lights are optional, but should be chosen with care. Those uber-cheapos sold for a dollar a box carry the risk of electrocution—a cruel and unusual punishment for the holiday celebrant, if ever there was one.
Ornamentation on the civil libertarian tree knows no boundaries—its branches are a free-speech zone requiring no permits and tolerating no censors. Obscene ornaments are fine—we’ll know them when we see them—but tucking them inside the foliage will limit puritanical tree-gazers’ probable cause to search for and seize them.
Religious symbolism at the top of a tree is a common gambit, but the civil libertarian should instead go citrus—specifically a whole lemon—symbolic of the Supreme Court’s “Lemon Test” (developed in Lemon vs. Kurtzman in 1971) to rule out church-state entanglement. Many conservatives want a right-moving court to abandon the test, so a knife sticking out of your tree-topping lemon might strike just the right note of judicial uncertainty. (Photo of Scalia between knife and lemon optional.)
Having the gang over for tree-trimming? Keep in mind that librarians and bookstore employees popping in for holiday cheer will kick-start Section 215 of the Patriot Act, making your tree-based expression fair game for FBI inquiry. Be prepared to detain your guests for an indefinite period of time, and whatever you do, don’t let them talk to a lawyer.
It should be clear by now that a tree like this has to be intelligently designed, but the prudent civil libertarian is on much safer ground saying it should evolve from careful planning. —Bruce Barry
Evergreen Tree: A Fa-La-La-La Folly
“’Twas the night before Christmas, not a face to be seen,
’Cause no one was guarding the old Evergreen.
A sign had been placed on the trunk of the tree,
Reading “Please, Do Not Touch” for any eye to see.
An inspector from Codes had posted the sign,
After lawyers with Metro state statutes did mine.
Their goal was to try to save tree or move it.
The inspector took photos of the sign just to prove it.
The cedar was old, more than 200 years,
But its owners would lose it without shedding tears.
Misters Moore and Oakley wanted it dead,
’Cause visions of Home Depot dollars danced in their heads.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
No defenders were there to see what was the matter.
Bulldozers appeared, led by Mr. Tom White,
To take the tree down ’fore the moon rose that night.
White flourished a permit to remove the tree’s traces,
Granted by Sonny West, a friend in high places.
The sun was just setting when the tree finally fell,
With a groan and a shudder the final death knell.
Back and forth went the bulldozers, grinding it down,
’Til a toothpick or two was all to be found.
Then White sprang to his car, to his team gave a shout,
And away they all flew, ’fore they were found out.
But some heard White exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, we’ve mulched history tonight!” —Christine Kreyling
Politics Tree: Decorated Without Decorum
The fact that I would sully a perfectly good Christmas tree with the ugly, selfish and depressing world of politics may explain why I’m not invited to many parties. But I’ll press on anyway. First of all, the tree itself will have to be artificial, because so much of American politics is exactly that. As for the trimmings, indictments of public officials on both the state and federal levels have been a major theme this year. These show no sign of dissipating, so the tree will begin with ornaments representing those already in the dock—Tom Delay, “Scooter” Libby, the Tennessee Waltz crowd and so on. Then, as more politicians get nailed, more ornaments will be added. Think of it as a sort of indictment advent calendar for the political class. I will wrap a red-white-and-blue ribbon around the tree for my garland and place upon it a little sleigh with a George W. Bush figurine sitting inside (complete with Santa cap). Each day the sleigh will slide up or down the garland in accordance with the latest presidential approval ratings. The way things are going, Santa Bush may well have fallen off the tree completely come Christmas, so I’ll definitely need to make some kind of contingency plan. There will be just two colors for the lights: red for the Republicans and blue for the Democrats. These colors will alternate depending upon the party of the senatorial candidate who last published a press release showing how he or she is ahead in the latest polls and is the clear choice to beat Bob Corker, Harold Ford Jr., Ed Bryant or whomever. A picture of Phil Bredesen will serve as my tree topper. The governor puts such a high premium on appearing above it all anyway. I’ll attach Phil’s photo to the tree with super glue, since he’s a lock to stay in office for another four years. As for the presents under the tree? Envelopes with checks, of course, all from some fly-by-night concern known only as eCycle. Plus some rolls of nickels specially reserved for House Speaker Pro Tem Lois DeBerry to take on her next trip to Tunica. You know, just for being the terrific public servant we all know she is. —Roger Abramson
Mommy Guilt Tree: A Gift to Yourself
Your neighbor has three Christmas trees at her house: one in the living room, sparkling with heirloom ornaments; one in the playroom, entirely hung with homemade salt-dough Santas; and one in the front yard, decked out in pinecones smeared with peanut butter and birdseed—all in place the day after Thanksgiving because, as your neighbor says, “I want to have time to enjoy my children this holiday.” You, on the other hand, are the kind of mom who laughs a little too loudly during It’s a Wonderful Life when Jimmy Stewart demands, “Why did we have to have all these kids?” What you need is an extra tree of your own, this one a pyramid of books, stacked up beside your bed, to consult after your neighbor has caroled her way off to mommy hell:
Perfect Madness: Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety by Judith Warner (Riverhead Books, $23.95). Sent donut holes to the classroom party instead of homemade Christmas cupcakes with smiling lollipop Santas on top? Don’t worry, says Warner—it’s not that you’re not a bad mom; it’s that the mothers who spend hours on cupcakes for first-graders are crazy. Here’s how to avoid being driven mad by a culture that’s made parent a verb and motherhood a competitive sport.
The Three-Martini Playdate: A Practical Guide to Happy Parenting by Christie Mellor (Chronicle Books, $12.9 5). With chapter titles like “Saying No to Your Child: It’s a Kick!” and “Child Labor: Not Just for the Third World!” Mellor’s guidebook promises to liberate parents from abject servitude. Really, there’s nothing wrong with teaching kids the art of vacuuming, or enlisting them to pour martinis at your parties—a task which Mellor calls “a practical exercise in hand-eye coordination.”
The Bad Mother’s Handbook by Kate Long (Ballantine, $21.95). This disarming British novel bears some resemblance to Bridget Jones’s Diary, if Bridget had gotten knocked up at 17 and was herself the result of an unplanned teen pregnancy. For Long, parenthood is about making do and muddling through—and most of the time nobody gets permanently screwed up in the process.
Confessions of a Slacker Mom by Muffy Mead-Ferro (DaCapo, $12.95). This book argues, among other obvious things too frequently forgotten today, that the occasional latte during pregnancy is not the gestational equivalent of crack cocaine. It’s impossible not to love a book that begins, “ ‘Like I need a smart baby,’ I muttered, when hearing about the latest device for stimulating her intellect in-vitro.”
Mary Poppins by P.L. Travers (Odyssey Classics, $6). The angel atop any guilty-mom tree, Mary Poppins is all the proof you need that kids can turn out just fine, even in the care of a woman with no child-care license and limited respect for the laws of gravity. —Margaret Renkl
Teen Magazine Tree: Festive! Fresh-faced! Fun!
Any good tree begins with a string of lights, wrapped around the inner branches to give it that extra sparkle. Some prefer white lights, others color. I will use teen magazine quizzes. What type of girlfriend are you? Answer all A’s and you are the sporty girlfriend who goes camping and doesn’t shave. All B’s, and you probably dot the letter “I” with little hearts. All C’s and you’re the mentally unstable basket case his friends keep telling him to dump. Wait, did I say that out loud? I mean, you’re really pretty.
I will need more than one magazine quiz, of course. What is your ideal type of man? How outgoing are you? Should you make the first move? Does he like you? Why did he dump you? Do you think maybe it’s because you took too many quizzes and then tried to tell him about your answers?
Traditionally, step two is to hang the glass balls, giving balance and structure to the overall ornamentation. On the Teen Mag Tree, I will hang feature articles that teach young women the important things in life: beauty, fashion and boys. Teen pregnancy horror stories are a holiday favorite, and so are first-person accounts of eating disorders, placed beside photographs of sleek and slender fashion models. This meaningful copy will provide a backdrop for the exciting ornaments I want to show off, like an interview with Lindsay Lohan in which she states that, despite her wealth and fame, she’s still just a normal teenager. Her candor will provide much-needed perspective when I don’t get what I want for Christmas. I mean, how do you think she felt when she got a pink Fendi bag instead of the white one?
For festive flair, I’ll hang an Abercrombie jean miniskirt—just high enough to draw attention upward. A line of overpriced peppermint lip balms and an Usher CD will make me cooler than the hippest girl in any ninth-grade biology class. A T-shirt with an inappropriate saying will push my popularity over the edge. I’m thinking, “Everything’s Dirtier in the South,” available in any teen magazine. I’ll use Mom’s scissors to cut all ornaments from the pages, and I’ll make collages whenever possible. Finally, I’ll top my tree with a fold-out poster of Ashton Kutcher. Happy Holidays, Miss Teen America, and remember: apply eyeliner to the outside of your eyelid, not the inside, for the ultimate doe-eyed look. —Claire Suddath
Flea Market Tree: A Jolly State of Mind
Understand I’m in a motley band of young graduated folk
Who hang cans of beer on a Christmas tree that reeks of cigarette smoke.
No, we can’t afford a real tree after moving to Nashville on the fly,
So we hope this little fire hazard doesn’t blow our house sky high.
You see, we’re poor as dirt and starving, without the luxury
Of holly-jolly Christmas under a perfect tree.
Our tree is pink and plastic, and its angel is a Saint—
They call her Paulie Girl—but nice she sure as hell ain’t.
The branches will poke your eyes out, the needles will make you bleed,
But beneath you’ll find the key to fix your every need.
Gentleman Jack, Tanqueray and Cutty line the trunk,
And if you’re still not satisfied, we’ll smack you, ’cause we’re drunk.
The tree lights blink like weary eyes and set the house aglow,
And though you’d never think it, it’s a helluva Christmas show.
Sparks ignite from everywhere and bounce off ceiling and floor
Causing lamps to flicker and flake and friends to run for the door.
And when the show is over, and all are a little less tense,
Everyone toasts to the flea market tree we bought for 25 cents.
There we stand and talk in stride about what the season means
As we listen to holiday classics like “Christmas in Hollis Queens.”
Yeah, we agree our tree is lame, but we’re thankful to all be here
To count our every blessing and look toward a happy new year. —Dave Rudolph
Homeland Security Tree: A Festival of Lights
The Department of Homeland Security this week launched its patented Anti-Terrorism Holiday Tree designed to help Americans become more vigilant in their communities and more prepared in case disaster strikes at home. The basic package ($49.99 at mass-market retailers) includes a 9-foot fiber-optic tree armature that collapses into a lightweight carrying case. Each festive structure features light settings in green, blue, yellow, orange and red, and comes with a collection of Most-Wanted Terrorist ornaments, featuring Osama bin Laden as the The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Additionally, each tree is equipped with a festive tree skirt that doubles as emergency blanket and a state-of-the-art surveillance camera embedded in the trunk to allow the FBI to monitor your home for suspicious activities, such as donning a heavy red coat, sporting an oversized silver beard or tinkering late at night in a secluded “workshop.” Each package comes with your choice of tree topper, including a Michael Chertoff elf, a large haloed “W,” Rummy Scrooge or a secret service officer equipped with a holly earpiece. For $9.99, the package may be upgraded to include duct tape, a 50,000-volt taser gun and a signed copy of Staying the Course, President Bush’s inspirational disaster-preparedness booklet-on-tape. Act now and you will receive a commemorative Saddam-in-the-Spider-Hole ornament along with copies of the Ace of Spades’ latest indictments, available while supplies last. For more information, log onto www.terrortree.gov. —Erin G. Edwards