You glorious time of hope, of waiting, of renewal. You invite us to watch and wait, to be still and open. You are a season of wisdom and preparation, rising above the din of humanity to a higher plane of awareness.
It's a great idea, but I'm here to tell you, if you're a musician, there is no watching and waiting, unless you're watching the clock, waiting for the next gig to be over, and attempting to rise above the din of humanity by playing louder, singing higher or dancing faster. We need a candle on the Advent wreath for sanity, high notes, a bonus hour of sleep, or a get-out-of-caroling and/or Nutcracker free card. No offense to the great gang over there in Bethlehem, but we need an Advent calendar that counts down the days until the holiday concert season is over. For most people, December is a time of festive colors: holiday green and red, opulent gold, silver twinkling stars and icy white lights. But for me and my brethren, we round out our calendar year with concert black day after day after day after day. Ho Freaking Ho.
So if you find us begging out of a lovely afternoon of holiday cheer, don't take it personally. Ditto for eggnog, sleigh rides, car drives in the neighborhood, or the worst -- shopping. This is the season for hoarding every spare second we can find, and carving out a December soundtrack free of swimming swans, reindeer, dead grandmas, bells, merry gentlemen, ships and roasted nuts. Looking at my calendar, I think that spare second might happen sometime around December 26th.
And believe me, I'm watching. And waiting.