Gay Tree

Every year in the Neighborhood, the Birdie family makes a big to-do about putting up the Christmas decorations. My mother has boxes and crates of the things all piled up in her basement storage, and every year she hoists them out of the subterranian and lays them out in a giant splay. From the splay, we choose our theme of the year. One year was all white and gold, and the living room and dining room were all decked out in glittering garland and gossamer chintz. The tree had white and yellow lights, and beautiful, delicate ornaments that fit the regal theme.

For another year, we did a International Christmas theme and hung different cultural icons all over, such as small, satin depictions of concubines and a little Indian sitar ornament. We even had intergalactic tidbits, including an electronic Star Trek ornament that relayed a recorded message from Spock wishing all beings a happy holidays, and to live long and prosper. Every year is something new, but after 25 years of family decorating I figured she'd run out of ideas.

Clearly, not. I called home while bored on the commute from work, and caught the remaining Jerseyians in full-on decoration mode. I asked my brother Mikey how the decorations were coming this year.

"Mom made a gay tree. It's got all these satin and frilly ornaments everywhere, and the lights are pink and purple."

I laughed assuming he was kidding, in the sense that when you're 16 everything is "gay". Chores are gay, chick flicks are gay, going to the dance is "gay, mo-om..." but he seemed serious.

Of course, I know my mom didn't make a gay tree on purpose. If you take a quick stroll through any Christmas-theme store and you'll see that pink and purple trees are kind of this year's "in" thing. But nothing makes you miss your family more, than hearing your youngest brother dead-pan to you, that in the spirit of Christmas, our tree this year is decidedly "gay". That's just comedy right there. Gay tree. Now I'm homesick.