I hesitate writing this particular column because I’m afraid that people will think I’m making things up. That’s because it’s time for me to write about the annual Nagasawa Christmas tree purchase.
This year is no different. It started out good as my wife and daughter were the advance team and they chose a tree without me having to be there.
Picking up the tree was a different story.
I was about to depart for the lot and asked my wife for the receipt. She said she wanted to go with me, I suspect because she wanted to ensure the correct tree was given to us. Short of plant DNA testing, she is meticulous about confirming the tree we get is the one she picked out.
We get to the tree lot and I see my old friends who work there year after year. There’s the guy who wears his hair in a bun, the huge bearded guy and the guy with missing teeth. Oh, yeah, they also know who we are, so as soon as they see my wife, they scatter. She finally corners one of them and hands him her numbered ticket. As he walks away, he yells to his partner, “Grab No. 207,” and then he threw the slip of paper into a trash can. Immediately my wife looks at me and says, “Our ticket is No. 204!” I said, “What do you want me to do? He threw it away.”
Without saying a word, she stared at me with her head tilted and eyebrows raised. I know that “look,” so the next thing you know I’m digging through a trash can on a Christmas tree lot. I can tell you this: The boys had fried chicken for lunch.
I finally found the ticket just as they brought our tree out. My wife was elated, as it was the tree she had chosen. She sang Christmas carols on the drive home. All I know is, I was craving KFC.
Ron’s WEBSITE of the week
Carolyn Wright does a Web site dedicated to Bluegrass music in Hawaii. Check out the Kauai groups involved with this music society:
Strum that banjo and send your favorite sites to me at firstname.lastname@example.org