In time for the holidays, Complete PR is starting its newest content feature, Point-Counterpoint, where he tackle issues that we feel are pressing. This week, we are debating real vs. fake Christmas trees:
Point: Emily Dyer in defense of fake trees
Growing up, my family was always partial to having a fake Christmas tree. It was mostly due to the fact that we weren’t very keen on the idea of chopping down a tree then having to tote it on top of the car across town. Plus fake trees don’t smell or have bugs — most of the time. In fact, my family had the same fake tree until I was 18, at which point my parents were moving and didn’t want to drag the massive tree to their next house. The type of tree we had is now deemed the “old fashioned” kind. This particular tree would probably only be seen at your grandparent’s house these days. The one where you have to place the individual branches into the tree and then fluff them out (if you are an 80’s or 90’s kid then you know what I’m talking about). To this day, I still own a fake tree. I honestly don’t think I will ever buy a real tree for Christmas due to the fact that I have always grown up with the simplicity of having the same fake tree. I am also a tad bit lazy (okay cheap) and would rather pay for a fake tree that will last rather than having to buy a new tree year after year.
Counterpoint: John Boyanoski in defense of real trees
When I was kid, my parents swore by real trees. Half the fun was going to a “mountain” and “cutting down” a tree. I use quotation marks because it wasn’t until I was older that I realized we went to a lot and chose a tree most years. It just seemed like this was some great pioneer struggle when I was a kid. Of course, my parents were thrifty and would buy a cheap tree with some bare spots and that was the other half of the fun. When we got the tree home and “let the branches fall for a few days,” my dad would inevitable cut some branches off the tree and then drill holes in the trunk to reattach them in bare spots. We ended up with trees that sort of looked like Frankenstein’s Monster. But, hey, my parents saved twenty bucks, which meant more presents under the tree. Actually, when I first moved out on my own, I went and bought the ugliest tree I could find to put up just to keep up the tradition. Then I did it the next year and the year after that. Then I started getting tired of watering trees and worrying about cats or dogs knocking it over. So, about seven years ago, I went to fake trees.
Conclusion: Fake trees win.