Isn't it fantastic to be back at work? I think so, too. With the holidays out of the way, I can concentrate on the primary focus of my job, which is: The removal of the office Christmas tree. Or "holiday" tree, although I don't know of any holidays outside of Christmas that feature a large pine tree decorated with shiny ornaments. The function of the tree is, at this time, immaterial, because my next task is to have it removed from the lobby.

So far today, I have received three phone calls and two e-mails from denizens of the building where the tree stands. I do not work in that building, so it was not possible for me to know that all the ornaments had been removed, and that the tree is ready for disposal. It's kind of nice that folks are thinking of me. I always enjoy hearing from them. Especially since I am far away, and not near the tree that is irritating them so much.

The moment New Year's Day hits, the people who work near the tree go into panic mode, wondering when it will be removed. "Who is responsible for removing the tree?" they ask, although every year, the answer is the same (me). "Will the people who sold us the tree come and take it away?" (No.) The tree turns from a festive symbol of the holidays to a giant, ticking time bomb that they are all afraid to touch. For some reason, I have been deemed the perfect person to handle its removal, which is curious because I can neither a) see the tree nor b) reach the tree, from my position here in a building across town.

It would seem that the obvious answer to the tree removal question is: Someone who works in the building should take the tree out to the recycling center. That is actually what happens every year. But to assume that would happen again, or indeed to call the recycling pick-up guys is not The Company Way. The Company Way is to have random employees call me repeatedly to educate me as to the tree's status. In past years, when I worked in the building where the tree is displayed, the Company Way has been for random employees to walk upstairs to visit my desk, then mouth the word "tree" while making an outline of a pine tree with their hands, and then shrug quizzically, to ask the silent question, "When will the tree be removed?" I enjoy this little pantomime, which is why I allow it to continue, pretending I do not understand their questions. It never occurs to any of those involved (besides me) that their collective effort in fluttering around and worrying about the tree's removal greatly outweighs the effort that would be necessary to remove it.

So: What do YOU think about the tree? Do you know when it will be taken away? Do you have any suggestions for its disposal?

[mouthing "TREE"]

[making "tree" hand gesture]

[shrugging, waiting expectantly]

Star of the day. . .John Muir