New York City is insufferable in the wintertime, particularly towards the end of January, once the holiday afterglow has settled and dissolved into sewer runoff. Neighbors have dismantled their bawdy decor. City streets have been stripped of their festive lights. Window displays have readily replaced “Winter Wonderland” snow globes with “Unwrap the Love” cupids or whatever Valentine’s Day bullshit brands want us buying into these days. And then there are the sidewalks, coated in fallen needles from dried out evergreens waiting to be scooped up by Department of Sanitation angels and carried to their final resting place, begging the question: how long is too long to hold onto a giant dead tree?

My answer on the first of February is a gentle “you do you”. I’ve seen residents part ways with their Xmas trees as early as Christmas day (still fairly fresh) and as late as the end of April (very much dead and always stealthily discarded, I’m assuming to avoid shame and embarrassment). But if a dead tree in our homes is what gets us through these brutal months, then so be it.

I have my own little lingering holiday relic that I can’t seem to put away just yet—my ghost of Christmas past and December good times—a crude piece of trunk, maybe an inch thick, that was sliced off the bottom of last year’s Xmas tree. One side (the good side) is inscribed in red paint marker with “2024” and a “❤️” sandwiched between an A for Amna and D for Damon. It’s a fun, cheesy tradition (stolen from creative friends, I thank them for showing me their ways) we’ve been doing for the past 10 years or so. We’ve amassed an impressive collection of these tree trunk discs, including two that are dated “2020” after returning a shitty it’s-only-the-beginning-of-December-and-already-dying tree and trading it for a new one.

Thinking about it more, in deferring to pluck this woody holiday love memento off my living room media console and pack it up for good until Christmas 2025 rolls around, I’ve created my very own “Winter Wonderland” meets “Unwrap the Love” display, haven’t I? In my apartment, both exist at once. One doesn’t have to fade out for the other to emerge. There’s plenty of space. Why can’t we have string lights and candy hearts? Snow angels and footballs (snow angels throwing footballs?). Glittery pinecones and Abraham Lincoln’s silhouette or whatever President’s Day image brands prefer. Winter is winter. Fall/Winter’s festive, jovial mood shouldn’t end simply because New Year’s Eve is deemed the final holiday tentpole before Q1 starts up.

Anyway, this is all to say that, as things currently stand, New York City is and will remain a bleak gray splotch smeared with crosswalks and double yellow lines now until on or after April 1. I say let hold onto your dead trees. Buy a new one, even. Let your holiday lights and questionable decor shine far beyond any asinine limit. Whatever you need, give it to yourself.

In February Shit Gets Real

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