MoTab for Christmas

Amilynne called me the other night and practically the first thing out of her mouth was "ARE YOU LISTENING TO MoTAB?" MoTab, for anyone new to the abbreviation, is the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. A fine institution celebrating 75 years of Music and the Spoken Word this year. Actually, get me on the wrong day, and I can't stand it. In general, choral music is not my favorite, and I usually like something grandiose and symphonic (which the MoTab sometimes is, but isn't always) and more instrumental, or just some rock-n-roll. However, this all magically changes at Christmas time, because it is the time of year for choirs of angels, or of people, whichever you have handy. Ergo MoTab for Christmas.

So to Amilynne's query of "ARE YOU LISTENING TO MoTAB?" I instantly responded "Yes, it's Christmas. There is little better than MoTab for Christmas, except maybe Barbara Streisand, heaven bless her for doing it in spite of being Jewish." And to my surprise Amilynne came right back with "Yes, there is very little better than MoTab for Christmas." I admit I was a tiny bit shocked, but I soon recovered because I realized that she did grow up in the same house as I did and therefore she had been subject to the same range of Christmas recordings as I had been. MoTab would make sense for her too, thanks to our dad.

(Not thanks to our dad, we were also subjected to Manheim Steamroller's Christmas. We can entertain ourselves for a very long time immitating Manheim Steamroller's version of Deck the Halls. I do not suggest listening to it, or one may find onesself immitating it for hours on end, and I would propose that one's time could be put to better use doing just about anything else.)

At any rate, Amilynne commented on how the Christmas music at her work drives her nuts, until every once in a while MoTab comes on, and then she is happy.

I have listened to too much MoTab, though, because yesterday instead of working on all of my classwork and work work I got into the Christmas spirit and decorated my trees. (Yes, trees plural--but don't mistake it for anything fantastic. It's a group of three trees ranging from 18" to 3' high). In spite of their diminuitive size, the task took a few hours, as I decorated each individually and differently than its fellows. The best little detail is a nutcracker of a Venetian gondolier hanging from the largest tree. Also there's a bear that hangs from the lowest tree down to the ground, so he has his own forest to walk through. Very sweet. Makes me happy.

So at any rate I find myself coming out of this weekend even farther behind than I was before going into it, and yet there are lit trees, MoTab carols, and a jug of eggnog waiting for me when I get home. Sometimes putting onesself in the position of having to face stress and consequences is almost justifiable.