Electric Socks And Christmas Trees

Christmas Tree Horror Tale

Before I became the curator of the Grassy Knoll Institute, one of my odd jobs was selling "Live" Christmas trees. (I don't know why thy called them "Live" since their trunks were all unceremoniously lopped off and the tree tossed into a truck. At that point, the tree was dead)

Anyway, I believe it was the winter of 1986 or 87 and I found myself volunteered (Victim) from corporate to help Bobby and Mac sell three thousand fresh cut Christmas trees on route 224 in Boardman. Back then, there were still open lots on 224 (The busiest highway in Boardman) with green fields. And of course it was Fucking freezing out with about a foot of snow on the ground. (Typical Boardman, Ohio Winter climate)

Zero Zone Suit

I had one day to prepare for the hazards of working outside in cold conditions. I dug out my zero zone suit, (A very warm coverall that zipped up) my insulated boots, and thick electric socks. (Yes, electric socks, batteries sent a current into a mesh weave through the sock keeping them warm)

Being the good soldier I arrived on time for my shift. It was late afternoon, and I knew that I would be stuck in a freezing cold field with dead Christmas trees lying around so I stopped at Arby's for dinner. I pulled in the tree lot and parked my Jeep and jumped out.

Welcome to my Christmas tree universe. An open field, hundreds of Christmas trees scattered on the ground still in their protective wrapping, cheesy lights and pennants, plus a white step van that had to be a hundred years old. This is where I would spend the next 6 hours or so.

I opened the sliding door to the step van letting the blizzard in that was raging outside. Looking inside I found Bobby and Mac huddled around a pot bellied stove. They looked like two hobo's on the side of railroad tracks cooking pork and beans. And yes, they were cooking baked beans in the pot.

Bobby looked up, hunger and cold in his eyes, noticed my Arby's roast beef sandwiches, then looked back at the beans in the pot. At that moment, I feared for my life. (It was like Thunderdome now. Two men enter, one man leaves. The rules are, there ain't no rules) I quickly ate my sandwiches as I made nonsense chit chat. Mac didn't move. He just huddled around the stove that was giving off the only heat in a quarter square mile radius.

Bob and Mac then showed me the ropes. Reluctantly we left the step van to brave the cold weather. They marched me around the lot, (Universe) showing me the rope spool, (To tie down the trees we sold to the cars of the customers) the Christmas tree stands that went with the trees, and of course rows and rows of neatly stacked Christmas trees.

Each tree had a colored tag with a price on it according to size and type of tree. Type of tree? WTF was that? Apparently there were many different varieties. There were Blue Spruce, Douglas Fir, White Pine, Scotch Pine, Fraser Fir, Balsam, Noble, and Grand Fir. I was under the impression they were all just green pine trees. (Who knew?) The tour was over and Bob and Mac raced back to the shelter of the step van and the pot bellied stove.

As fate would have it, I didn't sell a single tree that day. Nor the next. Or the next. Bob and Mac sold a few here and there but not me. I did help Mac strap and tie a few trees to the roof of customers cars. One fell off before he got off the lot.

At the end of the day Bob said his feet were freezing and couldn't get them warm standing out in the snow all day. I didn't have the heart to tell him about my electric socks.

Merry Christmas! And buy an artificial tree this year.

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LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL