What About All of This Wood? I couldn’t believe how overjoyed I was when a representative of Southern California Edison came by last weekend and told me that they would soon be sending crews to take down all of the dead trees that the utility has responsibility for in our neighborhood. I ran around telling all of the neighbors. A lot of us got lucky and are having the majority of our dead trees removed by Edison, so this was like a big Christmas present. I have been especially concerned about two very old and large ponderosas that border my house and that of my neighbor. One of these is a Mormon tree for sure, and the other one is big enough that it might be one too. If one of those things fell square across the roof of one of our houses, we’d have to start all over again rebuilding at the foundation. I really hate to see those big things go, but I want them out of here. Since I don’t have a few thousand bucks handy right now, I was tempted to cut them down myself with my puny chainsaw and with the limited skill and experience I have gained by cutting down a few 80-footers. The problem with doing that is this one ponderosa, which was obviously spared by the pioneer loggers for seeding, is about 130 feet tall and has a circumference of more than 10 feet at chest height. If I felled it the traditional way it would probably cause an earthquake that people could feel in Lake Arrowhead. Can you imagine how much something like that weighs? I’m glad I’m not going to find out. I’ll be staying alive and watching someone else do it the right way instead. Edison is even cutting a big sugar pine way out in the back yard down the hill. If that one fell, it would smash my roof before it would hit an Edison line, but the guy said he scoped it, and it had the potential of hitting a line. Who am I to complain about their choices? After he said that I tried pressing my luck by saying: “What about that big one way down there? Can you try measuring that one?” The look on his face said “Gimme a break, dude,” so I shut up, just in case he started to reconsider that bonus sugar pine he gave me down in the back yard. Another good thing is that I get to keep the wood, and I want to. It’s too much to burn, and nobody wants to buy the stuff anymore, so I need to get creative with it. Last winter I told my kids I’d build them a tree house. Actually it was going to be a playhouse with a deck on top, and from the deck, a ladder would lead to a tree house ringing that sugar pine down in the yard. Well, since last winter that tree has died, and it’s coming down soon. I have only barely started on the playhouse. I might still be able to keep my word. Help me feel better—if I build a playhouse out of a tree, can’t I still call it a tree house? I have three smaller trees that I have to cut down myself, and they are all about equal in girth, so I’m thinking of trying my hand at making a log cabin. The kids might like it better and it will probably be sturdier than how I might build it otherwise. The ponderosas wouldn’t work for the log cabin because those logs are going to be huge. To make use of that wood, I might try to become one of those chainsaw sculptor guys. I’d have a lot to practice on. It makes good economic sense if you think about it. A firewood chopper takes a tree, toils over it for a whole day, then goes down and sits for a half day with a sign and makes 200 bucks. The chainsaw sculptor, on the other hand, takes the same tree that someone else has cut down, and he works about a day and a half sculpting something out of a 20-foot stump, and he gives you a bill for almost 2,000 bucks. You firewood choppers need to get a little more creative with your chainsaws. That could be a good one for Donald Trump to do on that show, “The Apprentice.” Here’s a 20-foot stump—turn it into money. My problem is that I’d probably be too creative. Being an old political satire editor and amateur horror writer, I couldn’t just make a bear or something. There would have to be a little humor or horror, or both. My wooden bear would be running away howling with bark beetles crawling in and out of holes all over its face or something. Who’d want that in their yard? Who except me, of course. It’s strange that I’m sitting here trying to figure out something to do with all of that wood when I could just have someone haul it away for free. It seems that even though I know those old ponderosas have to come down for safety’s sake, I don’t want to let go of them. I know what I’ll do. I’ll have them cut it down to about 40 feet and leave me some branches, and then I’ll make a sculpture of a healthy ponderosa tree with it just for nostalgia’s sake. In a few years I’ll have the only big, healthy ponderosa on the block.
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