tales of grand stature


Things are a little dull today... probably because I'm not doing anything exciting. This feeling of ennui caused by unexciting technological cleanup and laundry makes me wonder... what is the origin of bored out of my tree?

I can't think of any explanation other than it might relate to some sort of tactic employed by logging companies to get rid of protesters who take up residence in a majestic redwood (or other tree) in order to save it from the chopping block. Such an event would surely have caused a big media frenzy and the reporters would have swarmed to the usually forgotten wildnerness. When asked by the reporters what the company planned to do about the tree huggers the PR officer might have said, "We'll just wait until she get so bored that she has to leave the tree." And when the tree hugger finally left the lofty perch with the birds the next day's headline might have read... Tree Hugger Bored Out of Her Tree. It might have quickly become a popular term, being bandied between buddies in boardrooms and lazy acquaintances in lunchrooms across the continent.