Blogatron

Countdown

I'm not sure when I noticed it; definitely sometime after the Presidents' Day storm which dumped 27 inches of snow on the greater Boston area. Let's estimate a week after that, since it was awhile before the snow melted enough to reveal what lay beneath.

So just to give this thing a boundary, let's say that since February 25, there has been this black pickup truck sitting in the parking lot of the building adjacent to mine. In the bed of the truck is a Christmas tree. It was looking a bit the worse for wear when I first noticed it, and the elements have not been kind to it since. Each day makes it more brown and brittle, more naked and skeletal.

There are a couple of peculiar things going on here. One, the truck never moves. I can only imagine the owner of the truck sitting in his or her lonely apartment, haunted by the spectacle of the tree: my imaginary person wants to go places, wants to do the shopping, wants to stock up on oodles of new spring fashions, but can't. How could one drive around with a dead tree in their truck, spewing needles at fellow drivers? It just isn't done. People would stare. Perhaps the tree is an unspoken source of tension in a romantic relationship. My tree owner's significant other may be filled with seething resentment over the continuing presence of the evergreen, seeing it as a symbol of all the little frustrations that have been building: lack of follow-through, inability to let go of the past. The tree symbolizes all those nights when the s.o. has wondered, "Is this really the one? Can I spend the rest of my life with these character flaws?" In my imagining, nothing is said. The truck and tree are merely a silent accusation, acknowledged by no one and thus gaining power every day.

The other thing that is weird is that there is not one, but two dumpsters sitting just yards away from the truck. How much could this dried-out, broken tree weigh? Could it be so hard to just drag it across the lot and heave it in? I mean you could even drive over there. It makes one wonder if perhaps the tree is being kept for some nefarious purpose. What sort of hijinx could you get up to with a dead tree anyway?

I'm at a loss to explain it, but I can track the evidence as best I can and perhaps the truth will come to light. Thus I present you with: the Tree Counter. Starting today, we'll keep track of how long the tree stays there in the pickup truck, using my estimated first sighting date as the beginning. After this entry, I'll move the Tree Counter to the sidebar, but I'll be sure to let you know if there are any notable developments.

Today's Tree Count is: 21 days.

Posted by hilatron at March 17, 2003 12:47 PM