Embarrassing Admission #165

As soon as I learned to count money in school, I went into my little brother’s room and offered to trade him a larger amount of my “orange monies” for a smaller pile of his silver. Ha ha, sucker!

Aunt Helen and Uncle Scrooge

For Matea and me, December has become a season of theatrics, both personal and professional. First, the personal, when we “produce” a mountain of gifts, “direct” them (via FedEx) southward to various households, and finally commence some major “set design.” In the midst of all the buying, wrapping, and tinseling: Intermission. Early in the month, we attend Winter Tales. It seems surely more than twice that we have cozied into the Flynn Space with fellow Vermonters, tall hot-cider and homemade ginger cookie in hand, to be warmed by poems, songs and creative storytelling surrounding Vermont’s harshest time of year. We hear perennial favorites, like the tale of the appreciative loner Favor Johnson, who bakes delicious fruitcakes in tomato cans and distributes them to his entire town during the holidays. We hear songs and children’s poems that remind us of the warmth inside—inside ourselves, our families and our homes—that endures the biting cold outside. Each year, we have left with renewed appreciation for the hope and possibility that Old Man Winter’s visits convey.

This past weekend, we took in a double dose of holiday cheer, attending Vermont Symphony Orchestra’s Holiday Pops as well as the Nebraska Theater’s visually stunning A Christmas Carol. The VSO was impressive, and conductor Robert De Cormier stood on two thin spindles and brought forth the music with a gusto that transcended his feeble frame. The orchestra members were decidedly “Vermont,” in that they were dressed in a hodgepodge dressy-casual that residents of the state have perfected for formal events. I will say, and this may be a tip for all of you, that my great luck in getting front-row seats turned out to be more of a curse. We could see the string section and conductor fairly well, but French horn, oboe, bassoon and timpani alike were all well-hidden behind a black wall of music stands. Next year, we’ll spring for balcony seats!

Finally, Nebraska Theater’s adaptation of Dickens’ most cherished holiday tale. The company has been coming to the Flynn for 25 years (again, this was merely our second year), and the show is one of the more professional and eye-catching I’ve seen there. I highly recommend it to all next season. This heart-warming tale inspires me each year to buy the fattest goose in the shop for a deserving family...or, you know, something like that. Likewise, as I head into the second act of the Davenport holiday production, Christmas day here with the Morris clan then late Christmas festivities with South Carolina kin, I will remember to stuff the Bah, humbugs (perhaps with a ginger cookie!) and declare a few more God bless us, every ones. Or, you know, something like that.