Holiday music, pageants help make season

I’ve always liked holiday music, and it doesn’t really matter to me if it’s old or new, though I prefer the classics from crooners like Bing Crosby, Nat “King” Cole and Eartha Kitt. The Ultra Hip Holiday channel on Dish is pretty cool, though every time I hear Tony Bennett singing “Winter Wonderland,” I hear Alec Baldwin’s voice mimicking Bennett’s.

I’m not a big fan of the over-the-top kitschy stuff like barking dogs or even Chipmunks, but I can deal with it once in a while.

I think it goes back to the Christmas pageants we did every year at the Catholic school I attended. Every grade did the same song and wore the same costumes each year. I think in fourth grade we all made big stockings out of poster board.

We all cut out the same J- shaped stocking and decorated them however we wanted. An artist I am not, so mine was your basic candy cane with red stripes and some cotton glued to the top.

Fifth grade was a biggie. That was the “Little Drummer Boy” year. We all had to have our own drum. Most kids bought the cheap version, which was still pretty cool, because, well, it was a drum.

We all marched around the gym/theater drumming along with the song.

I borrowed my older brother’s legit snare drum and sticks, which seemed like a really cool thing, but in reality, it was heavy and the rope I had around my neck to carry the thing was fairly uncomfortable.

The other big year was eighth grade. This was actually the biggest year, at least for a few of us. If you were smart enough to volunteer to be part of the stage crew, you essentially got to skip out on classes for what seemed like a solid month because you were required to be at rehearsal for each class.

We also staged a l ive Nativity scene, and I got to be a wise man. Most guys wore bathrobes because it was the closest thing any of us had to an outfit a Magi might wear, or at least we thought so in the South in 1976.

I, on the other hand, borrowed a thawb from my older brother’s bandmate, named Zeno. I had no idea the traditional Arabic garment was called a thawb or why he owned one (he was a Brainerd guy like the rest of us), but he had one and I wore it.

I thought it made me stand out as I walked around the gym bearing my cardboard gift of myrrh, which for all I knew was actually a fruitcake of some kind. I found out later that I did stand out, but it was because my friend Tim on the light crew chose a lovely pink filter to illuminate me for my trek onto the stage. He still laughs about it.

Barry Courter