You see, my grandmother had a problem. She was a control junkie when it came to her Christmas Tree. No one could decorate it to suit her, and grandchildren were not allowed to touch her ornaments. When it came to the multi-colored lights that always outlined her wonderful two story house on Belvedere Road in West Palm Beach, just anyone would do as long as the lights were up in time for her to turn them on (all night, much to my grandfather’s chagrin) so we could watch her turn them off when we arrived at dawn after a twelve hour road trip from South Carolina.
Most Christmases, though, Nana would bring the boxes of ornaments down from the attic and put the lights on the tree. We would then be walking around the ornaments until a day or two after Christmas, when she would gently wrap the few she had hung, and would send Mae upstairs with the boxes. There they would be stored in the attic. She would bring them down in mid-December the following year, put them on the sofa in the Florida Room, and there they would sit until my mother would put them up under the tree with the rest of the gifts.
So right now I have a Nana Tree. I hired one of my best friends' 15 year old daughter to light the tree for me. This is not as simple as it seems. I am a Professional Christmas Tree Decorator, i.e., I am a perfect bitch about the tree. Okay, I’ve become my grandmother.
Rewind
I will admit I am old enough to remember the first artificial trees, now “valuable” antiques right up there with plastic pink flamingos. When the little silver contraptions were first invented they were too fragile and flammable for lights, so progressive senior citizens in South Florida were buying floodlights that rested on the floor. Around them was the epitome of science fiction-tacky - a rotating multi colored film. Okay, we’re talking Austin Powers mod here!
My very tasteful mother would have nothing to do with those tacky silver trees, but a few years later a ‘natural’ looking tree that was nearly 8 feet tall and close to six feet wide at the base hit the market. I remember the long drive, at least sixty miles from Fair Play to the Easley side of Greenville, to purchase one. It was quite expensive, even then. If I remember correctly it was nearly $300 (and Nixon was still President). The amber lights had to be about $20 a box. She bought at least 15 boxes of those. (Oh, keep this quiet. I don’t think she ever told my father how much it cost.)
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