By Marshall Chapman | Dec 08/Jan 09 | Columns

Whole Lotta Christmas

Making sense of Jesus, Santa, and Jerry Lee Lewis

Sometimes I wish Christmas would just go away. For the past three Christmases, I have come down with a flu-like virus that managed to suck the holiday spirit right out of me. On some level, I think my body shuts down to avoid participation. It seems the older I get, the more I want to shout, “Hold it! Just hold everything!” I recently asked my husband if we could start celebrating Christmas every other year.

But this year, I’m trying. I really am. Already, we have icicle lights strung across the front of our house, a wreath on the door, and a Christmas tree in the front hall. The Christmas tree has lights and ornaments and everything. It’s a Douglas fir, and I love the way it makes the house smell. It’s the first tree we’ve had in three years.

The night I bought it, I flirted shamelessly with the man at the tree lot. He had wanted $150. I worked him down to $110. This price—I came to learn—did not include the cost of a tree stand or delivery. The stand was another $15. Delivery—$35.

The tree was tall and skinny.

“Just like you, Ms. Chapman,” the man joked. He was a music fan and began talking about the state of country music.

“It just ain’t country anymore,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I don’t know what it is, but it sure ain’t country.” I liked this man. He was bantam-rooster short and wore heavy overalls and work boots. He was—to borrow a phrase from Billy Joe Shaver—“loaded with hillbilly charm.” At one point, I gave him a big hug, resting my chin on the top of his head.

“I tell you what,” he said after the hug, “I’m gonna throw in the stand and delivery for free, okay?” Then he winked. “Don’t tell my boss, now.”

“Who, Joel?” I said, nodding toward his boss, whom I knew. “Shoot, one time I came in here just before midnight on Christmas Eve and he tried to charge me full price for a scrawny wreath. I said, ‘Come on, Joel. In another hour it’ll be Christmas. Why don’t you just give me the damn thing.’”