Step Up.
Scene: Department store. Lights are dim. Santa is seated on an elevated chair. Three steps lead up to the chair. Six or seven children wait in line to be next to sit on Santa’s lap. 


We hear the store PA system: “…The best savings and value on your Christmas decorations and gifts right here, now till Saturday, so shop, save and celebrate!”


Light holiday music comes on. The kids are buzzing with anticipation.


Lights up on a cross little girl, seated on Santa’s lap, with arms folded in defiance. Her face is contorted in an angry, grimace. She glares, eyes locked onto Santa’s, challenging him. 


Santa stares back for the longest moment but weakens. Breaks his gaze. Breathes deeply. Looks at the row of children. Looks back at the little girl on his lap. Finally, he breaks the silence.


Santa:
I don’t believe in me, either.


After a long a pause, little girl slowly softens. Uncrosses her arms. Pats Santa on the arm. Rests her head on his shoulder. 


Fade to black.


See the other four 1-minute Christmas plays here.

Franchise

Nicholas of Bari, the Bishop of Lycia, sits wearily on his throne. The year is 343. 

Stage Design Note: The Bishop would probably not have any décor older than 341.

Offstage voice:
Bishop, the merchant is here.

Nicholas waves in the merchant.

Merchant:
Bishop Nicholas of Bari. I speak for all when I say, we love what you do.

Bishop:
And what is it that I do?

Merchant
The Bishop is humble. But who doesn’t know that, under cover of night, he tosses gold coins into windows – right into stockings drying by the fire.

Nicholas
That happened once. And it was an accident.

Merchant
All due respect, Excellency, it was brilliant. And it’s also time to expand. To spread this act of benevolence all over the world!

Nicholas
I’m exhausted!

Merchant
That’s where I come in. We have others do what you do. Exactly the same way. Let me show you how.

Merchant unveils a big poster board visible only to the bishop.

Bishop:
Who is that?

Merchant:
You.

Bishop:
I don’t own a red suit.

The merchant pulls a red coat out of a bag and holds it up.

Merchant:
You wear this for a year. During the full moon, you get spotted. Word gets around. All of a sudden, this coat…is you. And anyone in the world wearing a coat like this is suddenly…you, Bishop.
Nicholas is intrigued. Stands up and scrutinizes the poster board.

Nicholas:
You should fire your artist. Those eight little horses look weird.

Merchant (delightedly):
Just hear me out…

​Lights to black.

It’s that time of year when I like to introduce the dozen or so people on the planet who have not yet read it . . . “Giftmas”…the essay that all civilized people agree ended once and for all the War on Christmas.   Read it here.

Happy 90th birthday to Tony Bennett. What a treasure. He’s the rare singer whose smile you can hear.

Just as you can savor wine by understanding it’s qualities, you can appreciate how Tony Bennett flavors nearly every song with three characteristics: a whisper, a laugh and an exclamation point.

Take “Steppin’ Out” from his 1994 Unplugged performance on MTV. Listen and notice:

The first verse, his whisper. His warm humor at :58. His exclamation points at 1:20, 2:00 and 2:59. It’s one of the best things in life, a singer who makes every song a conversation.

Tony Bennett said he practiced months before he could get “right” how to sing  “The Shadow of Your Smile.” Here he sings it on a 1966 TV show,  bringing to it the full, thoughtful emotion it deserves.

Singers today who blast out of the gate belting to the rafters could learn crescendo-building by studying Tony’s slow ascent on any version “I Left My Heart in San Francisco.”

If I Had to Pick a Favorite, It Would Be This (My 4:58 Vacation)
The Unplugged clip above illustrates what’s great best about live jazz — the interaction between musicians. One talks while the others listen. Take “When Lights Are Low.” Listen to the whispers, the laughs, the exclamation points — plus a delicate dance between voice and string…voice and keys…voice and skins.

So much care is put into every note of this song. It seems effortless, which defines most of Tony Bennett’s work, and is the mark of a great pro.


That’s why this World War II veteran is still on top of his game. Happy 90th birthday, Tony Bennett.

Bethlehem Suite: 
A Hotel Clerk Changes Christian History By Acting Like One, or, “Now What Goes UNDER the Tree?”
(A new comedy by Neil Simon Peter)
Lights up slowly on the lobby of small inn. Faded, chipped sign says, “Inn of Bethlehem.” Fresher, newer hand-painted sign – with misspelling — says, “Welcome Censis Travellers.”
Man behind desk leans back in chair, dozing. Young couple, Joseph and Mary, enter wearily. Young woman is extremely pregnant. They do not speak, but their noise upon entering startles the hotel clerk, who responds comically, knocking over cup. He grumbles and gripes as he reaches for a cloth to clean up the spill.
Joseph:
We are sorry.

Clerk:
Not as sorry as me. I have to tell you, we’re all booked.

Joseph & Mary are defeated, exhausted.

Joseph:
Everybody is full. (Sighs.) Can my wife at least sit for a moment?

Clerk:
Of course. Are you here for the census?

Joseph:
What else? Looks like it’s good for your business.

Clerk:
Yes.

Joseph:
And bad for mine. I have twelve chairs to build. The wood is in Galilee. But I am here.

Mary becomes still. She has quickly fallen asleep. Both men notice and are quiet.

Clerk:
She’s at peace.(Pause.) My friend from Galilee, I have a little space in the back, if you don’t mind a friendly sheep or two…

Mary’s sleep deepens, her breathing is louder, nearly a snore. Joseph’s head hangs in weariness.

Clerk:
What am I saying! You’ll take my room. It’s the best in the inn.

Joseph:
The best? I have very little money.

Clerk:
Consider it an early Christmas present.

Joseph:
Huh?

Lights fade with Mary’s rhythmic breathing the only sound against a backdrop of stillness.

​See the other four 1-minute Christmas plays here.

The Godfather 2.5:
Thanksgiving Sleeps with the Fishes

Michael Corleone and Santa are seated on two chairs facing each other. 

Michael Corleone:
It’s done. Macy’s will launch their Christmas shop on November 1st.

Santa leans forward.

Santa:
Excuse me? The day after…?

Michael Corleone:
Halloween. Yes.

Santa:
You mean Thanksgiving?

Michael Corleone:
Those are the old ways, Santa. My father’s ways. Those days are over. Now, Christmas season starts November 1st.

Santa:
The music, too?

Michael Corleone:
Bing Crosby, Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the two-front-teeth song…they all start on the radio and in the stores on November 1st.

(Pause)

Santa:
Michael…we’re bigger than U.S. Steel.

THE END

​See the other four 1-minute Christmas plays here.

An infamous 1969 news story has it that twenty-three people at an apartment complex in Pass Christian, Mississippi didn’t take seriously warnings that Hurricane Camille would be deadly. Instead, they partied, raised their glasses, mocked the weather men.

They all died, blasted by the storm they were told was coming.

That story came to my mind as I considered the carefree overconfidence of voters who thought no way Donald Trump would win. I’ll bet Trump supporters experienced a whiplash of their own, going from anger to joy.

Angry voters got their wish. They should adjust to not being angry, and many will discover how difficult that will be. Anger is an addictive adrenaline. Overconfident voters – along with the media – had ice cold water (if not a hurricane) thrown in their faces.

Now that the electorate has swapped moods, we are all just waiting.  Sure, business continues. Government transitions. Life goes on. Everyone’s busy, but we can’t keep thinking the way we used to. And now, at least where I live, the snow is about to fall.

I am treating these holidays and political lame duck period as a time to regrow my brain. In his 1991 book Winter: Notes from Montana, Rick Bass writes about the value of winter and quiet as a way, not to forget, but to readjust and become stronger:

“Perhaps all the snow in the world will fall, burying everything, such silence, and then I will come out of it in the spring, different, cleaner, not born again so much as built up. I’ll laugh at more things, and not get so angry at decadence, at laziness, at deceit and the theft of time, the theft of truth, starting with the President and going all the way down to the grocery store.”

​It’s a good read, in journal form, a perfect daily nibble of one man’s thoughts from a cabin in Montana. We could all use such a cabin, whether you intend to support or loyally oppose. And if you are apolitical, it’s a great little book to help you hide from Christmas.