Early January is always the saddest time for me, not only because I gained 1 pound over the holidays and have to tell anyone who will listen about it, but also because of the dead and dying Christmas trees littering the sidewalks like last year’s plasma TVs, and sometimes right next to last year’s plasma TVs.
Every year, as soon as San Franciscans’ piney friends have fulfilled their job sheltering gifts and twinkling merrily next to a window, they are thrust out onto the cold and shit-streaked sidewalks to die alone and forgotten. You see their rotund little bodies clumped in twos and threes near bus stops and little baby ones propped up against fire hydrants like 3pm drunks.
Then, there are the plastic ones bent and broken in the gutter. Technically, plastic ones could be used again next year. But San Franciscans would rather shoot a man in Reno just to watch him die than keep him around to help them decorate next year.
Some trees are ousted from their cozy living rooms so fast that a few strands of tinsel still cling pathetically to their dirty branches like the mangled hair extensions of some coked-up b-list actress on her way to the glue factory. Many are just left in piles on the curb. Like someone saw one lying there and thought, ‘that looks like a good place to leave evidence that I’m a dick.’
What are San Franciscans thinking? These trees need plastic stands just to hold themselves up. They can’t survive in the wild! Not even when Shel Silverstein was researching The Giving Tree did he witness such callousness. That book isn’t even based on the genocide that goes on in San Francisco every year, which makes you shudder at the thought of what the hell it could be based on.
And to think you people call yourselves Christians. Well, I’m sure you don’t call yourselves Christians, and this disgusting display makes it pretty obvious why you shouldn’t. In San Francisco, the Christmas spirit doesn’t fall far from the dying tree next to the garbage can.
Learn more on how to responsibly dispose of your tree, here.