“That means I’ll probably just have to sit at home with the lights off,” he said, still holding the flyer up to the screen.
I shook my head in wonder. My colleague’s neighbours had organised a community event for carol singing, mulled wine and festive nibbles, just in the square up the road from where he lives. But he was having none of it.
“I can’t actually think of anything worse,” he said.
I felt my heart sink a little bit. I glanced over at the piano - the same piano I practise on every year, just to make sure I can still play those old tunes. I’ve written a lot about the Christmas Compendium, and how, for us at least, gathering round the piano for a sing-song was an unmissable joy in the Christmas calendar.
“But you don’t actually have to sing, do you?” asked the boss, half-horrified.
“Carol sheets and music will be provided,” he read aloud from the flyer. He grimaced.
“I guess that means some amateur, who thinks they’re a musician, will turn up with a guitar or something.”
The reason my heart was sinking a little was because this year I don’t get to do anything like that, and I’m quite sad about it. I usually get to do carols at least somewhere! The last thing I would be doing if I had that opportunity tonight, is sitting alone at home with the lights off.
I know I can’t convince you. You’re either already with me, or dead against me and it’s okay. I did carols at my work Christmas party for a few years in a row because HR thought it would be nice - I quickly distinguished the full-gusto singers from the let’s-hide-in-the-bar-and-cringe people. I know the feedback I got, as well as the looks, and I don’t blame you for a moment.
I kept quiet on the call. I didn’t blame him, I just think he might be missing out on something genuinely heart-warming and nice. Still, each to his own, I guess.
Meanwhile, it probably says something about my circle of influence, that I’ve got another friend out there who’s just released an album of Christmas songs, folk-tunes and carols that have brought him joy over the years. He pulled together a bunch of musicians (he didn’t need a piano) and they did a great job of it back in the summer.
“Part of the joy of singing carols together,” he says, “Is the joy of seeing someone enter in to it for the first time and really love it. All the awkwardness just sort of melts.”
Well said. I think my colleague might take a bit more convincing though.
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