‘Tis the night after Christmas, and it’s snowing! I’m watching the snow fall through my living room window, all dotted with colored reflections from the lights on my Christmas tree. I have a mug of spiced cider and a slice of homemade rum cake, which is the perfect compliment to the smoldering yule log in the fireplace. This, my friends, is holiday bliss.
Sort of. The snow is really just a light flurry, but there are white crystals whirling around outside, making me nostalgic for a kind of White Christmas that I’ve never really experienced living in the south. My Christmas tree is fake, but that’s okay because I have an evergreen-scented candle that makes it smell like the real thing. And even though I don’t have a fireplace, I do have 24-hour access to the Yule Log channel on cable during the month of December.
Before you lose all faith in my Christmas reverie, I need you to know that the rum cake I’m eating is actually homemade from a family recipe that Vann’s mother gave me. A family recipe that she found on bacardi.com. Still, I love my 21st-century, manufactured Christmas, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it!
I wasn’t sure that I would be able to find my Christmas spirit this year, what with all the literal hustle and bustle of my holiday season, but here it is, at last. When you work in the entertainment industry, bringing Christmas cheer to paying customers day after day, it can be really difficult to get yourself into the holiday spirit. When the songs that you hear in the shopping malls are the same songs that you sing every night, or when you know the guy playing Santa Clause, the whole season seems to lose its lustre.
For the past five years, I’ve been going to see a wonderful Christmas review at a theatre that my friends own and operate. This musical extravaganza is filled with carols and comedy, and brings me great joy to watch. Their performance always lights a smile on my face, and gets me in the holiday swing. This year, I was fortunate enough to be asked to join the cast, and after working some magic with my schedule, I was able to put my dancing shoes to use as a performer, instead of a teacher. It felt wonderful to actually do instead of teach, and though I was far from perfect, I think I was pretty good. As a performer, it was good to tread the boards again, and of course, I always love wearing false eyelashes. As a teacher, it was an excellent reminder of how difficult it can be to actually learn a new routine, and returned my perspective to that of a student’s, which is a role that I really needed to revisit.
With a few exceptions, I’ve pretty much been dancing my own choreography for the past four years. Having to adapt to another’s style after developing my own was quite difficult. Of course, the choreography that nobody can teach you is the subtle ballet that happens backstage; the way you have to step over stretching limbs, or dodge quick exits, or zip and velcro other castmembers into their costumes, just in the nick of time. Of course, by the time I was really getting the hang of things, Christmas was officially upon us, and the show had come to an end.
The most frequent comments that I got from audience members were that I was “very bouncy” or “very enthusiastic,” to which I could only reply “yes, well, I do children’s theatre.” My husband likes to joke about how I landed a gig at a theatre for adults, but I’m dancing around in a fuzzy reindeer suit with bi-forked gloves. Should it come as a surprise to anyone that playing Dancer the Reindeer was my favorite part of the show? I think not.
Donning a reindeer suit every night and bringing Christmas cheer to audience after audience was a wonderful experience, one that I wish could have lasted for a few more weeks. Since Thanksgiving, I’ve been dancing in a Christmas review, being paid to put others in the mood for the holidays. The trouble is, when you see Frosty the Snowman walking around backstage without his head, or Santa playing World of Warcraft on his laptop, it can be a little tricky to find that holiday joy for yourself. The artificial snow that makes you cough, and the reindeer antlers that cut off the circulation to your ears can make the whole holiday seem so…manufactured.
It’s a good thing I’ve got my HD-TV fireplace, my fake tree and my scented candle to put me in the mood. 🙂
Only Small Actors 