Every year, Trinity Theater in Providence stages a production of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”. It has become such a Rhode Island tradition over the past 30 years that it plays to packed houses twice a day from Thanksgiving to New Year’s and tickets are hard to come by. How does Trinity get people to come back time and time again to see the same show?
Quite simply, they vary parts of the play so that each production has a few surprises. One year, Scrooge was played by a black woman. The ghost of Jacob Marley has flown in over the audience on a trapeze and risen from a trap door in the stage. The Spirit Of Christmas Future has been both a Big Nazo puppet and a young child. Both portrayals were spectacular.
One endearing aspect of A Christmas Carol at Trinity is the group of young children who are part of the cast each year. They add a lightness and poignancy to a presentation that is otherwise quite somber. Who can forget that when Scrooge is asked for a donation to help the poor, he responds by bellowing, “Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?” Bah, humbug, indeed.
After being visited by three spirits on Christmas Eve, a chastened and newly enlightened Scrooge ends the play with these final words:
Dickens wrote those words in 1843, but they are just as relevant today. Amid the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping, wrapping gifts, decorating the tree and preparing for Christmas dinner, let us all reserve a place in our hearts to remember why we celebrate Christmas in the first place. Dickens would ask nothing more of us. And nothing less.
Opinions vary on how to hold the wishbone. Some people wrap their fingers around the ends and place their thumbs near the junction for extra leverage. That’s called “cheating”. Some hold the ends delicately between thumb and forefinger. And some pull the bone apart using only their pinkie fingers. That’s how it was done in my family.
Adults, of course, don’t often engage in such childish shenanigans, so I have not broken a wishbone in many years. But last month, as I was pulling the turkey apart on Thanksgiving Day, I found myself holding the wishbone and decided the time had come to share the legend with my oldest grandchild, Lillian.
When I picked her up from school a week later, I carefully explained the process to her. Like every child, she was enthralled by anything that smacked of magic. We rehearsed the script. We practiced our grips on the wishbone. And I dutifully cautioned her not to tell a single soul about her wish or else it wouldn’t come true.
The first thing I noticed about watching hockey live is the players are moving much faster on the ice than they seem to on television. I used to wonder why the teams changed players so often, usually every minute or so. But now I understand. Those guys are sprinting up and down the ice at full speed every second. It’s like running the 100 yard dash a dozen times in a row. The players are soon exhausted and the teams needs to get some “fresh legs” on the ice.
We didn’t have much room for more food after our pre-game meal, so we shared a desert during those intermissions – a hot fudge brownie topped with ice cream and chocolate sauce. Yes, we had the same thing twice and it was delicious. Both times!
Around the Gulf Coast, it means shrimp etouffe. In New England it means a selection of root vegetables – butternut squash, yams, turnips, onions and mashed potatoes. In the Southwest, jalepenos and avocados often find their way onto the table. For some folks, peas and rice are part of the tradition. For others, it’s linguica, chourico, bratwurst or kielbasa.
History tells us that turkeys grew wild in the forests around Plimouth, but how these ungainly creatures came to symbolize Thanksgiving in America is not entirely clear. Certainly, Norman Rockwell and his iconic art work had a lot to do with it. His image of a deeply bronzed turkey at the center of the Thanksgiving table is now enshrined in our national consciousness.
Every family has its own idea of what a well planned Thanksgiving meal looks like. But more important than what is on the table is who is seated around it with you. Today, let’s take a moment out of our busy lives and spend it being grateful for the family and friends who make us feel special every day. Bon appetit!
That name doesn’t tell the whole story, though. In addition to the black beans, we added caramelized onions, sauteed celery, baked butternut squash, garlic and baby carrots. We have some rosemary growing just outside the kitchen door, so a little of that got tossed into the mix as well.
Sadly, the world is tilted on its axis. So as it makes its year long journey around the sun, the amount of daylight that falls upon any portion of the earth changes. This variation creates our seasons, regiments the growth of our crops and effects our sleep cycles. By nature, we like to go to bed when the sun sets and get up when it rises in the morning. At least that’s the way it was before the invention of candles and lanterns and electric lights allowed us to make productive use of the dark.
Recently technology has wrought other changes in how people around the world lead their lives. The digital age and the internet have brought us the concept of commerce that goes on 24 hours a day, 7 days a week without fail. 24/7 has crept into our vocabulary, and because of it, young people in Spain have abandoned the centuries old tradition of the afternoon siesta. The world of commerce simply does not permit them to be non-productive for a portion of every business day. People in India arise at midnight to staff the call centers and help desks that we in America take for granted will be there when we need them.
From the beginning of Spring training, all the members of the team had agreed to grow beards and keep them until the season was over. Now, these were not just ordinary beards. These were flowing, luxuriant works of art reminiscent of ZZ Top or miners during the Gold Rush of 1849. The players made a commitment to each other to “find a way to win” and the beards became the symbol of that commitment. As the season went on, fans began wearing fake beards in the stands and “Fear The Beards” became the motto for all of Red Sox Nation.
The only bright spot at the plate was a guy who came back from a debilitating Achilles tendon injury, shed 30 pounds and rededicated himself to the specialty skill at which he excels – hitting a baseball. David Ortiz went 11 for 16 in the World Series for a staggering .688 batting average, the highest of any player ever. At the beginning of the year, most fans (including me) wanted to give up on Big Papi. But today, be is the MVP of the 2013 World Series. What a story!
Rhode Trips 