Well, I made it through the holiday dinner with little controversy. When you get so many relatives in such close proximity, sometimes tensions can run high. But this year the turkey combined with the hypnotizing effect of the Lions game left everyone in a nice, sedate, agreeable mood. The real excitement came yesterday when it was time to find the Bergakker family Christmas tree. This is a task of literally monstrous proportions as we must find a tree suitable for the 18-foot ceiling in my parents' living room. Nothing short of twelve feet will do and even that is a bare minimum. Fortunately Dad has become resigned to the fact that cutting your own 14-foot tree is not a viable option and we are permitted to sort through the precut trees on display at the tree farm. This year we were able to decide on a tree quite quickly and then the fun could begin. My father, brother, and I proudly marched our 14-foot find over to the binder, smiling as we felt the jealous stares of all the poor little kids waiting in line to pay for 6-footers. As we hoisted our tightly bound trophy onto our shoulders and carried it to the car, a wagonload of tree-cutting families rode by. My dad beamed proudly when, in awed tones, one child said, "Oh, wow, Dad. Look at that tree! It's so big!" We ignored the chuckling doubters saying, "Yeah, but how are they gonna get it home?" With the skill and efficiency of Eagle Scouts we lashed the tree to the top of the Explorer, taking care not to completely obstruct the windsheild. Then we all piled in the car and drove home, confident our selection was one of our best ever.