Merry Birthday

A week from today I will turn *cough*-ty *cough*. Darn this wretched chest cold!

Yes, I was born on a Friday, Christmas Eve, early in the morning (5:51? Mom, help me out here) and I'm quite certain there was snow on the ground, if not falling from the sky. I wasn't due until a few days later, but clearly I decided I'd had enough of the ovarian bastille.

And thus began years of Merry Birthdays.

Honestly though, I have to give my parents huge kudos. As a kid, they always celebrated my birthday on my birthday (we celebrated Christmas on the 25th). My grandparents and aunt and cousins would come over and we'd have cake and nuts and cookies and punch and the grownups would drink coffee and everyone would sing "Happy Birthday" and I'd open birthday cards and presents wrapped in birthday paper. And to me, it felt like the same celebration my brothers got. Well, except for maybe the tree in the living room. And the poinsettias.

Kids I knew talked about the post-birthday "let down," when the cake had been eaten, the presents had all been unwrapped and played with and everyone had gone home, and they had to wait until... *SIGH* ...Christmas to get presents again.

Let down? What let down??? I GOT TWO DAYS IN A ROW OF PRESENTS! GLORIOUS MYSTERIES WRAPPED IN PAPER AND TIED WITH RIBBON! TWICE IN TWO DAYS!

Who cares if I never got a birthday party with my friends because my birthday was on the biggest national holiday of the year and they already had plans with their families and our driveway and road were usually snowed in anyway and celebrating my half birthday wasn't really an option since everyone was on summer vacation!?!?!

Seriously, that second day of presents was premium. It didn't make any difference to me that it was the motherload of gifts for the entire year. It just meant I started counting down to my birthday and Christmas a little earlier than most kids. Like, in January.

Often throughout my life, people have -- and still do -- comment, "Aw, Christmas baby. Poor thing. Merry Birthday!"

So original.

But really, I don't mind being a Christmas baby. I haven't known anything else. All the important people in my life have acknowledged the day of my birth apart from the birth of Jesus. And I wouldn't even mind if they didn't! I will happily share the day and the spotlight. Only as an adult did I start to get "combo" presents, and I will occasionally get a holiday card with "Happy Birthday too" written inside. But I don't mind. Much.

When I think how easily my parents could have lumped my day in with Christmas, the more I appreciate the fact that they didn't, and to the contrary, tried really hard to make sure it was a special day for me. (Except one year when I got a riding horse -- the kind with springs -- for both birthday and Christmas, and it was the most favorite toy I ever got in my LIFE and I totally didn't mind and I named him Silver, like the Lone Ranger's horse. H'yaaah!)

So Merry Birthday to me and Baby Jesus and all others who share the day. It's not a bad one to have.

James Orchard Halliwell's adaptation of the familiar English nursery rhyme:

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on Christmas Day,

Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

A "White Christmas" review worth reading

The Richmond.com review of Barksdale Theatre's production of Irving Berlin's White Christmas got me revved up. I disagreed with many of the reviewer's observations, several of which I thought were rather absurd, as I voiced in my recent BLAHG post.

However, this morning, I was thrilled to read a review on RVANews.com that FINALLY accurately describes the show that I saw a few weekends ago. I hope you'll take time to read the whole thing, but here is a snippet:

Kevin Earley & Freddie Kimmel - Photo by Aaron Sutten

You’ve seen the classic film ... And this season, you’re cordially invited to rediscover the vintage spirit at Barksdale Theatre with, if you can believe it, even more spectacular song and dance numbers than the film’s Golden Era producers saw fit to include ... 

Almost everything out of [the cast members'] mouths had the house rolling, and by the time the grand finale swoops in with the most elaborate costumes yet, you’re so amped up from the jokes, the reunions, the glitter, and the talent, you’ll fall gratefully into the holiday classic to end all holiday classics, “White Christmas” ... 

[T]he whole production is a wistful reminder that, in the Fifties, shows were just so dang elegant, comedy was so uncluttered, the clothes, good lord, the clothes. And, with its historic feel and intimate setting, the Empire Theatre is just the place to make the whole thing pop ... 

White Christmas does exactly what it sets out to do: provide you with a couple of hours jam-packed with holiday festivities. The show’s lone disappointment occurs when the lights come up and it’s time to face 2010 again.

Thank you, Susan Howson, for your wonderful description of what, no doubt, is in the heart of every Richmonder who sees this production, including mine.

  

A "White Christmas" review rebuttal

Increasingly, the holidays seem to bring out the Grinch in people.

I was reminded of the Grinch Phenomenon when I read Liz Jewett's review on Richmond.com of Barksdale Theatre's production of Irving Berlin's White Christmas.

Ms. Jewett is a thoughtful and eloquent writer and I often agree with her reviews. And while I didn't disagree with some of her observations in this one, I believe she inappropriately and needlessly inserted her own Grinchy commentary by attacking elements of the show that do not necessitate comment. Like the fact that a Christmas show is typically cheery and upbeat. No-brainer, right?

Well.....

Illustration by Robert Meganck

"'White Christmas' [is] an attempt at a timeless, feel good Christmas story. Yet instead of timeless, the play merely feels static and stubbornly anachronistic, largely because of its insistence on 'old-fashioned' cheer to the point of a sugar coma.

"There’s a world of honest, human emotion that 'White Christmas' could have tapped into. It’s a play about two veterans after all, men who have seen death and violence, only to come home to a society that honors them more for being famous than for having fought. Yet any hint at a darker world that isn’t bedecked in tinsel is smothered in a holiday spirit so aggressive it practically berates the audience into following along."

It seems Ms. Jewett might be expecting some coal in her stocking this year.

Um........................................................... 

IT'S IRVING BERLIN'S WHITE CHRISTMAS!

Bing Crosby, Rosemary Clooney -- remember?!

This production isn't supposed to be the holiday musical version of "Saving Private Ryan." It is supposed to be a festive, celebratory occasion where the characters are intentionally forgetting about death, violence and that "darker world" by singing, dancing, and romancing. Punishing a famous holiday classic for not being serious enough seems a bit harsh.

I sat in the audience the same night Ms. Jewett did, next to two patrons whose preferred venue is Hanover Tavern. However, they enjoyed every single moment of White Christmas at the Empire Theatre, and I frequently heard murmurs of "wow," "fantastic," "outstanding." I'm fairly confident that I can speak for all three of us when I say we didn't feel one bit berated. To the contrary, we let the holiday spirit fall upon us of our own accord.

Perhaps the most Grinch-like sentiments came at the end of Ms. Jewett's review:

"...holiday spirit only works if it's coming from a genuine place, an honest place, and 'White Christmas,' despite the best efforts of all involved, ultimately chooses fake snow over the real thing. And it insults the audience by assuming they won’t know the difference."

This is metaphoric, but only to a degree. She is, of course, making reference to the snow that falls on the audience at the end of the show. It is not confetti, but more like dime-sized foamy puffs that evaporate before they hit the floor. I (and everyone around me) thought it was magical. I heard one patron say, "It's snowing in the Empire!"

Did they think it was real snow? Of course not. Did they feel that the show's positive energy and Christmas spirit were disingenuous or contrived? Doubtful. Did they leave the theatre that night, thinking they had seen an outstanding Broadway caliber feel-good holiday production? Absolutely.

Photo by Aaron Sutten

Christmas is about giving and sharing, a time when people come together and celebrate, when lightheartedness and kindness prevail. It is the one time of year when we have permission to forget about the ugliness in our world and instead, focus on its beauty.

If this show gives people the chance to escape the pressures and demands of their daily lives; if it gives them a pleasant distraction from the reality of loss and hardship; if it brings back fond memories of holidays spent with loved ones.... then I believe Barksdale's production of White Christmas is successfully embodying the spirit of the holiday season, and I sincerely believe the majority of Richmonders who see this show would enthusiastically agree.

The good news is that even the Grinch discovered the meaning behind the hoopla of Christmas. So certainly, Ms. Jewett will as well.

He puzzled and puzzled 

till his puzzler was sore. 

Then the Grinch thought of something 

he hadn't before! 

Maybe Christmas, he thought, 

doesn't come from a store. 

Maybe Christmas... perhaps... 

means a little bit more! 

And what happened then?

Well, in Whoville they say

that the Grinch's small heart 

grew three sizes that day. 

And then -- the true meaning 

of Christmas came through, 

and the Grinch found the strength 

of *ten* Grinches, plus two!