What's in a Brand Name?

Apparently, not as much as I once thought.

Who knows what sparked this idea for a post (maybe the flurry of Christmas shopping), but somehow I've been reminiscing of the days when I had to have my Lucky brand jeans and Doc Martens, along with other brand-name items. My mom, who raised me to think more frugally-minded, couldn't understand the need for such expensive things that I would tire of by the next season. The jeans I couldn't really justify, but the shoes were easy. Doc Martens were known for their incredible durability and so, in fact, I was really saving money in the long run. However, I became disinterested with the $80 jeans in a year or so. I do in fact still have almost every single pair of Doc Martens I bought 10 years ago and they are all still in perfectly wearable condition. What I did not count on was that styles change and I might want new shoes every once in awhile. Now I am as frugally-minded as my mom and I can't justify throwing out a perfectly good pair of shoes. The DM's are in my closet, a few reserved mainly for work and the rest collecting dust.

I think I realized one day late in high-school that I could either blow my entire clothing allowance on one pair of jeans or, with some smart and savvy shopping, get an entire outfit.

Since then I have found that I am as discretionary with all of my shopping habits. I have no problem at all buying store brand food or products. I used to buy Charmin and now we buy Target brand and I'll tell you, I can't tell the difference! Their "Swiffer" knock-offs clean our floors just as well, their paper towels are just as absorbant, and the kitties seem to actually prefer the non-Purina cat food. So if I can save a few bucks, I'm going to do it!

There are a few things that I still buy name-brand simply because of trial and error. I occasionally buy brand name clothing, but only because I like how it looks and fits me. And there's the whole VW thing (although I blame that on genetics.) However, I love the department store purse I got for Christmas last year and I couldn't go anywhere without my non-Apple MP3 player.

It looks like Mom was right.

~

We had an adventure on Tuesday that started as this:

And ended with this:

For the past few years we have gone up just south of Evanston to cut down our own Christmas Tree. Such a fun outing and an incredibly cheap way to buy a tree (only $10 for a permit), we have adopted it as one of our favorite Christmas traditions.

I woke up that morning not feeling very well, but knew that it was probably our best opportunity to get a tree on my week off. I nervously watched this storm approach as we made our way to the mountains. We went to turn off the main highway and the dirt road we always take looked pretty decent. Only a few snowflakes were falling at that moment so I felt okay. We drove up further into the forest to our favorite spot. I quickly found this tree but S wanted to look and see if we could find anything better. We ultimately came back to the first tree I found:

By the time we cut it down, loaded it up and headed down the mountain it was really starting to snow. Being extra cautious (as we had seen a truck struggling earlier) we approached this part of the road that was a little tricky to navigate. S was going slow but as the truck started to slide he did what we later learned was the wrong thing: he hit the brakes and we gracefully yet quickly slid off the side of the road that had a 15 foot drop. S yelled for me to hold on. Bracing for the worst I held my breath until I was sure we had stopped moving. The next few seconds I think I sat in shock that we were still somewhat horizontal. We knew the only thing we could do was hike 3 miles to the nearby lodge and call for help (naturally our cell phones didn't work up there).

3 miles doesn't sound like much. I run that distance all of the time. But 3 miles on a sheet of ice covered with newly fallen snow is a different story. I wondered the next day if I was so sore from falling or from trying to keep myself from falling.

We actually made pretty good time, considering we were hobbling along like an old couple, arms linked. (By the way, that first picture of me walking is on the Christmas tree hunt, when the idea of walking through the snow-laiden woods was still somewhat poetic.) We were about 2 miles down when we saw a truck coming towards us. It was at this point I knew that the 100 or so silent prayers I'd just said were answered. It turns out this nice guy Joe actually lives year-round a few hundred feet from where we slid off. So I knew in the worst case scenerio, we'd have somewhere warm to stay the night. We were able to get back to the lodge and call someone up from Evanston to come help us out. This sweet lady even stayed at the lodge past closing time so we wouldn't have to wait outside in the cold.

The tow truck driver showed up just as it was getting dark. When he pulled up in this rickety old Ford 1 ton my first thought was, Great. Now there are going to be 2 trucks stuck on the mountain. When we climbed in and I saw this 70-year old bearded man my second thought was, He's going to pull our truck back up on the road?!?! We headed back into the mountains at a dangerously high speed as this guy was saying, "Yep, been up here before." S and I looked at each other and held on for dear life. As we were rounding this incredibly ice bend I realized I wasn't buckled in. Was it better at this point to be ejected from the truck before it goes over the cliff or go over the cliff inside the truck? Thankfully we made it back up there safely and, obviously, quickly.

I was incredibly humbled watching this old man go to work. Obvious now that he had done this many times in his life, he had the winch hooked up and the truck back on the road in a matter of minutes. S and I stood there in awe.

The only damage done to the truck was a small dent on the license plate. Grateful that the truck was even still operable, we crawled off the mountain with the tow truck nearby in case we had another accident. Once down safely, we paid the guy and he left in a hurry to go rescue someone else. We headed back home with the most expensive Christmas Tree we've ever had.

As we stopped at the grocery store on our way home that night we saw a beautiful tree in their small lot. S made a comment on the $35 fresh cut tree and we started to laugh.

When we got home we were pretty much sick of this tree and opted to let it sit in our garage for a few days. We finally put it up on Thursday and it is beautiful.

After telling a friend our story she suggested we embalm it. My mom suggested we guild it. I definately think we'll be going to one of our local Christmas tree lots next year :)

We've had a c'est la vie attitude about it (our insurance even picked up the cost of the tow), but when I've sat quietly to really think about it, I get this pit in my stomach as I realize how LUCKY we are to be alive and safe. We could have been in real trouble. S told me after we were towed out that all that was holding us up was a little sapling an inch and a half in diameter. We are so grateful for angels seen and unseen that came to our rescue that day.