Singing Christmas Trees

My son's girlfriend is a dancer, just out of college and looking for a hot job. For the last couple of summers, she worked more than full time at Six Flags. Part of her job involved an endlessly repetitive dance routine. When she wasn't dancing, she was being sawed in half by a magician. The box she had to crawl into was pretty small, and most of the time she had dark bruises on her skin from squeezing into it. I'd have to say she's quite a trouper.



Right now Lindsay's teaching in a dance studio and going to lots of auditions. Her dream job at this point would be working at Disneyworld or on a cruise ship. She usually gets pretty far into the auditions, she says, but invariably gets cut after the singing part.

So I thought of Lindsay when, walking through Macy's the other day, I saw these three young ladies dolled up as Christmas trees. L should be able to handle this job if she wants it next year. Having the nerve to do a song-and-dance routine in the heart of New York city while wearing this getup is apparently key...actual vocal talent a distant second.

Santa, Are You Listening?

It was so warm this fall that it was hard to believe Christmas was coming. The recent snowstorms have helped me realize that yes, it's definitely December. A visit to New York City this week, combining business with pleasure, provided another means of getting into a holiday mood.

The weather was fine and the streets clear of snow. Perfect for walking. We checked out Rockefeller Center and the windows on Fifth Avenue on the way to the Empire State Building. After lunch with a college friend who works on the 50th floor, we ducked into Macy's, king among department stores for Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrating. We visited kindly, twinkly-eyed Santa, listened to the singing Christmas trees, browsed the winter wonderland of decorated trees, and wandered the aisles of the toy department.

This festively beribboned zebra caught my fancy. I would have loved it as a child. When I was a little girl, I'd never even been near a real horse, but I never gave up hope of owning one. I loved zebras, ponies, and donkeys, too--anything equine.

The best I could do was to collect figurines of horses. Most were made of china, but a few were wood or metal or even stuffed. The little ones were displayed on a mahogany shelf in my bedroom. Periodically, my mother would knock a couple of horses off while vacuuming and break a delicate leg or two.

Every year, I wished for a pony. I had figured out exactly where in the back yard we could keep him. My mother's patient explanations about zoning laws and the cost of upkeep had little effect on my child's mind. I never really gave up hope. Santa, are you listening?