Catherine Zeta-Jones & Christmas Trees
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Manhattan doesn’t have a shortage of celebrities. No, they are everywhere. At restaurants. Strolling the streets. In the park. Celebrity-spotting certainly isn’t a daily occurrence for me, but it happens. And pretty frequently too. Growing up, Christopher Reeve was a next door neighbor. I have shared a communal dressing room with Britney Spears. I have held the Starbucks door so Mira Sorvino could exit with her double stroller. Jennifer Garner used to wait tables at a favorite local restaurant. I recently had an impromptu burger with Cyndi Lauper.
Okay, enough name-dropping. Yuck. You get the picture.
Wait. I have one more name to drop. Catherine Zeta-Jones. I saw her two weeks ago. Here’s the setup. Husband and I brought the girls to a local playground. At one point, I decided that it was time for a little caffeine fix, so I hoisted Baby to my hip and we made a quick jaunt to Starbucks. We bounced down the sidewalk, twirling at spots, both of us giggling. As we approached our destination, I saw something and literally stopped in my tracks. A creature of exponential, almost inhuman, beauty. She was tall, impossibly thin but not sick-looking, dressed all in black. Her hair cascaded around a porcelain face hidden behind vast movie star shades. At first, I didn’t know who it was, but in a few moments it was clear as that November day. It was Catherine.
I studied her. Countless people studied her. And then I studied myself. Ripped jeans, battered Uggs, unwashed hair. I felt like a different species. And then I had a thought, “Whatever, she looks so fake.” Out of patent insecurity, I started telling myself stories about plastic surgery and personal trainers. But then, oddly, I stopped. I looked at her again. This time from the back as she walked into the flea market. This time, I focused on a different aspect. Her hand. It was holding another hand. That of her son. A handsome little boy. Suddenly, this creature, this beautiful creature, wasn’t so foreign. She was a mother. Just like I was. Out on a Sunday with her kid. Rumor has it she lives in our neighborhood.
Fine. Some of you are probably wondering about the latter half of my title, but hold your reindeer, I’m getting there. My encounter with this celebrity mom got me thinking about the dichotomy of real and fake, of authenticity and artificiality. What is real? What is fake? What is authentic? What is artificial? Are we more real than celebrities because we don’t have personal chefs and fake breasts and personal umbrella holders? I’m not so sure. Don’t celebrities have many real problems in life and love (hi, Tiger) that are just lived out in more unfortunate and public ways?
Aren’t we all mixtures of real and fake?
Which (finally) brings me to trees. After I publish this oddball post, I will head out with Husband and the girls to pick our Christmas tree. We are all very excited. We will probably pick a ten-footer or so, a Frasier Fir. (Wow, just realized that I like my trees the way I like my men – tall, muscular, nice-smelling.) We will pick (and pay an exorbitant amount for) a real tree. I’m not going to lie. I’ve always had something against the artificial, commodified, perfect-looking celebrity tree. But now I’m not sure why. Is it really that real, that organic, to prop a dying tree in the middle of a living room and blanket it in electricity and ornaments? Can’t one have an authentic Christmas experience around a faux tree?
The lines are blurring. And I think this is good, but it is also confusing. What is real? What is fake? What is artificial? What is authentic?
I blog here daily in an attempt to spew some authenticity into this fake-it-to-make-it world of ours. But before I spew, I edit and polish and rearrange and attach a cute little photo. Is that really being authentic? Can authenticity itself be artificial?
I know. I am confused too. I’ve gone from celebrity sightings to a semantic quagmire. Just your typical Saturday morning chez Aidan’s mind.
Now it’s time to publish these artificially authentic words and go buy that “real” tree.
(Maybe we will see Catherine and her family buying their tree. You never know.)
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Do you think the distinction between real and fake is often artificial?
What was your best celebrity spotting?
When it comes to trees, do you go real or fake? Why?
I think that the beauty of Christmas comes from within, and each person and family expresses their love for the season differently. There is absolutely no difference, as far as I can see, between a family with no tree or material gifts gathered around a table sharing joy than a family with a ten foot tree and tons of presents experiencing the same joy. It’s when the joy is not there, in my opinion, that makes the difference.
I lived in NYC, for about two years and I too had my share of celebrity sitings. I worked at the Barnes & Noble in Union Square, so you can imagine that mix of celebs in there. I’ve rung up, Molly Ringwald, Rikki Lake, Rick Okasic (sp?), Bjork, Neil Patrick Harris, Benjamin Bratt, Tim Robbins, Adrien Grenier, Julia Stiles and that’s just the ones I can remember off the top of my head.
BUT, my first and most exciting was Uma Thurman and Ethan Hawke. I had lived in NYC for a few months and hadn’t seen ANYONE. I was getting a little disappointed. I had heard the stories of Uma and Ethan hanging out in the store, but I always missed them. Then one Sunday, a few weeks before Christmas, I was on the floor behind the registers cleaning up something and I hear this breathy, but familiar, voice say “Hi.” I, being hungover and not happy to be at work on a Sunday morning, replied, “Hang on a sec, I’ll be right with you.” (So yes I was a little short with Uma) When I stood up and turned to the voice, I literally gasped. She was very pregnant at the time with her son and she was about 8 feet tall. I swear she was so beautiful she was glowing. I think I stared at her for a full (long) 5 seconds before she spoke to me. During those 5 seconds, I thought, “Oh, please let Ethan Hawke be here.” He was there, and also as beautiful as her. Needless to say, I couldn’t help her since she needed something wrapped, but I did ring Ethan up and I almost passed out during that exchange. No joke, my knees where shaking and I had to hold onto the counter to keep myself up. Just retelling that story has me feeling all giddy inside again.
And to answer your fake or real tree… I go fake, I grew up that way. You know perfectly shaped tree covered in tons of Hallmark ornaments. I did have a real tree for a few years, but would just get angry that I couldn’t bend the branches and shape it to perfection. So, I got a fake one and all is well again. Maybe one day I’ll switch back.
So funny. We just got back from the Greenmarket in Union Square where we have bought our tree for the past 5 years (9 foot Fraser fir, our ceilings are bit lower than yours). The farmer who remembers us year in year out (who says NYC isn’t a friendly small town?) told us that Ashley Alexandra Dupre, the woman who brought down Gov Spitzer had just bought her tree from him (6 ft Douglas fir)! While it may not have been my celeb sighting, it is now my new favorite one!
In my former life, I shared an elevator with Catherine and Michael Douglas on our way to a Golden Globes party we were all attending. She was luminous. I think she is actually less fake than most Hollywood stars — maybe because she is Welsh? The Brits tend to be less plastic for some reason. Maybe it’s the defiance against gyms. In any case, she was far less plastic than Michael was. Her hair — I will never forget that hair!
I am an artifical tree person myself. It’s just my tradition.
I stood behind Jlo’s amazing butt, in line for a coffee at the Miami airport. That’s all I got!
Man, I am not at all in the league of you NYC-ers! Let’s see…in my youth, my sister and I were allowed on the Aerosmith bus after a concert…and my sister barfed on Joe Perry’s shoes. Alas, true story.
Alice Cooper on an airplane.
Don King in Vegas.
Matt Dillon circa the My Bodyguard years.
Not very impressive.
I would kill for Catherine’s hair. I have extreme hair envy.
I prefer a real tree but I also hate cleaning up the needles, so I am torn.
As for me? Tits: fake Wit: real
I recently smiled and said hello to one of my (LDS) high-up church leaders leaving our local Costco. It was like seeing the Pope grabbing a churro and a smoothie when his holiness picks up more bottled water. It was a very humanizing moment for me. Even though these people may appear on our televisions and magazines, they still have to buy bread and eggs just like the next guy.
For the instances where we were not allowed a tree (one very fickle apartment complex) we bought a fake tree. We only used it twice. Family tradition holds that we head out in the cold on the day after Thanksgiving to buy a real tree.
I love the holes and imperfections of a real tree. I love how it to bends to the left and makes our angel sit askew. I love how the unpretentious beauty of a slightly lopsided tannenbaum goes perfectly with the 29 years of homemade ornaments and quirky decorations I’ve collected.
My in-laws have a 20 foot pre-lit and pre-decorated tree. I say, “Where’s the fun in that?” Half of the tree experience is de-tangling the lights and telling your kids the history of each ornament as it comes out of the box. Then we toast with egg nog.
I feel the same way about people. Why do you dye your grey hair or get your tummy tucked to hide your stretch marks? You’ve (I’ve!) earned every one of those imperfections and I regard them as badges of honor, even if they are badges I don’t especially want.
In short, keep the imperfections…they make you more real and remind you of how far you’ve come. And no candle in the world can compare to the smell of a freshly cut pine tree.
interesting question.. what is real and what is fake.. no expert here… and I’m no Catherine Zeta Jones either.
we have a tree made at a factory that was made by humans. it will not die anytime soon, but it is lovely. you will have a tree made only by God.. it will die, but it will be gorgeous.
perhpas therein lies the answer.. but what is the true question?
Everyone is real on some level. But we perceive them through our own walls and preconceived notions. And we must pierce their surfaces and walls. We may never get to their “authenticity” but perhaps that isn’t our place. Others may never get to ours. We needn’t make these things available in the same way to everyone. We never do, anyway.
My mother had remarkable outer beauty when she was young. It hid much, a complexity that no one ever figured out. Was it authentic? Were the outer performances that varied by audience authentic? Yes, and no, and by degrees.
Is the father of my children authentic? My belief is that he is not, with anyone, and to his advantage. Is he “real” – very much so. He manufactures shadows and thunder. To others, he offers something else which they perceive as real.
Human motivation and complexity. Surfaces and walls.
“all the world’s a stage…”
i prefer a real tree, but it’s messy, it dies and i think that’s selfish. so we do plastic, but i think it’s still just as much fun and just as beautiful.
No real sitings of celebs. I did see Clint Eastwood once when I was in the Monterrey area with friends. That was eons ago as I was never married.
Trees, they are a conundrum for me. I have a forestry degree so love trees. Unfortunately, I discovered that the allergies that my kids have do not like live trees in the house. Broke down and bought a fake one and will never go back.
Ah yes, the memories of living in NYC and the exciting encounters I had in the most random places.
Tom Hanks running in Central Park – I had to speed up my pace to keep up with him but it was the push I needed!
Kate Hudson at Nobu – rude, obnoxious, showy
Kevin Bacon running in central Park – skinny little guy!
Brooke Shields trying on jeans at Urban Outfitters
Keifer Sutherland playing pool in a random bar downtown
Maggie Gyllenhall – having a beer at a pub downtown
Steven Tyler on treadmill next to me in Vegas
Since all of my sightings happened to be in very “real” personal spaces (except Kate Hudson), I felt like they weren’t on show or superficial. I couldn’t help but stare because they were so “untouchable” but after a few moments… they seemed just like anyone else.
I don’t do the Christmas Tree thing but I know FOR SURE if I did, I’d go real all the way. One of my best memories in NYC was walking up the upper east side near my apartment by the Christmas tree sellers… that SMELL was one of my favorites. One that will forever be in my thoughts from my years in the city.
Semantic quagmire – you are a girl after my own heart. My husband will often say to me, “You’re getting all tangled up in semantics” – like it’s a *bad* thing! I love how this post evolved. I like how you shake up our authenticity, dusting it off and pushing us to look at what IS real.
It’s interesting meeting or spotting celebs. I’ve had a few experiences myself: Daniel Handler (aka Lemony Snicket), Lindsey Buckingham and Paul Stanley. My BIL & SIL live in Santa Barbara and work the film festival there. They’ve met many celebs and say most of them are down to earth and friendly.
I actually have no idea what “authentic” really means. I think living your life as decently and as genuinely as you can is all any of us can do. Celebs are just like us except w/more money, fame, and fake parts. That’s why we love/hate/envy them so much.
this is sooo new york! i love how c z-j is impossibly thin in real life and all you used to hear about was her “ample” figure. when we first moved to nyc in the late 90s, my ex and i sat next to jim jarmusch and friends at angelica cafe. al franken sat across from me on the subway (long before his fame in radio and politics). more recently my ex and i had brunch at the table next to jeff daniels (while he was appearing on broadway) at the popover cafe. he was talking to an older couple about what it was like to be jeff daniels. i’ve seen both bobby flay and his wife stephanie march on separate occasions in chelsea. but my all-time favorite is when i ran into wesley stace (aka john wesley harding) on the sidewalk in the flatiron district last spring. i stopped, told him i loved him, and he reciprocated–it was so exciting i posted about it on my blog!
Whenever I’ve met celebrities, I’ve been more surprised at how they are real people, and the ones I’ve spoken to (possibly the only area in my life in which I will just shamelessly go up to someone like that!) seem to appreciate if you talk to them like they’re regular people. No offense (!) but I think it’s just jealousy talking to dismiss them as “fake.” I just don’t compare myself too much because I figure they have a lot more time, money, and help to look as nice and polished as they do. I mean if it were justifiably part of my career to the gym, I might actually go more often too! :p
Have fun picking out, and decorating your tree!
Fake or real? For me it’s all about being authentic. A fake christmas tree, beautifully decorated in silver & white for a contemporary chick or a real tree adorned with handmade ornaments for a traditional gal, both are equally real. The litmus test is communicating who you are!
ok first of all your blog is awesome, i just stumbled on it by sheer accident (ok, and partially through a friend’s recommendation).
anyway, also must apologize for the lack of proper Caps, it’s a lazy saturday night and i’m stuck at home watching my boyfriend write a paper for grad school (also 20 degrees out).
ANYWAY…so celeb sighting. i ran into brooke shields about a month after michael jackson passed away. it was in some north african restaurant in soho. she looked like she was in deep conversation with a guy, but i wasn’t going to let that stop me. i apologized for interrupting and told her that the world was sad for losing the MJ that brought us the moonwalk and billie jean, but she had truly lost a friend. she held my hand said “that’s really touching.” her face looked so sad. for that moment, i forgot how fake celebs can be, and realized that deep down they are fragile and vulnerable, even more than most of us, since they’re always parading for the public to criticize.
since then i’ve refused to pick up a tabloid magazine. who cares what brad, jen and angelina are doing? ive got my own day-to-day dramas!
cheers!
chris
Being up here in the cold white north, the only celebs that come here are hiding. And for good reason, we would never expect them!
In any case, this post turned a very interesting direction. Real, authentic, fake. Whatever. We’re all people, that makes it real by default, whether it’s because we are proud of our scars or ashamed enough to hide them, it’s all real. Just as a real tree will have as much meaning as a fake tree.
We’ve done both, the live (and almost dead tree) which I loved for it’s visual and olfactory stimulation, and the artificial tree which I have hoped saved one more tree for one more day. Both are authentic feelings, authentic reasoning and both were mine. Does that make me fake? Nope, just dynamic, complex, and ever changing.
Thanks again Aidan, for making us think.
Aidan, I followed BigLittleWolf’s award to your blog, and so I’m a first time reader. I found this post, and others, so evocative of New York, and way what might be extraordinary somewhere else seems, well, ordinary there. I grow up in Brooklyn, Park Slope, to be exact. Plenty celebrities there now, but when I was a kid, we had to go to Manhattan. I never look for celebrities when I shake the grass out of my hair and go to Philly.
So I know what it is like to be a New Yorker — but also what it is like to have left that identity behind, to a large extent.
I wanted to ask you and it’s genuinely out of curiosity — do you ever wonder what it would be like not to be stamped as a New Yorker? What it feels like to live in a very different environment?
You live such a rich life that, in a way, to read your blog is to become a tourist, not solely of your life, but of the life of a city that many of us never experience. And yet perhaps there are places and folk who do that for you?
I blogged about real vs fake today too– from a downtown perspective
I see a big difference in real vs fake, though I think you are absolutely right that there is real and fake inside all of us. It always makes me think of the painting commonly found outside of Buddhist monasteries of pious monks walking in a line, and one of them is a fox in monk’s robes… a charlatan in every group, even the most ‘authentic’.
To me fake is simply not being true to essence. Dolly Parton strikes me as a pretty authentic person, for example.
For years I’ve been trying to work out a way to have a live tree in a pot that can be hauled into the house in the autumn and decorated. Then when the weather warms, I could stick it back outside. I hear many people south of myself do this with Norfolk pines.
Yesterday, a friend and therapist explained it to me this way: “Most of us have to act fake sometimes — to kiss our bosses’ butts every so often or act nice to a neighbor we don’t really like to keep the peace. But we all know when to raise ‘the mask,’ and when to lower it. Fake people, they don’t even KNOW they have a mask.”
I think most of us are real in some ways, and fake in others. I have no problem with celebs being kinda fake, they shouldn’t be like us – if are, they don’t deserve to have any more money then we do.
I once worked in at a local access TV station in the Bay Area, and someone introduced me to LL Cool J. Nice guy, soft-spoken.
I love real Xmas trees, but alas we have to get fake ones because we have a cat. The fake ones are safer because they don’t attract her attention.
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