Christmas can be a stressful time of year; what with gift shopping, long queues everywhere, and prolonged exposure to relatives and/or Brussels sprouts. So to bring a bit of merriment to the situation, we thought we’d go carol singing as a random act of Christmas kindness.
When planning to go Carol singing, one must consider
In the end, we decided to go Caroling at local retirement centres because we believed the elderly would truly appreciate festive jazz hands. Plus they are the generation least likely to unleash vicious dogs on us if they think we’re rubbish.
As we gathered in the retirement centre dining hall, it became exceedingly apparent that I was severely under dressed - not in the public streaker sense of the word, but as in the ‘I don’t look like an ambassador for the North Pole’ sense. So I borrowed some Christmas decorations from a nearby tree and duly bedecked myself. When it comes to Christmas fashion, there is a very fine line between ‘Yuletide merriment’ and ‘Christmas elves on crack,’ and as a group we were most definitely enjoying a distinct Yuletide vogue.
I peeked into the lounge area and saw about 30 elderly people seated in there drinking a Sherry (not the same one, they each had their own). And at that moment a sudden nervousness came upon me - firstly, because I’d never performed vocally in front of an audience before and secondly, because I’m afraid of hairspray. There’s just something vaguely sinister about a beauty product that can convert soft, flowing locks into a form of fiberglass.
Once the audience was properly tippled, we went in and were widely well received with smiles, scattered applause, and even the occasional, “Ooh don’t you look wonderful, dear” (but that could have just been the Sherry talking). So we passed around the Christmas carol booklets which, in retrospect, really was more of a token gesture than a practical tool as the font size was so small, they would have needed personal telescopes to actually read those lyrics.
The moment was pregnant with expectation and with the first strum of the guitar, we were off! We wished them a merry Christmas, we decked the halls, we longed for a white Christmas, we harked with herald angels, and even took requests... sadly one request from a charming lady was to 'tone it down,' but this did not dampen our Christmas spirits! Spurred on by some smiles and contented claps, we surged ahead gaining what can only be described as a uncanny Il Divo flavor as we continued.
I had always considered Christmas Caroling (and the Macarena) to be more insufferable as a spectator activity than banking, the opera, long haul trucking, or watching ice cubes form. But these people appeared, on the whole, to be loving it! An enthusiastic lady at the back merrily conducted us through the entire repertoire at the same lively - albeit entirely unrelated - pace. There was one lady whose Christmas carol alertness was somewhat questionable because she happily sang the words to ‘Away in A Manger’ for every single Carol (I blame the font size). And, my personal favorite, an exceptionally endearing woman harmonized with us, whilst giggling gleefully and engaging reckless amounts of eye contact. Of course there were a few men present, but they seemed less invested in the experience, with expressions ranging from mild interest to rampant narcolepsy.
And for that one blissful hour the Christmas stresses melted away because we were mirth makers and festive fun bringers - and all because of the wonder of caroling. Which really makes me think; to what other stressful Christmas situations could this formula be applied? Hmmm... well, don’t be alarmed if you hear me caroling to my Brussels sprouts.
- The distance you want to travel on foot
- The probability of people actually opening their front doors to you
- If you should go for modern or more traditional carols
- And whether to undergo comprehensive voice box surgery weeks beforehand.
In the end, we decided to go Caroling at local retirement centres because we believed the elderly would truly appreciate festive jazz hands. Plus they are the generation least likely to unleash vicious dogs on us if they think we’re rubbish.
As we gathered in the retirement centre dining hall, it became exceedingly apparent that I was severely under dressed - not in the public streaker sense of the word, but as in the ‘I don’t look like an ambassador for the North Pole’ sense. So I borrowed some Christmas decorations from a nearby tree and duly bedecked myself. When it comes to Christmas fashion, there is a very fine line between ‘Yuletide merriment’ and ‘Christmas elves on crack,’ and as a group we were most definitely enjoying a distinct Yuletide vogue.
I peeked into the lounge area and saw about 30 elderly people seated in there drinking a Sherry (not the same one, they each had their own). And at that moment a sudden nervousness came upon me - firstly, because I’d never performed vocally in front of an audience before and secondly, because I’m afraid of hairspray. There’s just something vaguely sinister about a beauty product that can convert soft, flowing locks into a form of fiberglass.
Once the audience was properly tippled, we went in and were widely well received with smiles, scattered applause, and even the occasional, “Ooh don’t you look wonderful, dear” (but that could have just been the Sherry talking). So we passed around the Christmas carol booklets which, in retrospect, really was more of a token gesture than a practical tool as the font size was so small, they would have needed personal telescopes to actually read those lyrics.
The moment was pregnant with expectation and with the first strum of the guitar, we were off! We wished them a merry Christmas, we decked the halls, we longed for a white Christmas, we harked with herald angels, and even took requests... sadly one request from a charming lady was to 'tone it down,' but this did not dampen our Christmas spirits! Spurred on by some smiles and contented claps, we surged ahead gaining what can only be described as a uncanny Il Divo flavor as we continued.
I had always considered Christmas Caroling (and the Macarena) to be more insufferable as a spectator activity than banking, the opera, long haul trucking, or watching ice cubes form. But these people appeared, on the whole, to be loving it! An enthusiastic lady at the back merrily conducted us through the entire repertoire at the same lively - albeit entirely unrelated - pace. There was one lady whose Christmas carol alertness was somewhat questionable because she happily sang the words to ‘Away in A Manger’ for every single Carol (I blame the font size). And, my personal favorite, an exceptionally endearing woman harmonized with us, whilst giggling gleefully and engaging reckless amounts of eye contact. Of course there were a few men present, but they seemed less invested in the experience, with expressions ranging from mild interest to rampant narcolepsy.
And for that one blissful hour the Christmas stresses melted away because we were mirth makers and festive fun bringers - and all because of the wonder of caroling. Which really makes me think; to what other stressful Christmas situations could this formula be applied? Hmmm... well, don’t be alarmed if you hear me caroling to my Brussels sprouts.
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