Hobo Jungle

[Tramp]

DULLEST CHRISTMAS TREE STORY EVER TOLD

I participate in one, and only one, online forum. A thread that I started almost ten years ago is still running, having gathered well over a million views and twenty thousand posts. We're a mismatched group of cyber friends, but over the years some members have actually met and spent time together, and particularly during the holidays, we always check in online. Three things bind us together. We like trains, drinking, and we all have a sense of humor.

Most holidays I'll put up a post something like this: I hear a sweet ringing in the air. A delicate ringing, almost a pleasant squeaking, so I know it's not sleigh bells. Do you hear that? Might sound like approaching joy. Anyone else hear it? Any ideas what it might be?

And one of the members will know immediately what I'm referring to. The beverage cart! Imagine one during the heyday of passenger train service across America, the kind that headed down the aisles. My cart, the New England version, is pushed by an ancient black Pullman porter who always calls me captain. "Afternoon, cap'n," he'll say, since my cart never appears before twelve-thirty. "What will we be having today, cap'n?" He knows I only drink beer, usually Canadian or Dutch, but he's a very agreeable apparition. And when he sets down my beverage, impeccably served, old-school style just the way I like it, today he adds, "Merry Christmas, cap'n. I'll be by later, see if you might need another." He knows I'm good for a few on holidays, but the man is forever polite.

On the forum we joke about keeping one wheel free from oil. We want to be able to hear that squeak of the approaching beverage cart. Usually, while I'm waiting for the porter to head my way from the club car, I write a quick story about getting our Christmas tree. Most years there's something funny or unusual that makes for an easy story. This year absolutely nothing happened, but I'm going to write it anyway to continue the tradition.

Daisy and I headed to the abandoned balsam fir tree farm that we used last year, the weather so warm and sunny, it might as well have been California. Though Thanksgiving had been blizzarded, there's nary a flake on the ground. An aged curmudgeon of a Mainer owns the place, beady blue eyes, raspy nose, and eleven strands of white hair. He sells his overgrown trees for thirty-five dollars, and overgrown means that most of them have reached twenty-five or thirty feet. Last year we cut and hauled the thing ourselves, up hill and through a foot of frozen snow, but this year I figured that for that kind of money, I'd let Aged do the work with his chainsaw and tractor. Lucky thing I did because Daisy chose a tree that could only be nicknamed Godzilla. Heavy? The trunk had to be carved down to fit our massive no-trunk-too-big tree stand, the bottom branches span nine feet—I just measured—and the beast has no less than three tops. Even the real Godzilla only had one top even if he had a few fins on his back and breathed fire. Considering that, I might unname the tree for tonight's candle lighting.

But back to the cutting. Godzilla did not fall easily. On Aged's first try his chainsaw fell apart. I was ready to step in with my trusty hand saw, but Aged merely grumbled and continued dismantling his Hitachi. Took about fifteen minutes, but finally—I'm not known for patience—he got the damn chain back on and filled the woods with blue smoke, revving the machine cruelly. The sound must have alerted Daisy who finally returned. She had gotten bored and wandered off into the woods searching for lost deer.

Each year I secure the tree a little more precariously to the top of the Honda. This time I need not have worried. Godzilla was so heavy that the Honda looked like a lowrider, and the tree wasn't going anywhere. I really began to understand the weight when I slid him off the car, the tractor having loaded him onto it. I only managed to drag him beside the house. I left him there until the next day, knowing no one could possibly steal the creature.

Getting Godzilla into the house by myself while Daisy was working at the boat yard was one of those impossible-but-you-somehow-manage-it tasks. Heaving at the balance point of the trunk and trying not to trip too many times on the branches was key. By the way, rubbing alcohol will remove balsam fir sap from sweaters, shirts, and hands miraculously. Once the beast was secured and vertical, the lights, all twelve hundred of them, went on without a whimper from me. Daisy was impressed by my whole attitude, my new calm and non-complaining manner, the gentle smile of holiday cheer and goodwill toward all creatures, even Godzilla. Of course the next day, once all three-hundred antique balls and tinsel had been carefully adhered, the entire tree went dark and it took over an hour to locate the one devilishly dead strand and replace it. Even this I managed without much temper. I'm a happier man now. The right woman will do that.

The ornament trimming was vastly improved this year because of a new system that I highly recommend to those with tall trees. Trim and finish the top first, even the icicle tinsel. This way the stepladder can be nestled into the lower limbs easily without knocking off and breaking delicate balls. I'm surprised I hadn't figured this one out sooner. Another added plus to this method is that the top is finished while you're still reasonably sober. No more balancing on the top rung of the ladder, reaching out precariously with that one final ornament while Daisy points and directs, "There, a little further up. Almost. Just above that silver one," while the body sways and the head reels with calamitous visions and beer. Speaking of which . . .

Hey, what was that sound? That faint squeak? Must be my old friend heading up the Pullman aisle like Santa.

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas!

[DennisB]

Buddy, I wish that I had your talent to take the simplest story and infuse it with warmth and wit. Wonderful!

[Rufus T. Firefly]

I'm a happier man now. The right woman will do that.

A truly key criterion.

Excellent story, too,

When I was young, the family would go out to get a live tree and not cut it down, but dig it up - almost always a blue spruce. We had a truly live tree in the house for many Christmas celebrations. But then, we would take it and ourselves all into the family station wagon, drive the 4 hours to the Grandparent's place in the woods (now mine...) and have yet another Christmas celebration. And within a few days thereafter, we would take the tree outside and plant it.

2 of these trees still stand outside my place in PA; I had to take 3 down a few years ago for both safety reasons and their declining health. It was difficult to do, and 1 of the remaining is not going to last too much longer.

[MurphOnMillerAve]

... But then, we would take it and ourselves all into the family station wagon, drive the 4 hours to the Grandparent's place in the woods (now mine...) and have yet another Christmas celebration. And within a few days thereafter, we would take the tree outside and plant it.

2 of these trees still stand outside my place in PA; I had to take 3 down a few years ago for both safety reasons and their declining health. It was difficult to do, and 1 of the remaining is not going to last too much longer.

A metaphor for life, isn't it.

Murph

[2railjon]

Wonderful story, Cap'n!!!! Gomer dropped by my place as well.

[Rufus T. Firefly]

... But then, we would take it and ourselves all into the family station wagon, drive the 4 hours to the Grandparent's place in the woods (now mine...) and have yet another Christmas celebration. And within a few days thereafter, we would take the tree outside and plant it.

2 of these trees still stand outside my place in PA; I had to take 3 down a few years ago for both safety reasons and their declining health. It was difficult to do, and 1 of the remaining is not going to last too much longer.

A metaphor for life, isn't it.

Murph

I hope I'm not getting cut down any time soon!

[Dewey1]

Cap'n, I 'll have a litle touch of Vodka tonight to chase my gaggle of medication. The boys and girls are into the wine and beer and the spouse is on-Ugh-Diet Coke.
Merry Christmas to all.

[The Dirt]

May all you hobos get to celebrate Christmas with the strong support of your loved ones!



Merry Christmas from Pete and Evan (Hev Jr), and a tip of the old tin cups to one and all.

(PS: In case you’re wondering, that’s me on the bottom.)

[ChipR]

Tramp,

"I'm a happier man now. The right woman will do that".

Thanks, truer words were never spoken.

Merry Christmas,
ChipR

[MartyE]

Merry Christmas and God Bless...

Picture 004.jpg (40.22 KiB) Viewed 2144 times

[Will]

Merry Christmas, Bos. Petey I hardly recognized Evan. We got to get together man- you know I'm back in my house. Tramp, nice to see you're still writing. I am painting.

[sarge]

Santa has annoyed my wife by tracking up the house. The evidence is quite clear...






Meanwhile, the Lad worked very hard on this wonderful gift to his old Dad.




I know what he and I are doing the rest of the day...




I hope all are having a wonderful day.

[2railjon]

Gather 'round behind Gomers as Tramp has "acquired" a skillet of delights from Ol' Fezziwigs' smoke house!!!
Merry Christmas, fellow hobo's!!!!!

[healey36]

Every Christmas Eve, when my kids were small, we would make the trek up to Glen Rock PA for the train display at the VFD. Time has quickly passed, grade school and high school are in the books, and college is done for one and the other's in the final stretch. Still, the one thing they insist on every Christmas Eve is a return visit to Glen Rock. I've got no problem with that. Here's a few pic's from last night...hope you guys are having a great Christmas. Healey

[2railjon]

Pete, You're gonna have to keep the Marine recruiters from dragging that giant of a son off!!!!!!
Marty, good to hear from you!!!!
Healey, great shots of the layout!!!!!
Sarge, I got lucky this year as Santa only left one Lego set. But he did drop off a Fender electric guitar for the lad. I don't know if the trade off is going to be worth it!!!! Ohhhh, my poor ears!!!!!!!!!!!