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Captured from the near future...

Once again, it's that most wonderful time of the year. Jews all around the world go to their local Menorah groves, pick their favorite fresh menorah, tie it to the roof of the car, and bring it home to decorate for the holidays.

For those of you unfamiliar with how Hanukkah has changed in recent years, let me enlighten you (pun intended, if not achieved). Though I'm not sure how you missed the changes since Hanukkah is now as big as Christmas, and not even just in Jewish circles (or stars).

You're already aware of the Hanukkah story itself, the festival commemorating the brave effort led by the Maccabees that led to the rededication of the Temple University extension campus in Jerusalem.

First, there was the international accord five years ago. No, not the Middle East Accords, not the Honda Accord, nor the accord to accord accordian-playing privileges during services. D'accord.

I refer to the Hanukkah Accord, sometimes referred to as the HanukkAccord. Arrived at after months of heated debate, it declared that all people shall henceforth spell Hanukkah as such. Use of any other spellings in English-speaking contexts is forbidden by Jewish law, punishable by doing the dishes with your mother-in-law (or mother, if necessary). And you have to clean the latke skillet.

Of course, this opened the door to an increase in cooperation among different Jewish communities and denominations worldwide. But we're not here to talk politics. Quite the opposite, we're here to welcome the holiday season, just in time for it to end.

And what would the holiday season be without packing the family in a car, driving to the neighborhood grove, and picking from the smallest foot-tall menorah to the giant eight-footers that adorn the largest homes with vaulted ceilings.

If you haven't witnessed the marvel that is transporting one of these menorahs, let me draw a picture.

Okay, I'm not so good with a crayola so you don't get to see the drawing. Let me describe it.

Depending on the size of the menorah, several strong, long-haired young men will carry the large menorah to your vehicle and help you strap it on using a special new rope called, appropriately enough, HanukkaCord. Unloading one of these at home can typically turn into a neighborhood event. The hardest part is getting through the front door.

You may ask, how can they lift such a thing? When the Menorah groves sprang up, several men spent the time since Yom Kippur growing their hair long, just as Sampson did, to gain divine strength. To show that there is divine acceptance of this new practice, it seems to have worked.

Incidentally, similar to Sampson's downfall, their wives always make their first night presents a free haircut. Often immediate. Needless to say, people are on their own removing the menorahs after Hanukkah ends.

Of course, Menorah groves are only present in major cities. Jews in less populous communities must travel hours to get their trees each year, much like driving hours to the nearest metropolis to buy kosher food. However, some communities have started to truck a supply of trees in each year to alleviate the burden.

So, just what is this special menorah that's available in droves in groves? Much like people have tried for years to breed the rare, biblically significant red heifer cow, Jewish botanists collaborated to breed Menorah trees.

Obviously, they have nine branches just like any old traditional Hanukkah candelabra. Much like horseshoes are put on horses to protect their feet, special plates are added to the top of each curving branch to prevent accidental tree fires when the Menorah tree is lit every night.

Larger menorahs are used only in houses with vaulted ceilings, though some people go for width instead of height (many different tree shapes are cultivated each year). And it's certainly easy, regardless of size, to display them visibly through a front window as tradition dictates. Some of them you can't miss from earth orbit.

Most people light dripless candles every night to minimize safety concerns. But those traditionalists who are minimally concerned with safety still light traditional candles or even oil lamps.

People enjoy tremendous variety in the size and colors of the candles. Some use traditional candle colors, while others turn them into political statements. For example, to show American patriotism, many menorahs can be seen with red, white, and blue candles. Those supporting AIDS research use all red candles (contrary to speculation, they are NOT showing solidarity for the red light district). Those unfortunate souls who favor Auburn have been known to use blue and orange candles, though this practice should be forbidden for obvious reasons.

The Hanukkah Accord was quickly amended to state that it's acceptable to use the term menorah, traditionally only a seven branch object, when referring to the traditional Hanukkah nine branch Hanukiyah. There were three reasons. First, most people call it a menorah anyway. Second, many people can't pronounce hanukiyah. Third, a lot of people can't tell the difference between hanukiyah and Hanukkah, so confusion is averted.

With this new tradition for the Menorah came a slew of new product lines. Of course, there's a special Menorah skirt which catches all the melted wax every night. There's a slew of ornaments you can hang on your Menorah, though acceptance of this practice is growing but not yet widespread.

Loews Depot, the recently merged home supply conglomerate, has even produced an entire line of decorative ladders specially designed to take up little space and blend well with the most stylish living room décor for people who must light exceptionally tall menorahs each night.

And, of course, what would Hanukkah today be without your own Maccabee Scene? These artistic, creative displays include the father, Matathias, his five sons (Eliezer, Simon, Jon, Jonathan, and of course Judah), an oil can small enough for just one day's worth, an owl (it's Temple, after all), and an elephant, all gathered in the beautifully rededicated Temple University, Jerusalem campus quad.

Doug Brook is a technical writer in Silicon Valley. Why Temple University? Obvious answer aside, how could it not be a university based, in honor of the five brothers of the Hanukkah story, in the city of brotherly love? For more information, past columns, other writing, and other current events, visit his website at http://carfax.cnc.net/.