Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Waxing Moon
Anniversary of Pearl Harbor
Rain/sleet/cold
Somber day, and important to remember what happened. Also important that many people within the US suffered from the consequences of things like internment camps, and that must not happen again.
On a happier note, yesterday was my shift at Spectacle of Trees. It was so much fun. It was wonderful to be reminded that there still is kindness in the world, in spite of Paul Lyin’ Ryan and what he plans to do to destroy people who aren’t rich.
The trees make people happy, and ticket money goes to the great causes of each tree, which is a wonderful thing. That, and the fact that they’re beautiful. 100% of each ticket purchase goes to the organization in whose box it is placed. When so many organizations talk about their donations “buy this ornament for $5 and $1 goes to charity” or “buy this magazine subscription for $10 and $1 goes to charity”, when you buy a $10 ticket and the whole $10 goes to the charity, that’s something to celebrate.
There was a couple from Texas there, a tiny town outside Austin. They loved the trees; this was their first time on Cape. They didn’t want to actually win a tree, but they bought tickets in order to make a donation.
Other people put a ticket into every single box, along with multiple tickets for “their” organization.
One of the things we politely ask is that people don’t touch anything (too easy for something to tip over or to walk away). That’s always tough with little kids. One year, they had a train running on a track around the bottom of the tree, and that was nearly impossible to keep kids off.
Anyway, this year, a guy came up to the library tree. Adult, who should know better. He grabbed a beautiful edition of A CHRISTMAS CAROL that was with the tree and started flipping through it. I asked him to please not touch anything. He then spun me a line about that he was “only checking to see if it was signed by the author.” Now, it’s a gorgeous edition, but it’s pretty obvious it is NOT one that was printed in Dickens’ lifetime. Ergo, he could not have signed it.
My response, with a perfectly straight face, was, “We didn’t have time to set up a séance this year and get him to sign it.”
“Oh, maybe next year, then?” He asked hopefully.
People. I tell you. Either he really was that out there, or he was trying to play me so he could walk off with the book. He struck me as someone who’s used to getting away with things because he’s good looking and knows how to charm.
That’s where working in theatre comes in handy–I’m used to recognizing actors. Not as celebrities (if I haven’t worked with someone, I don’t recognized them), but I can recognize when someone’s wearing a false face, at least a good portion of the time.
There was another woman who was so fascinated with the library tree that she photographed every ornament separately.
A little old Irish lady who’s a big Kennedy clan fan came in (the event is in the JFK Museum), and we had a long chat about the Kennedys.
A couple of people came through who only put tickets in the boxes that had the most “stuff” that went along with the tree.
One woman wanted information about one of the organizations. I couldn’t remember exactly what she needed, so I hunted down the information and gave it to her. She then asked what organization I was with, and when I told her, put eight additional tickets in our box!
Anyway, the shift was very interesting — lots of material for future tales.
Grabbed a pizza on the way home. Didn’t get a chance to work on the play, so must do the final polish on it so it can go out, and then turn my attention back to JUST A DROP. Also, have to finish our own trees here. And write cards! I’m behind on the cards. And the baking!
Lots to do, but the writing can’t suffer for it. I have another play to finish and a short story to write by the end of the year.
I’m also researching some towns in New Brunswick as the setting for a possible project.
I hope it clears up in the next few days. The front is raked and ready for winter, but I still have to do the sides, the terrace, and the meadow.
Devon