O, Tannenbaum

On Saturday The Missus and I went to get our Christmas tree. In most American homes this time of year, that's a fairly standard and unremarkable activity in and of itself. For us however, it was rife with some fairly exciting firsts.

For starters, this will be our first Christmas together in the City. Every year previous, we've spent the holiday separate from each other and with our respective families in Omaha and Denver. This will be the first Christmas morning in our nine years together in which we wake up in the same bed. So, we're psyched about that.

As a result of being together in the same state this yuletide season, we decided it would not only be appropriate but, dare I say, enjoyable to go and pick out a Christmas tree together. To go purchase all the tree stuff and then go get the tree itself, which we imagined ourselves dragging When Harry Met Sally-style down the street in a charming shared gesture of New York Cristmastude. And apart from the fact that we were purchasing the tree in Queens and dragging it to our 1986 Volvo station wagon, that was basically the picture. But what makes all of this truly special beyond the obvious reasons is the fact that this tree - this lovely, skinny, 6 foot Frasier Fir - is my first ever REAL CHRISTMAS TREE.

You see, the tree I've spent my Christmases with since birth is an artificial tree. An artificial tree that is older than I am and has definitely not held up as well. If this tree were a woman, she'd be sitting at the end of a darkly lit bar, wearing a muumuu, smoking Benson & Hedges and offering sexual favors in return for a sandwich and a place to take a hot shower. You would think that at some point between 1970 and now, my mother would have considered replacing this tree with either a real tree or at least a newer, less beat-to-shit artificial tree. But when I really think about it, the truth is if she ever were to get rid of that tree, I'd be wrecked. It remains one of the few holiday constants that I can still rely on to sensorally bring me right back to the Christmases of my youth. (Right up there with the Charlie Brown and Rudolph animated specials on TV.) And I loved those Christmases.

That said, there was something inherently exciting about going to pick out my first ever actual, real deal, "looks-and-smells-like-a-tree-because-it-is-a-tree" tree. And it also felt good to be doing my part to help control the world's burgeoning fir population. We bought a few tasteful but nondescript ornaments from Target and then went to Michael's and picked up some blank wooden shapes that we could paint ourselves. We had Neil & Katie over, played my own hand-picked, 3-volume set of Christmas mixes and had a little ornament-painting party. We even MacGuyvered together our own monogrammed tree-topper with a couple wooden letters, some superglue, craft paint and floral wire. Despite some logistical difficulties and a couple brief appearances by my storied lack of patience, we had a great time.

Below are the results of our efforts. A tangible celebration of Christmas firsts. And a tip of the hat to traditions old and new...

Behold the "Christmas Monkey"