I’m not always sure how I end up in these situations. Tonight I was Joseph. Surrounded by singing children, a brass band and a vicar who looked like a Hell’s Angel. Ah, the village’s annual Carol Service. As usual, the local beauty queen (aged twelve) turned the Christmas tree lights on. The local school and the Women’s Institute provided choirs. A woman from one of the houses on the Green doled out mulled wine in plastic cups. And we sang. My enthusiasm for carol-singing is not diminished by a complete inability to hold a tune, nor indeed by the pained expressions of those nearby.
I wasn’t supposed to the focus of attention when my time came. It should have been small children in dressing gowns and tea towels clutching dolls and toy animals. But, as I tried to speak Mister Robinson’s PA system started howling like a banshee and shattered the angelic tableau. The address system sorted itself out just in time for the throng to hear me say something distinctly unseasonal about Mister Robinson and his microphone. That's one less card for me this Christmas.
haha, thats genius.
No details on what was said? Or is the clue in the title?
Posted by: the boy who likes to | Friday, 08 December 2006 at 11:20 AM