When Trevor and I ventured out of the theater after Saturday afternoon’s Romeo and Juliet simulcast, we were greeted by the sight of at least three inches of new snow on the ground and still more falling . . . a lovely sight but a also an unwelcome mess, especially for me because of that night’s performance by the Kenosha Pops Band at Carthage. They are a hearty band of musicians, so I was sure they wouldn’t cancel, but I was inwardly grumbling at the effort of getting down to Carthage through all that snow for the sake of performing for the 20 people crazy enough to venture out on such a wintery night.   But in fact there were around 125 daredevils who managed to get to Carthage for what has become a much beloved tradition there in the last six or seven years.   (Actually, my former boss at WGTD, Frank Falduto, liked to say that people in Kenosha are so enamored with anything free that they would gladly stand for three hours in the pouring rain if all they were giving away were free headaches.)

Well believe me, we weren’t giving out free headaches that night – but rather a night of stunning holiday music for band. Siebert is a magnificent space for brass and woodwinds, and this group is superb – and to be along for the ride was a real pleasure.  I sang two things which I’ve done every year of these holidays concerts,  White Christmas and Auld lang syne-  and I also get to polish off the keys of the big Cassavent pipe organ playing The Hallelujah Chorus.  I’m no trained organist, but I bluff like the best of them, and this always seems to go over really well – although I managed to create some unintended comedy when I got done with my introduction (mostly a plug for the next night’s Singalong Messiah performance) – sat myself down on the bench – brought my hands down on the keys – and NOTHING.  It turns out that I had turned off the organ for some reason, and the key to it was back in my coat, with my car keys.  I scampered off apologetically to the side pew to retrieve the key like I was trying to do some sort of Abbott and Costello routine.  And if I’d planned it,  I would have been laughing too.

Aside from such antics,  it really was a wonderful night of music making- and I especially enjoyed the feeling of singing well again after several weeks of feeling pretty rotten,  vocally.  Auld lang syne is especially near and dear to my heart.  It’s the last thing on the official program (Sleigh Ride is the encore) and it is an incredibly uplifting yet poignant moment that always garners a standing ovation.   This year, as I sang it,  I stole a couple of glances off to the side where my dear friend Playford Thorson was listening from his wheelchair as his wife Kathy played in the flute section.   Last year as I sang it as he looked on,  from his wheelchair,  I would have bet anything that it was the last Christmas season he was going to live to see.  But here he is, still with us, hanging on – glad to be there, I’m sure – in fact, he’s the one who insisted that Kathy bring him along, snow and all.  It made me truly embarrassed that I had grumbled about the hassle of getting myself to Carthage through the driving snow.  The friends in my life like Playford and Walter and Austin make that kind of complaining seem pretty foolish.

Speaking of foolish, or should I say goofy – and on a much lighter note – the festively- clad woman above is actually an old friend of mine – Melvina Klemm – who used to work at the radio station.  She was one of many many audience members clad in bright, festive red . . . . and looking out at the audience it felt a lot like football Saturdays back in Lincoln, Nebraska when the downtown would be full of people walking to the stadium clad head to toe in red.   And sometimes on Pentecost Sunday we will ask people to wear red in honor of the occasion.   What is it about red that gets us so excited?