Advent 2015 December 8


On Saturday the 5th, I was privileged to attend a one-man show put on by actor David Payne about C. S. Lewis at Christmas.  Because I commit myself to thing and then want to get out of them at the last minute (bad habit due to overcommitment-itis) I went with a “well I paid for this and it will be good for me” blah, blah type of idea.

I was quite pleased.  Since, as an academic, I have probably read more of C.S. Lewis and about him than most, and I don’t say that as a brag.  Being a bookish person is nothing to be proud of; it’s just who I am.  I can’t play the piano, do lifesaving, fix an engine, deliver a calf, or insert an IV catheter.  I can cook, sew, garden, teach, and drive a stick shift car, though. 

It was neat to see how the script was put together, and the actor adopted a very Anthony-Hopkins style voice that is not his natural accent (well, accents are learned, but typical one, I supposed).  And it was very much about grieving and death, since the second part was about his marriage and the actor mentioned during the break that his wife had passed away in the last year or so, and they had been married 49 years. 

It was well worth it and my gift to myself at Christmas.  The actor as C.S. Lewis pointed out that Charles Dickens is truly responsible for how we do Christmas (and Clement Moore and Thomas Nast of how we see Santa Claus, I would add).  Thank goodness for Charles Dickens!

Today I finished the tree and starting thinking about making my fruitcake, which is helped along with rum.  Gifts?  That needs some thought.

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