Merry Oxmas

or, The Post That Mentions Alex Martin by Name

Now look here, I turned my back on you for ONE MOMENT (okay, two and a half weeks), and suddenly we're in the middle of Thanksgichristmahanukkwanzikoxmas!  What is the deal?

It was a fulfilling Thanksgiving.  We gathered at Wolfson College for a potluck feast, organized by an American but attended by an assortment of international folk who were collectively stunned by the glorious gluttony laid out on the table before them.  We began by going around the table and saying something we were each thankful for, which the uninitiated found to be a painfully awkward ritual.  Then we stuffed ourselves full of tryptophan, and afterwards, through the haze of food coma, some in attendance began to air grievances.  It was everything a good Thanksgiving should be.

The following Saturday Andy and I went to the New Theatre to see the Welsh National Opera do Il Barbiere di Siviglia in English.  Linguistic transgressions aside, it was a great production and a delightful evening.  At dinner beforehand we found ourselves sitting next to two dudes who were actually in the opera.

Voilà:

Sunday the 27th was the Wadham carol service.  We really need to import this 9 lessons and carols thing to the land of the free and the home of the brave.  An hour of alternating carols and Christmas-related readings?  Yes please.  I sang the solo on Once in Royal David's City from on high in the organ, which was a thrill.  Writing about this evening can't do justice to it.  It was a little bit magical.

Nine Lessons and Carols were followed by a party at the director's house, where I realized I hadn't been in a house for two months.  An odd revelation.  Alex Martin* was there.

During the following week I rode Harbo(u)r the Substantial, heard Mozart's Requiem live for the first time, auditioned to direct a community choir, finished Michaelmas term, and generally had a pleasant time with friends and Alex Martin.  That Friday (Dec 2) was the Wadham Christmas dinner, where Alex Martin, as a regular member of the bass section of our choir, sang.  Most of the debauchery that went down that night doesn't bear description, so I'll just tell you about the Twelve Days of Christmas and leave it at that.

We performed three times that night (twice from a balcony above the hall), for three different groups of merry diners, and we ended each set with the Twelve Days of Christmas.  Now, I had been told about this event by Alex Martin and other people ever since I first joined the choir, but nothing prepared me for what actually happened.  Every time--I'm not exaggerating, EVERY TIME--we sang "five gold rings," everybody (including those at the high table) stopped eating, stood on the tables, and hollered out the words with arms in the air.  Every time.  They pounded their fists on the tables and counted down with us: "Eight!  Seven!  Six!  FIIIIIIIVE GOOOLD RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGS!!!"  It was wild.

The next day I went caroling in town with Alex Martin and a few other friends from the choir.  Let's just say it didn't do anything at all to eradicate my lingering fantasy about what an English Christmas is exactly, which is based mainly on Charles Dickens.  God bless us, everyone!

I've just realized how many events I have yet to cover in this post.  I'll abridge things and present them in the form of a dull bulleted list.

• On Sunday the 4th the choir (with Alex Martin, for he had not yet gone home) repeated our Nine Lessons and Carols service for Wadham alumni.
• On Monday we celebrated the end of term in St Cross by watching a movie I highly recommend called The Fall.  Watch it, it's super cool.

• On Tuesday we sang the St Cross carol service in the stunningly conservative borderline-Catholic Pusey House, which is the chapel adjoined to but never (apart from the annual carol service) associated with St Cross.  I sang with the volunteer choir for that, which squeaked by on a grand total of five hours of rehearsal.  Alex Martin is not in that choir.
• On Wednesday there was a choir-ish party (Alex Martin had gone home to the North by this point).  The highlight of that event was the impassioned performance (lip synching and interpretive dance) of several Abba songs by a few men of the choir.
• On Thursday I flitted around town with Andy** and his mom (mum, sorry) and had a marvelous time.  This was repeated on Friday.

And here we is on Saturday.  Not quite sure yet what tonight will have in store, but whatever it is, it's bound to be fun.

I leave you with this final notice: I have started my application to stay here and do a DPhil.  World without end, amen.

*Alex Martin, you are hereby mentioned by name.

**My vow to Alex Martin is realized and fulfilled.  You have both been mentioned.  Merry Christmas, Alex Martin.