Seems we were just sighing the relief that came with hurling last year’s Christmas tree onto the environmentally responsible municipal compost pile, and here we are, a year wiser, but not necessarily less neurotic. May we all excel at Feats of Strength and be kind with the Airing of Grievances.
1) Trees of great importance
While the vast majority of White House Christmas trees (or holiday/seasonal/nondenominational/ attempted apolitical trees) hail from the eastern end of the United States, a tree farm in Elma, Washington, has the distinction of being the only place in the western U.S. to send trees to the White House in recent history. The Hedlund Christmas tree farm sent big-ass (meaning 18 feet or so) Noble fi rs to Washington in 1999 and 2002 after surviving the cutthroat competition that’s pretty much the Miss USA pageant among foliage. Judges look for a healthy appearance and the all-important shape, but skip the interview unless it’s a tiebreaker.
2) Harsh words for The Almighty
As part of the trend away from outwardly religious themes in public places, Gov. Chris Gregoire banned nongovernment displays inside the Capitol building last year — a roundabout way of getting rid of menorahs and Nativity crèches, but still allowing for a state-sponsored holiday tree in the rotunda. The rules took effect after repeated protests by the atheist Freedom From Religion Foundation, which had erected a somewhat provocative sign on Capitol grounds. “There is no God and religion enslaves minds and hardens hearts,” it said. Yes indeed, some people were pissed off.
3) Gravity is bad
While people tend to make a big deal about the fire hazards of Christmas trees (250 U.S. home fi res can be blamed on them between 2003-2007, causing an average of 14 deaths and nearly $14 million in damage per year), nobody talks about the hazards of holiday decorating. If you plan to get up on a ladder to install a bunch of reindeer, for example, bear in mind that you could be among the 5,800 folks who end up in emergency rooms as a result of an unplanned descent. Forty-three percent of the injuries were due to falls from ladders, while falls from furniture comprised 11 percent (no data on alcohol consumption). And (again, no data on alcohol consumption) “Some falls occurred when people tripped on tree skirts or other decorations,” according to the National Fire Protection Association, whose regional headquarters are in Bend.
4) What about the Rest of Us?
The Gazette was shocked and rightly appalled to learn that Ouray’s third-annual Festivus celebration has been cancelled due to lack of help. Sources tell us the gathering had been “a very popular event” over the last two holiday seasons and that it included the mandatory Feats of Strength as well as the Airing of Grievances. But while strong and grievance-ridden participants were easy to find, o r g a – n i z e r s a nd gofer s were apparently less so. A call to the chamber o f commerce yielded information about a wine and chocolate event in place of Festivus. Seriously? That said, we’re holding out for a Festivus Miracle, in which the aluminum pole (high strength-toweight ratio) magically appears on Sixth Avenue to remind us that Festivus lives on in our hearts. Or in the words of Frank Costanza, “I gotta lotta problems with you people!” http://www.seinfeldscripts. com/TheStrike.htm
5) Gotta ski?
If you live in a ski town, you’ve got the quandary of skiing/riding between the Christmas/New Year’s holidays, to hunker down and wait or take up ice fi shing. For some arcane reason, locals get spastic about the privilege of unlimited skiing on extremely busy days, but when the time comes, they’d rather cash in on double shifts than share the holiday ski experience — which can include a 90-minute traffi c jam between your house and the liquor store. For those who require the security of unlimited skiing, Vail Resorts’ $629 Epic Pass is one of the best bangs for the buck on the planet (provided you took advantage of the sales dates). It gives you unlimited turns at Vail, Beaver Creek, Breckenridge, Keystone, Heavenly, Arapahoe Basin and Northstar and Sierra at Tahoe. Most other places, you’re going to pay a tad more for the privilege of skiing or riding when you please. At Squaw Valley, California, an adult Platinum Pass cost $1,599 at early pricing. Pass-holders at Deer Valley, Utah, paid $1,630 for the season, while Jackson Hole commanded $1,570, Telluride, $1,298, and Aspen, $1,499.
6) Down and out with the Fear and Loathing
While the stresses of Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Christmas, Festivus and New Year’s Eve provide plenty of reason to drive people to the edge of madness, statisticians are quick to point out that actual suicides are more frequent in April, June and July. That said, Las Vegas is the U.S. suicide kingpin (statisticians are also quick to point out that a signifi cant number of those deaths are out-of-towners). Colorado Springs and Tucson take second and third place, with the mountain West consistently taking honors as the nation’s suicide belt. Depending on the year, Montana, New Mexico, Wyoming, Nevada and Colorado occupy the top rungs, with Alaska usually in the mix.
7) Give these kids a break
If you want some higher learning but require a lot of down time to air out your brain, the University of Montana has one of the sweetest holiday breaks you’ll fi nd. With this semester’s finals running Dec. 14-18 and the spring semester gearing up on Jan. 24, you’ve got five weeks to play “Call of Duty: Black Ops” non-stop in your parents’ basement. Sick, bro.