11 posts tagged “christmas”
Every time, it seems, that the carapiccoladiva and I chat, the subject of Christmas in Cowtown arises. She'll be back in town for Christmas, and I am quite looking forward to seeing her. It's funny, but I'd be willing to bet that we've spent more time chatting/emailing/rare phone-call-ing then we have in person.
Anyway.
One of the delights of transferring music to one's MP3 player is that the diva transferring such music comes across music she hasn't heard in forever.
Take this, which is one of my favorite pieces of Christmas music. I'd love to perform it someday.
Enjoy! Remember that it is only a few months until Christmas...and that once October hits, this retail slave's take on matters Christmassy gets distinctly cynical, so enjoy a bit of Christmas spirit now!
May I quote from the jacket cover of Christmas Stalkings, a collection of mysteries gathered and contributed to by Charlotte MacLeod?
"When the days grow short and cold weather forces cranky people together in cramped quarters, certain persons often turn to thoughts of getting rid of all the other people and having the fireside to themselves.
When it becomes necessary to deplete the bank accounts through the purchase of gifts for disliked neighbors, despised employers, and thoroughly hated relatives, certain persons contemplate purchasing instead large economy-sized packages of arsenic.
The enforced gaiety of the Yuletide season only strengthens the belief (again, of certain persons) that if only the wife--husband, mother-in-law, doddering aunt--could be suddenly electrocuted by the Christmas tree, how much more jolly things could be!"
(giggling)
I've been tagged by planetbendigo to answer this meme. He got it from Empress Nasi Goreng, who got it from Maju. Here goes...
It's that most wonderful time of the year. Popular (and often correspondingly atrocious) music is everywhere. Everyone and anyone who has ever recorded anything feels compelled to inflict some tiresome, gosh-awful, or simply dreadful rendition of certain popular Christmas tunes.
(I have to keep reminding myself that it really could be worse: remember that store to which corporate sent one tape per season, and the Christmas tape was Alvin and the Chipmunks Sing Christmas?)
So, I present to you one of my favorite Christmas carols. Sit back, let it wash over you, and even let those tears come to your eyes.
First, a really excellent boys' choir:
And then.... :)
Sadly, it ain't in my budget.
I spent much of my evening getting a considerable amount of backchat from customers.
-Why don't we have Tuesday's issue of the New York Times? (Because it's Friday, you mental midget)
-Why are employees allowed to put popular magazines on hold? (Because retail slaves are people too, you cranial-rectal inversion victim)
-Why aren't we playing Christmas music? (Because if we were, this retail drone would have gone completely berserk two hours ago)
Then there was that kid who walked around asking various (female) booksellers and customers to meet him after the store closed for a coffee. He might--I exaggerate not--have been twelve. He repeatedly told at least one customer (circa ten years his senior) to "call her boyfriend and I'll beat him up." He also got behind the customer service desk and messed about with the computers, tried to get into the back room, threw merchandise and a stepstool around and generally behaved like a cross between a predator and a three-year-old. Yet Brian refused to remove him from the store, and even chastised one of the booksellers for threatening to ask the kid to leave after the kid got behind the desk for the third time.
The Christmas season playlist includes Paul Simon, Mamma Mia! (for the fourth month in a row), Tony Bennett, and Josh Groban (again). I may have to have Flamingo Dancer add the corporate music person to her hit-with-a-stick list. She could come to the US, apply the stick where necessary, and then flee back to Australia. Does Australia extradite, I wonder? Must find out.
Finally, if Cascapedia does not make a miraculous recovery by tomorrow tomorrow morning, she's going back to the vet. She isn't better, and just brought the meds I gave her right back up again. I didn't even bother trying some fluids, as if she's vomiting the antibiotics, she'll bring those fluids back up, too. Please send prayes/positive thoughts her way; I'm rather worried.
this dratted computer ate the post I tried to do earlier (words cannot express how much I dislike this infernal machine, I spent an HOUR AND A HALF on that post) so I will try again. If this post is eaten, the computer gets thrown onto the freeway in rush hour traffic.
Now then: Christmas spirit!
First, we went to midnight Mass...
themaureencorps is much too cool for all this
shewhomustbeobeyed is being tolerant of the diva and her new camera
i love ze christmas, i love ze midnight Mass, i love ze music, i love-hey! did you just take a picture of me?
Regina Caeli et Terrae
(and this camera can zoom way up over the altar!)
poinsettias on the high altar
golden light all over the altar
adoration of the shepherds
and then we went home to open a present and go to bed...
the angel on the magnificent tree (about 7 feet tall, give or take-the tree, not the angel)
and fell into bed, to get up the next morning and feed the herds of animals that are petsat, returning to open PRESENTS:
food, glorious food! (expensive, canned, once-a-year food at that)
the cosmos-dog will hate me for this (evil cackle here)
i think themaureencorps was just possessed by a zombie. amun-cat is very worried.
thelibrarian has toffee, and cosmos-dog wants some. pretty please?
this man is the biggest three stooges fan alive
i rest my case
the hat is very archie goodwin
what to get the terminator fan who has everything terminator? why, the leather-and-bronze box set from the UK, of course!
where is cosmos-dog?
all bow down in worship of the glory of shewhomustbeobeyed's new shoes
this man makes most trekkies look run of the mill. when we have "enterprise" tree ornaments...
all she wanted for christmas was an exercise mat on which to practice her nunchuck skills-AND SHE GOT IT!
after much present-opening and eating of turkey, i got dressed to go sing gregorian chant at my beloved tridentine Latin Mass:
in texas, roses bloom at Christmas, and I have proof!
the reading of the epistle
silence really is beautiful sometimes
why, why, WHY did so many churches tear out their communion rails and high altars? this is too beautiful!
what it's really all about
oh, I had a wonderful Christmas! It was spent with "chosen family," laughter, fun, smiles and love. Also many darling pussycats and puppydogs, who had about twice as much turkey as was good for them (they were out cold all day). While it didn't snow, there were roses. I sang and sang, and there was incense and chant and all that is lovely. And then I returned to the house for more turkey and chocolate and banana bread and hot cocoa. doesn't get much better!
I hope you all had as merry and blessed and peaceful and beautiful a Christmas as I did.
And remember, Christmas is not technically over until the 6th of January (Twelfth Night, or Epiphany), so feel no guilt about continuing the festivities until then! (err, unless you're trying to run and lose weight, in which case homemade eggnog may be a remarkably bad idea).
Merry Christmas!
In the Catholic Church, particularly in the Tridentine (old Latin) Rite, Advent is a time of quiet preparation. Indeed, it is almost mournful. The churches are not particularly decorated; the vestments and altar linens are purple, the color of mourning. The Gloria is not spoken or sung. Music is quiet and reflectful; the usual chants are replaced with more minor ones.
This hymn below (pardon the fuzzy sound and video; apparantly this was taped about 20 years ago) expresses both musically and lyrically what Christmas Eve is to me. It is a reaching of a destination, of a time of quiet peace and glory before the shout of Christmas. In short, it is much like the stable must have been like before the shepherds arrived.
The hymn is a poetical English translation of the ancient chant Corde Natus Ex Parentis.
May that same peace fill you all this Christmastide.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
(thanks to Clement C. Moore)
So now that that's put you in the mood for Christmas Eve, you can watch Santa's progress on NORAD's radar. This so cool! (oh, I am so easily amused)
well, sort of.
This customer walks into the music department and asks me to help him find a CD.
Ordinarily, it drives me a bit batty when any customer prefaces any request with something along the line of "I don't know the name of the artist"/"I'm not sure what song it was but it had the word 'love' in it"/"I'm not sure what genre it is; it could be heavy metal, but it might be new age" or (my personal favorite, and one that I've actually gotten) "Do you sell CDs?". For this guy I made an exception.
He (incidentally, this was a big dude--well over six feet, a good 250-275, ponytail, looked kind of bikerish) handed me a slip of paper on which was written a name and what appeared to be a song title. The handwriting made mine look copperplate. And I've been told several times that if I wanted to be a doctor, I'd already have the handwriting for it. But I digress.
Then he said, "I've been to three different stores and none of them can find this guy or this song. My son really wants to get this for his girlfriend for Christmas."
(Okay, this piques my curiosity. I mean, who sends his dad out shopping for his girlfriend?)
So I search for the artist's name, based on what I am deciphering from the paper. No dice. As I continue to search (trying all kinds of different variations on the name and song title) I chat with the dad. All we know for certain is that this music is probably country. And since I know very little about country music and the dad knows NOTHING ("I''m strictly a metal and rock man, myself,") this is gonna take some time. Turns out his son is in Afghanistan and won't be home for Christmas, but he wants his girlfriend to get this cd because she loves country music.
Finally I find an artist with the same last name but a somewhat different (same first initial) first name. The artist has a recording (which we do have) that features a song that is almost identical to the song named on this scrap of paper. I get the cd, and hand it to the dad. All of a sudden, this big tough biker guy gets really quiet. Then he says, "That has t'be it. Except for the long hair, that guy looks just like my son. Looks like his momma, God rest her soul. No wonder she wants this. She'll be so surprised to get this; they decided to wait to do presents 'til he got back!"
Then he reaches over and gives me a hug and says, "Thanks for finding this; you did a great job. You tell your manager he needs to pay you more! Merry Christmas!"
It's amazing how many opportunities I get to touch people's lives, both on the bookfloor and in music. I get to recommend books for people who want to get "baby's first books." About a month ago, I helped a woman pick out an audio book for her mom, who was dying of cancer but still wanted a book for her birthday. Then today, I got to make sure that some service member (whether Army, Navy or Marine I'll never know, and it doesn't matter) was able to tell his girlfriend "Merry Christmas." Today I also helped a coworker keep an eye on a kid with Down's for a few minutes (very well-behaved kid who is in the store all the time) so his parents could grab a quick cup of coffee in the cafe. (No, I doubt that corporate would approve, but y'know what? We had no other customers, the parents were in the building, and the parents know my coworker.).
There are times when I hate customer service with a passion. I know for a fact that I can't do this for the rest of my life or I would go stark raving mad from irritation and boredom. However, there are moments--like when I helped that guy today, or when, a month ago, I got that woman's mom the perfect gift--when I know that I've brought joy into the lives and eased the pain (even if just by saying "I'm sorry" and handing her a book of which she had good memories that included her mom) of a few people.
And that's something I really want to accomplish with my music. Music has the power to make people smile, to lighten loads, to bring joy, to diminish pain, to bring healing tears--for the musician and for others around her. To quote a Joseph Martin song I sang in high school (this song, oddly enough, has stuck in my head to the point that it has become something of a mantra):
Let music never die in me! Forever let my spirit sing!
Just had to post about the incredible party I went to last Friday. La Maestra hosted a mob of divas, divos, music afficionados and various other fun people at a caroling party. There were, as the title states, many carols, much food, dozens of divas, and the gabbing had to be heard to be believed. In short, an excellent time was had by all--in this diva's case, 'til a bit past three in the morning. What can I say? Post-cleanup (a side note: only this bunch could still look extremely diva-istic while up to their elbows in soapsuds, dishcloths and plasticware), which involved yoga posing, wine and hugs, we were sufficiently peckish to haul out some excellent cheese and proceeded to munch and talk for another couple of hours. Then the trip home (amazing how much faster one can go on certain roads when there is NO TRAFFIC), a quick call-in to Diva Central ("yes, I'm alive and home, goodnight"), and the collapse into bed, from which I did not emerge until noon.
I feel so very blessed, and so very loved, and so very full of love for these wonderful people around me. I've never been this happy. I am surrounded by wonderful people who I care about and who care about me, and we all love great music and help to make it-and what more could one want?
signed,
the deliriously happy diva, who now must run to work to become, in the recent words of the head cashier who knew NOTHING of how the word diva is used at my school, the "cashwrap diva"
