Posts Tagged ‘Luke’

What To Do All Alone At Christmas Time: Revolutionary IMprov Prose

November 26, 2012

A single friend asked: “What do you do all alone to get in the Christmas spirit?” Drawing on my past experiences, here’s what I suggested (many of the suggestions are Seattle, WA-based, since that’s where she lives).
Here’s the video link!
Find someone with a ragtop. Have them put the top down on a crisp, cold evening… hopefully with snow (you could go to Leavenworth) (or drive down Bellevue Way right after the Toy Soldiers/Drummer concerts at BelSquare every night). Lean the passenger seat back and look up at the lights as you drive through ________ (name of location with lots of lights).Back of the Convertible Like A Snow Princess at Temple Square Have your Ella, MoTab, Frank Sinatra, Beach Boys or whatever Christmas CD playing LOUD. Wear a Santa hat and white gloves. Wave at people as you pass by. Watch them smile and wave back. If you are really brave, (and don’t mind a potential ticket), sit on the top of the back seat, like you were a Winterfest Princess.
And if you can’t find a friend with a ragtop, head down here to Utah. We’ll drive circles around Temple Square. It always works.
Just before Santa comes (late Christmas Eve), find a friend, go in their ragtop and park on a busy corner. Play your music really loud and sing. Remember: “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loudly for all to hear!” -Elf. People will join you.
Then, as Christmas Eve turns to Christmas Day, go to the front of your favorite church or place of worship and repeat/read the Christmas story from Luke. “It came to pass, in those days, a decree went out … ”
And end it at “And Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.”

Advertisements

A New Christmas Story: Revolutionary Email Prose

December 25, 2010

A friend asked me how my Christmas Eve was going. I shared what happened early on Christmas Morning (specifically, from about midnight to about 1:15 a.m.).
Some historical background: The Provo Tabernacle, owned by the LDS Church, was built as a meeting house in 1883. On the national register of historic places, it regularily had church meetings (including many my daughter went to), concerts, recitals, graduations and other similar events. The woodwork and interior were fantastic examples of pioneer craftsmanship.
On Dec. 17-18 2010, a 4-alarm fire gutted the historic building, destroying the interior and causing the roof to collapse.
As I was thinking about what to do Christmas Eve, I thought about the building, about how many Christmas concerts had been held there… and how sad it was that there wouldn’t be one this year.
So I decided to create my own. In the spirit of Art Everywhere, and the flash dance craze, I thought “I’ll go to the park next to the Tabernacle and sing Christmas carols … an improv Christmas concert.” This is what happened: It’s my Christmas story.

T’was the night before Christmas, and at 11:50 p.m. I went down to the corner of Center and University in Provo (by the Provo Tabernacle). I put the top down on my convertible, stood up on my seat, put some Christmas CDs in, and sang/caroled to the cars going by. A friend joined me; we sang loudly and not half bad. We had a lot of people smile, wave at us, and wish us a Merry Christmas. A few people even stopped and joined us. We ended with “Silent Night”, and then I receited the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke.
Then, as I was driving by the burnt-out Tabernacle, I felt prompted to stop, pull over to the side of the street in front of the Tabernacle (there being no “No Parking” signs there), stand up in my car, and tell the Christmas story, again, to the rafters and shattered windows and broken doors and blackened walls.
As the story reverberated through those walls one final time, where it had so often been heard before, I reached the part where shepherds kept watch over their flocks by night.
As I spoke how “…suddenly, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shown round about them…” a bright light shown in my own eyes.
It was the security guard with her flashlight.
I continued telling the story.
“And there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly hosts … ”
“That’s nice, but you can’t park there.”
“… praising God and saying:”
“Sir, you have to move, you can’t park your car there”
so I ended the story by looking at her, smiling, and quoting Luke:
“Glory to God on high, and on Earth, peace, good will toward men.”
And then I sat down in my car, smiled again, said “Merry Christmas!” and drove away.