It is the day after Thanksgiving - what used to be the official start of the holiday season....I won't go into a dissertation about how much earlier everything starts...yadda yadda. It's true I officially start listening (albeit sporadically) to Christmas music on October 15 but I don't jump in to Black Friday sales, or Thanksgiving Day decorating so I don't know if I should be labeled a traditionalist or a non-conformist when it comes to all things Christmas.
But in terms of the music - I just might be a purist. There are certain things that just need to....or NOT to...happen with Christmas music.
The song, "White Christmas" should not be sung for performance by anybody other than Bing Crosby. Period. Oh....or me. Likewise, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" should primarily be the Gene Autry recording....or a bunch of elementary students (without the underwear line, please). Oh.....or me. "Chestnuts Roasting..." should be Nat King Cole...or ok - even Johnny Mathis....or me. Sidebar - I had a friend in college who insisted Johnny Mathis Christmas music was the best makeout music ever. There's just so much I could say about that....but that would get me off track and I have a tough enough time staying focused.
There are other things that are just wrong with so much of the music played at Christmas time. Barbra Streisand singing Ave Maria. Really? I'm sorry I just have a bit of an issue with making a buck from someone else's religion. I'm not making any plans to record or even perform Adam Sandler's Hanukah song. Don't get me wrong- I love Barbra. Always have. But c'mon, Barb - that's just tacky. Oh and speaking of tacky - Harry Connick Jr.'s song, "I Pray on Christmas" - I love Harry. And of course I'm not opposed to praying - but the lyrics of the song are so dang stupid and meaningless it's like fingernails on a chalkboard to listen to it. I wouldn't even sing that one. And I would do almost anything to have my own Christmas special. Now Harry does have a nice jazzy arrangement of Rudolph that I rather like. And when he asks, "What are You Doing New Year's Eve" - I want to run and check my calendar. I think he and I could do a smokin duet on that one! I mentioned Bing earlier - though he has (well, had) a voice like melted chocolate fudge - his recording of Adeste Fidelis should just not have ever happened. Sounds sort of like a chicken got stuck in his throat. A whole one.
And if we're going to play Christmas music folks, for goodness sake - can we make sure that the station is properly tuned in?? Just another reason to boycott Walmart. :)
And who in the world ever decided that "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music is a Christmas song?? Just because it mentions snowflakes on noses and eyelashes (where incidentally snowflakes do NOT stay unless you're already frozen stiff in which case why the heck would it be one of your favorite things?!)?
While I'm on a song elimination paragraph, let's just throw in Feliz Navidad - not because I am culturally insensitive - but because it's a horrid sounding song. I am more than happy to flush the John Lennon one also. And "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer". Why on earth kids think this is so funny is beyond me. Anything Elvis has to go too. And "The Christmas Shoes"- why don't I just gouge my eyes and heart out with the same pitchfork on THAT one?! I have a whole list. But to include it here might cause you to believe I'm just a big Bah Humbug. Which I'm not - not by any stretch. But I do think some class and decorum is in order for something about which I am so passionate - Christmas.
I have been chagrined this season to discover that so many songs on so many of the CDs I have are either pointless, in poor religious taste, horrible arrangements, or poorly performed. There's just one solution - I need to make my own recording. With many guests.....like - I want Barry Manilow to re-record "Baby It's Cold Outside" (incidentally the purist points out that this song has nothing to do with Christmas)....and I would do anything with Michael Buble..... I meant songs .... what were YOU thinking?? I think I need a little appearance from Steven Curtis Chapman or Chris Tomlin as well. If I could think of a woman who wouldn't upstage me, I'd invite her......Oh - and a little accompaniment here and there from The Boston Pops. And some back up singing by The Mormon Tabernacle Choir ......or does that violate my religion rule for Christmas music? Not sure - ok let's make it the Vienna Boys Choir. We definitely need a number by the Sisters of Soiree - an original composition I think - that's sure to become a classic - and lastly - and most importantly there would definitely be an engineered recording mixing me with some recordings of my dad. He was by far, my favorite person to hear singing things like "O Holy Night" or "Gesu Bambino." I would give anything to sing a duet with him again.
So I will be sure to let you know the release date of my first Christmas CD. And where and when to tune in for my Christmas special. Although I would gladly just accept an invitation to appear on Christmas in Washington. Or maybe I'll just go put on a show in the streets of downtown State College. Sometimes to get a done right - ya gotta do it yourself! ;)
Friday, November 26, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The Upside of Down
Important Disclaimer - this post is not intended to diminish the real pain experienced by someone with clinical depression. It is merely an attempt to find the silver lining in a really crappy day.
I took a sick day the other day because I got home quite late from rehearsal (that being the holiday classic Miracle on 34th Street) with a sore throat. I thought if I got lots of sleep I could kick it in the butt and go on with the show! Awakening after a whopping 4 hours of sleep, and unable to return to slumberland, I found myself, as the Grinch says "leaking" - that dreadful escaping of liquids from the tear ducts and possibly every other opening on the face, including enlarged pores.
This lovely process ensued for about 5 hours, on and off....and though it is not necessary to explain why I was experiencing a Niagara of soul tears....I must share some of the insights that came during this day of being so low that not even a Christmas movie or chocolate held any attraction whatsoever. I know, right?
So here's what I found out.....
- apparently the constant crying, blowing, honking and sobbing have the capacity to move that virus causing the sore throat to ease on down the road. It was incredible. The sore throat was gone. Never mind that many other symptoms moved in to take its place.
- one of those symptoms was the puffy eyes. And I thought to myself - hey this is like free botox! Too bad we can't cry around the lips .... :/
- on this day, the scale was suddenly a little friendlier. I had actually lost 2 1/2 pounds! I guess that's what happens when your heart goes so far south that a trip to the kitchen to scavenge for even the most classic of comfort/stress foods seems like an aerobic workout. And my costumes were actually looser that night.....but do I really want to stay in that state just so the red dress looks good? Hmmm a conundrum for sure.
- people will stay out of your way. When you've got that look on your face that's a combination of Attila the Hun and a child whose balloon just popped, they just don't want to take the chance of unleashing whatever lurks beneath the surface. Heck, they don't even comment that you're quite late for your final dress rehearsal. Too bad that doesn't work in the workplace.
- Kaia will never leave me to suffer alone. Sometimes she watched me from across the room....sometimes she just sat beside me on the couch....and once I even got the special spa treatment of a canine nostril cleansing. Now that's love.
I took a sick day the other day because I got home quite late from rehearsal (that being the holiday classic Miracle on 34th Street) with a sore throat. I thought if I got lots of sleep I could kick it in the butt and go on with the show! Awakening after a whopping 4 hours of sleep, and unable to return to slumberland, I found myself, as the Grinch says "leaking" - that dreadful escaping of liquids from the tear ducts and possibly every other opening on the face, including enlarged pores.
This lovely process ensued for about 5 hours, on and off....and though it is not necessary to explain why I was experiencing a Niagara of soul tears....I must share some of the insights that came during this day of being so low that not even a Christmas movie or chocolate held any attraction whatsoever. I know, right?
So here's what I found out.....
- apparently the constant crying, blowing, honking and sobbing have the capacity to move that virus causing the sore throat to ease on down the road. It was incredible. The sore throat was gone. Never mind that many other symptoms moved in to take its place.
- one of those symptoms was the puffy eyes. And I thought to myself - hey this is like free botox! Too bad we can't cry around the lips .... :/
- on this day, the scale was suddenly a little friendlier. I had actually lost 2 1/2 pounds! I guess that's what happens when your heart goes so far south that a trip to the kitchen to scavenge for even the most classic of comfort/stress foods seems like an aerobic workout. And my costumes were actually looser that night.....but do I really want to stay in that state just so the red dress looks good? Hmmm a conundrum for sure.
- people will stay out of your way. When you've got that look on your face that's a combination of Attila the Hun and a child whose balloon just popped, they just don't want to take the chance of unleashing whatever lurks beneath the surface. Heck, they don't even comment that you're quite late for your final dress rehearsal. Too bad that doesn't work in the workplace.
- Kaia will never leave me to suffer alone. Sometimes she watched me from across the room....sometimes she just sat beside me on the couch....and once I even got the special spa treatment of a canine nostril cleansing. Now that's love.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Well, I tried.
A few weeks ago I mentioned on Facebook that I was going to do a blog post entitled "Well, I tried." How appropriate is that title since it is now significantly later than I anticipated and the post has not yet (until now anyway) appeared. So I guess that would be my first "well, I tried" item on the list. The recent days have simply not had enough hours in them. Though I am pretty sure if I had more hours to spend, somehow the stuff to do would also expand proportionately - if not exponentially.
I originally thought of doing this post on a day when I decided that if my current role in a play requires me to be at least a decade younger than what my birth certificate says, I should do all I can to appear that way. So I dug out my anti-wrinkle eye cream and slathered it on before heading off to work. Less than two miles down the road, I found myself wiping tears from my cheeks -and hardly able to see the road... not because of the beauty of the Christmas music playing in the car, nor from some deep heartache or even because I had to go to work. If only! Nope. It was then that I realized that eye cream was going on 4 years old! ooops. Well, I tried - to look younger and vibrant and wrinkle free. What I got was the look of a doll head carved out of an apple and left to dry and shrivel.
Next I volunteered to bring beverages to the gathering of the Bible study group. I grabbed a gallon of cider and several 2 litre bottles of assorted sodas. I was just so excited at the sale price, I guess. I found myself leaving the group with almost all full bottles of soda. I had thought that with all the running I've been doing lately, I could at LEAST manage drinks without incident. Well, I tried. I just forgot that we are about the only ones in the group who drink the evil stuff.
Then there was the evening I tried to go see a friend in her play. I had had this on my calendar for weeks. So the evening arrives and I think I even showered! I headed in to enjoy the show, only to find the building empty and one other person wandering around scratching his head as to why there wasn't more activity for a show that was to be starting in 10 minutes. A quick call home to have someone recheck the facebook page revealed that the show had been moved to 2:00 so as not to conflict with the only real important thing in town (said with tongue inserted very firmly into cheek): Penn State football. I ended up heading across town to catch a performance of Dracula - but that's another story.
My next attempt at Well, I tried was to help a friend and her family. They had lost their beloved Mom/Grammy and I decided I would take some food over. With my schedule having its usual overbooked status, I called Olive Garden and ordered a pan of lasagne and a salad. I tried not to bat an (still wrinkled) eye at the price tag of over $50 ..not to mention the fact that the pan of lasagne supposedly containing service for 6-8 would barely crank out 3 servings of the way MY family eats lasagne, but the real kicker came in the lasagne being overbaked. I really did try - this one wasn't my fault.
I don't believe the next episode was my fault either. I was called to the high school to help with grief counseling for the girls' basketball team who had lost their coach. I sincerely wanted to help. I've known the majority of those girls since they stepped their little sneaker and patent leather mary jane bedecked feet into their kindergarten classrooms many years ago. Some of them were my peer mediators. Some of them were my drama students. Some of them were in my office for help with friend problems, family problems or school problems over the years. But over the course of the two days when they were hurting and I longed to help them, I might as well have been Medusah. My words were met with glares - but if a high school teacher stepped into the room and said exactly the same thing, they hung onto their every word. It didn't help when one student told me they only came to school because they were told there would be Grief Counselors available! um, hello? Though cognitively I knew it wasn't personal it certainly didn't feel anything but. Well, I tried.
Next came the first night of rehearsal "off book". It's been awhile since I've sweated the off book phase from the stage. Usually I've been in the audience seats as director..dreading the time when all actors must put the script down! And fighting against my natural urges to let them pick them up for yet another day....or week. Because I am afraid I may just one day go ahead and gouge my eyes out with an ice pick after all! So I am onstage - with one of my former drama students mind you....and I'm stepping on people's lines....and dropping my lines...and missing entrances. And feeling progressively more horrible with every flub up. But the reason the entrances are being missed is because I'm having too darn much fun backstage with fellow actors! Now doesn't THAT make sense! I'm miserable because I'm having fun? Well, I tried.
Tonight we were heading out to the Straight No Chaser show. I decided to "feel pretty" and spritzed a bit of Beautiful cologne to make myself enticing, intoxicating, less stinky. As I sit here, 5 1/2 hours later, my eyes are still burning and watering and I have a headache. No, I'm not THAT sentimental! A bit of quick math revealed that the bottle is 6 years old. I wonder if I have learned my lesson about old cosmetics? I'll let you know next week when I put on my opening night make up....
Without going into detail about the countless other attempts at catching up on dishes, laundry, decluttering (more accurately, driving a backhoe through the piles), paperwork or any other chore du jour - I have come to the realization that we are, at any given point always at least giving things our best try. And sometimes we hit the jackpot and it works. But more often, I think that being able to honestly say, "Well, I tried" is equally as noble and successful.
I originally thought of doing this post on a day when I decided that if my current role in a play requires me to be at least a decade younger than what my birth certificate says, I should do all I can to appear that way. So I dug out my anti-wrinkle eye cream and slathered it on before heading off to work. Less than two miles down the road, I found myself wiping tears from my cheeks -and hardly able to see the road... not because of the beauty of the Christmas music playing in the car, nor from some deep heartache or even because I had to go to work. If only! Nope. It was then that I realized that eye cream was going on 4 years old! ooops. Well, I tried - to look younger and vibrant and wrinkle free. What I got was the look of a doll head carved out of an apple and left to dry and shrivel.
Next I volunteered to bring beverages to the gathering of the Bible study group. I grabbed a gallon of cider and several 2 litre bottles of assorted sodas. I was just so excited at the sale price, I guess. I found myself leaving the group with almost all full bottles of soda. I had thought that with all the running I've been doing lately, I could at LEAST manage drinks without incident. Well, I tried. I just forgot that we are about the only ones in the group who drink the evil stuff.
Then there was the evening I tried to go see a friend in her play. I had had this on my calendar for weeks. So the evening arrives and I think I even showered! I headed in to enjoy the show, only to find the building empty and one other person wandering around scratching his head as to why there wasn't more activity for a show that was to be starting in 10 minutes. A quick call home to have someone recheck the facebook page revealed that the show had been moved to 2:00 so as not to conflict with the only real important thing in town (said with tongue inserted very firmly into cheek): Penn State football. I ended up heading across town to catch a performance of Dracula - but that's another story.
My next attempt at Well, I tried was to help a friend and her family. They had lost their beloved Mom/Grammy and I decided I would take some food over. With my schedule having its usual overbooked status, I called Olive Garden and ordered a pan of lasagne and a salad. I tried not to bat an (still wrinkled) eye at the price tag of over $50 ..not to mention the fact that the pan of lasagne supposedly containing service for 6-8 would barely crank out 3 servings of the way MY family eats lasagne, but the real kicker came in the lasagne being overbaked. I really did try - this one wasn't my fault.
I don't believe the next episode was my fault either. I was called to the high school to help with grief counseling for the girls' basketball team who had lost their coach. I sincerely wanted to help. I've known the majority of those girls since they stepped their little sneaker and patent leather mary jane bedecked feet into their kindergarten classrooms many years ago. Some of them were my peer mediators. Some of them were my drama students. Some of them were in my office for help with friend problems, family problems or school problems over the years. But over the course of the two days when they were hurting and I longed to help them, I might as well have been Medusah. My words were met with glares - but if a high school teacher stepped into the room and said exactly the same thing, they hung onto their every word. It didn't help when one student told me they only came to school because they were told there would be Grief Counselors available! um, hello? Though cognitively I knew it wasn't personal it certainly didn't feel anything but. Well, I tried.
Next came the first night of rehearsal "off book". It's been awhile since I've sweated the off book phase from the stage. Usually I've been in the audience seats as director..dreading the time when all actors must put the script down! And fighting against my natural urges to let them pick them up for yet another day....or week. Because I am afraid I may just one day go ahead and gouge my eyes out with an ice pick after all! So I am onstage - with one of my former drama students mind you....and I'm stepping on people's lines....and dropping my lines...and missing entrances. And feeling progressively more horrible with every flub up. But the reason the entrances are being missed is because I'm having too darn much fun backstage with fellow actors! Now doesn't THAT make sense! I'm miserable because I'm having fun? Well, I tried.
Tonight we were heading out to the Straight No Chaser show. I decided to "feel pretty" and spritzed a bit of Beautiful cologne to make myself enticing, intoxicating, less stinky. As I sit here, 5 1/2 hours later, my eyes are still burning and watering and I have a headache. No, I'm not THAT sentimental! A bit of quick math revealed that the bottle is 6 years old. I wonder if I have learned my lesson about old cosmetics? I'll let you know next week when I put on my opening night make up....
Without going into detail about the countless other attempts at catching up on dishes, laundry, decluttering (more accurately, driving a backhoe through the piles), paperwork or any other chore du jour - I have come to the realization that we are, at any given point always at least giving things our best try. And sometimes we hit the jackpot and it works. But more often, I think that being able to honestly say, "Well, I tried" is equally as noble and successful.
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