This has been a year of lost control. We all seem to be breathing a collective sigh, waiting for the clock to turn 2009, hoping that the economy will bounce back, our friends will get jobs, we will keep jobs.
For me it's been a year of great highs -- eating tapas with Cliff and Luis and my parents in Spain; watching Nate turn into a funny two and a half year old, reconnecting with my writing, and most recently watching yogi greet the Florida sunrise, with my toes planted in the sand of my home state. And of course watching Obama win.
It's been a tough year too, including lots of time spent like everyone else wondering where in the world we are going. I said goodbye to some friends, including one who personified the good fight. I hit some bumps.
But the first list -- the good things -- is longer.
And so, trying to get over my predictable anxiety over getting all the gifts wrapped, the table set, the cheese ball made (OK so I wasn't freaked out about this one but it did cross my mind), the house cleaned, and life and its uncertainties figured out, I decided to give it all up for The Elvis Tree.
This pink flocked tree came to me yesterday while in Michael's as I bought some last minute Christmas things. (OK, I went nuts getting 70% off glittery purple leaves and such to go on the main tree). There it was -- a 3-foot tall, pre-lit $11.99 little wonder. Not having a clue what to do with it I immediately put it in my cart. Of course.
Then it struck me. After we'd successfully assembled Thomas the Train, his table and dozens of Thomas' friends (OK Shane did the assembling but I was also in the trenches), when I was up to my ears in wrapping paper remnants and to-do lists for the next two days, it came to me: The Elvis Tree.
In a year where so much has felt out of control, The Elvis Tree was something completely in my power. I rounded up my Elvis ornaments, 45" singles, some leftover glittery decorations, a peanut butter wrapper and banana for good measure, and boom. Now granted, I think I might have inhaled some serious asbestos because all that flocking made me cough, but it felt good. Not the asbestos part, but the part where I hung my Velvet Elvis in our dining room, which I had once reserved for only Lennox and Waterford. In an hour I had reclaimed a little part of my world in my own way.
(Though not pictured in this photo, Elvis has a special friend named Paul Bear Bryant untouched Pepsi bottle, which accompanies him as an homage to our heroes.)
Elvis usually lives in corners of our house, in our office, laundry room, my closet ... but this afternoon I decided it was time for him to come on out. And so The Elvis Tree was born.
I think we will leave it up until Elvis' birthday, January 9. Or maybe forever -- not so sure.
This is by no means sacrilegious. But when a little pink tree calls, what else can be done? I feel the tiniest bit better.
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