You know I want to go. I'd really like to have my picture taken with Santa pushing me into the crematorium chamber. It would make a great Christmas Card.
I've had this old ad in my files for awhile now I can finally use it: (no, I'm not going to tell you where the punctuation is in that sentence, thank you.) I've no idea where it's from, but it does seem to have the right Brattleboro holiday spirit.
In yesterday's Reformer there was a picture accompanying a story about a crime wave on Flat street. The color printing was a bit off. Taken on a rainy day, it has that great noir quality that conjures up Bernard Herrmann and a milieu far removed from Brattleboro, well, between fogs and 100 year appearances anyway. Yet noir is perfect for Brattleboro, and vice and versa. So I scanned and monkeyed around with the pic a bit...
Down the street behind the photographer and around the corner one can find the New England Youth Theater, currently opening its production of A Christmas Carol. It is directed by a clown. Literally. In yesterday's paper, there was a promo write up of the show. Big orange letters in the black surrounding a kid in a suggestion of Victorian garb proclaims, "Occupy Scrooge".
Over at the Congregational Church, they already had their annual group sing in of Handel's Messiah. It doesn't get much press, it's one of those things that just is. It's very Brattleboro. Staged by a group of friends of music from nearby Guilford, the lead vocal performances go to semi and professionals. The rest of the oratorio is sung by whomever shows up. Bring your own score. And people do. I've always wanted to go, but I've either been working, couldn't raise admission (now by donation), or forgot it was happening. Here's a You Tube clip from last year, filmed via a cell phone in a most properly annoying arty Brattleboro 2010 fashion:
There's plenty of other Brattleboro seasonal celebrations, but it's getting late and I have to be at work at 6:45am Saturday. There's a few stories to tell from there, too. My favorite "you're lucky you're still living award" nomination so far went to a late middle aged bleached blond Pillsbury dough-ball guy at the register who struck up a conversation with the woman in line after him. He wouldn't stop talking long enough to pay attention to the fact that I'd rung his purchases and was attempting to get his attention and payment. The people in line after them were moving into post scrunchy face mode. He was the discussing something only he knew how to do properly, there is a trick after all to making a proper plum pudding, You have to - well, we shouldn't be discussing this in pub-lic... (tilt of head towards my humble self)...
To be continued....
3 comments:
I think I know who the lucky to be alive guy is. All so Brattleboro. This morning my aide heard an ad for Santa at the funeral home and almost puked with laughter. She'd never heard it before, has lived in Putney for 24 years.
And I too have yet to make it to the Messiah Sing at the Congo. 0 for 17.
While I was writing the lucky to be alive award nomination story, I had an odd feeling that you would know to whom I was referring...
It could be one of three; since I haven't seen any of them for a while, and one always had bleach blond hair I'm wondering which. 3 annoying chefs... all lucky to be alive, really.
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