Small Town Life - February 26, 2015

As published in the White River Current - Thursday February 26, 2015

I was born in Calico Rock, a long time ago.  A lot of the Rambling’s columns have been about my growing up in a small town in the Ozarks, population about one thousand, more or less.  I’m too lazy to go back and read all the stories that have come to my mind while I am sitting at the computer, hammering out a page about my escapades while I was a youth.  Amazing to me, but very often someone still comes up to me and comments about my column.  A few even say that they enjoy it.  This is episode No. 76 and I hope to make it to No. 100 which may occur in early 2016.  Times have changed a lot over the last eight decades.  Small towns have many of the same problems that large cities do, except their problems may be, well, smaller.  Survival depends on how the communities adjust to the changes.  For instance, in Calico Rock employment opportunities are fewer, the average age of our citizens has increased, several businesses have closed, but, on the bright side, some new businesses have opened and the census is at an all-time high.  When I was in business, quite often I remarked that I enjoyed living in Calico Rock.  I liked the friendly people, I enjoyed my church, and, in many ways, it was the ideal community to raise a family; if only, I would continue to say, we were closer to a metropolitan area.  I have since become convinced that our location is just about right.  Almost fifteen years ago, Anita and I began spending most of our time in Ozark, Missouri, six miles south of Springfield, the third largest city in Missouri, behind Kansas City and St. Louis in population.  We sold our motor home and moved into my Aunt’s home when she was admitted to a nursing facility.  Eventually we built a new house in a small subdivision in Ozark, sold the Calico Rock home where we had resided for over 45 years and settled into life in Missouri.  We found a church and Sunday school and made many new friends.  We had great neighbors, all of which were young, working adults with small children. We were within five miles of three Wal-Mart Supercenters.  Battlefield Mall was a short distance away as were restaurants, theaters and a plethora of other places willing to supply their services and merchandise in exchange for an agreed upon amount of currency.  Life was good…for awhile.  After our last grandchild graduated from high school and left for college, we stopped, took a deep breath and took stock of our situation.  The enjoyment of attending the grandkids ball games, wrestling matches and family get-togethers had suddenly ceased.  We both decided the time had come to go “home.”  We sold our home in Ozark, took the money and built a new residence near the Calico Rock hospital and have happily settled in for the duration.  We both miss the friends and family that we left back in Missouri, especially the great-grandchildren that have come along since we were there.  We do not miss the heavy traffic, rude drivers and the general fast pace of life.  We are convinced we made the right decision.  We tried it, sorta liked it but like it better here.  We see new people move into our area quite often, coming from the North, South and other areas of the U.S.  I’ve often wondered why they decided to move to this small town in such a rural area, so I plan to ask some of them, and if they will give me permission I will report my findings in a future column.  A couple of weeks ago, Angelia Roberts, a Calico Rock HS graduate who is Executive Director of Ad/Ed for the Batesville Guard newspaper, posted a very well written column for her publication that she entitled “Pulling Together.”  The subjects of her article were Calico Rock residents, Gene and Reva Lockie.  The Lockies were married 68 years ago at the Little Brown Church in the Vale which is located about ten miles from Gene’s birthplace in Charles City, Iowa.  Angelia writes that during a trip to Calico Rock several years later the couple happened to visit Lover’s Leap where they watched the White River wind between the bluffs and the farmland below.  Reva turned to Gene and remarked that her dream was to someday see that view for the rest of her life.  That became a reality in 1987 when they purchased the bluff home that became their permanent residence a year later.  Two people from “off” that have helped make Calico Rock a better place to live.     

Music, music, music - February 12, 2015

As published in the White River Current - Thursday February 12, 2015

Put another nickel in; In the nickelodeon; All I want is having you and Music, Music, Music.  So went the million-seller hit recorded by Teresa Brewer in 1950.  Several of my articles have contained references about  music, so you readers should be aware that it has been a big part of my life.  I began taking piano lessons in the first grade and continued all the way through high school and the first year of college.  I think if I had continued with the lessons, I might be a good pianist; instead I am only a fair piano player.  Never-the-less, I have developed a great love for music.  All music, you know, is created from a combination of twelve musical sounds and tones (notes) played at different locations on the musical scale, from treble to bass. “Music is that elevated science that affects the passions by sound.  There are few who have not felt its charms and acknowledged its expressions to be intelligible to the heart.  It is a language of delightful sensations, far more eloquent than words.  It breathes to the ear the clearest intimations; it touches and gently agitates the agreeable and sublime passions; it wraps us in melancholy, elevates us in joy and melts us in tenderness.  Ah! Music, music, art divine; thou dost  move and stir the heart as nothing else can do.  Yet never canst thou sweet potency be better used than when it expresses praise and gratitude to the great God and Master of us all.”  The words between the quotations are a recitation that I gave at performances of the Drug Store Cowboys before we launched into a rousing medley of gospel songs to bring an end to our program.  I believe I have mentioned the Cowboys in earlier issues of the Ramblings column, but to refresh your memory, it was a country/western band composed of pharmacists mostly back in the 80s.  My good friend and faithful Ramblings reader, Don, and I were charter members of this group.  Don was the lead vocalist and I played (carried) the banjo and we both shared MC duties.  We played in the bandstand at the CR Riverside Festival one year.  The highlight of our career was playing a performance at a national pharmacy convention at the Aladdin Hotel in Las Vegas.  The group has mainly disbanded but Don and two others (Bill and James) have continued to perform, primarily in the Little Rock area, as the Drug Store Cowboys Trio.  Don told me that they had four gigs lined up for this week (keep it up, guys).  Since we are on the subject of music and I mentioned piano lessons, maybe I should give a little space about my piano teachers.  My first teacher was Miss Ruby Kate Evans.  She was the daughter of Levi, one of the Evans brothers who owned the drug store.  She taught me all the basics such as the music staff, scales, key signatures, etc.  She was the church pianist and, after about three years of lessons, I began playing along with her on an old pump organ while she played the piano during the church services.  Miss Ruby Kate became ill and died when she was only 52 years old.  My next teacher was Mrs. Montgomery.  She taught me more of the fundamentals and the importance of timing.  My teacher for the next several years was Mrs. Gertrude Houck.  She taught me a love of the classics from composers like Chopin, Beethoven and other musical greats and had me playing pieces like “Minute Waltz,” “Moonlight Sonata” and other difficult selections plus fun things like boogie-woogie and ragtime numbers.  One of Mrs. Houck’s students from the early 50s, Bob Hudson, recently did a genealogy search and discovered that a German resident, Gertrude Fugmann, wed a WWI veteran, Alfred Houck, in New York, soon after crossing the Atlantic on the ship, SS St. Paul, on July 7, 1922.  The newlyweds left soon after and established their residence at Alfred’s ancestral home in or near Coffeyville, Kansas.  Our real interest begins when the Houcks moved to the Iuka community of Izard County, Arkansas, in the spring of 1942.  That fits my timetable because I became Mrs. Houck’s piano student in September, 1942 and studied with her for five years.  She was a concert pianist, a graduate of a conservatory in Germany.  She loved to perform.  At every recital, after the students had done their thing, she would explain that her pupils had asked her to play, so she did, in grand style.          

Ancient History - January 29, 2015

As published in the White River Current - Thursday January 29, 2015

Two weeks ago, after the newspaper was delivered to the subscribers, I began to receive questions and comments about the Rambling’s column, particularly about the incident when Jay Baker buzzed Calico Rock in his F-86 (?) fighter jet.  One of the readers (Gaye) notified me that she was related to Jay through the Matthews family. It seems like one thing always leads to another, particularly when you are sitting at your computer trying to beat the deadline for the next offering of your rambling thoughts.  Amazing what the old brain comes up with once you give it the opportunity.  Continuing with the thread that I started in the last column, Jay’s grandfather, Seth Matthews, was once the mayor of Calico Rock.  One of his granddaughters married Thomas Jones. (Note to self:  Self, ask Betty at bible study if Thomas and family still live in the Kansas City area).  Seth and family lived in the former VanWinkle house on the southwest corner of the old high school property, near where the present elementary school is located.  Mrs. VanWinkle, formerly Bethel Copp (sister of the doctor), was the high school math teacher.  She taught me everything that I needed to know about algebra (9^th grade) and geometry (10^th grade).  Perhaps I should mention some of my other teachers, Miss Hattie Croom, of course, was my first grade teacher (kindergarten hadn’t been invented yet).  She had been in the school system about forty years when I came along and she taught several more years afterward.  Mrs. Wilkerson taught the combined second and third grades.  She was a wonderful, kind person.  It was a giant leap from the third grade to the fourth grade where the teacher was Mrs. Maye Brumitt.  She was the former Maye Evans, youngest daughter of Leonard (Uncle Lynn) Evans, one of the brothers who owned the drug store.  She put the fear in us, scaring us with things like six-week tests, etc.  Thankfully she was about eight months pregnant and only stayed  a few weeks.  Very soon after her baby boy was born, she moved to California with her husband, Bud.  I don’t recall who the new teacher was.  My fifth grade teacher was Leola Perryman, wife of my cousin, Kenneth, who worked with his brother (Wm. Reed) and father (my uncle, J. Elbert) in the family hardware business.  Mrs. Tarkington was my sixth grade teacher.  Her husband was the high school principal.  All six grades were taught in rooms on the first floor of the old two-story school building.  By the way, there was no indoor plumbing in the building.  School offices and grades 7-12 were located on the building’s upper story which was accessed by two wide staircases.  The combination study hall/auditorium occupied about half of the upper story and was used as a classroom, also.  There were three other classrooms.  The agriculture and home economics buildings were located nearby.  The only surviving structure is the home-ec building which is listed in the National Registry of Historic Places.  Teachers in the high school included John Rollo, M. T. Mason, Bethel VanWinkle, Opal Toothaker, Rosa Mae Warren, Fred Bryson, James Bell, Euel Story, Maude Story, Gertrude Houck and probably some I can’t recall.  Many of you readers have never heard of any of the above named individuals but each one has in some manner had an influence on my life.  Here in the twilight of my life, I have come to the conclusion that sometimes (maybe) things don’t just happen, but occur for a particular reason.  Too many things cannot be explained by coincidence. We may not realize it at the time, but looking back we begin to wonder.  I will discuss Mrs. Houck and maybe some of the others mentioned in a future article.  Today, I want to finish this column with an excerpt from an article that I read recently.  It seems the Dalai Lama was resting at a lodge, when a young waitress inquired if she might ask the Dalai Lama a question.  With complete seriousness, she spoke “What is the meaning of life?”  The Dalai Lama answered, “Easy question.  The meaning of life is happiness.  Hard question is what make happiness.  Money?  Big House?  Accomplishment?  Friends?  Or…” He paused.  “Compassion and good heart?  This is question all human beings must try to answer: What make TRUE happiness?”  Wow!  I wish I’d said that.       

In with the new - January 15, 2015

As published in the White River Current - Thursday January 15, 2015

Goodness gracious, as my mother would say, here it is the middle of January, we have already seen two Season 5 episodes of  Downton Abbey and this is the first chance that I have had the opportunity to say “Happy New Year” to all you faithful readers.  I don’t know about you, but I didn’t make any resolutions this year so I can truthfully answer to anyone who poses the question, “No, I haven’t broken any yet.”  Did you hear the mill whistle at midnight New Year’s Eve?  Bobby’s mom, Gloria, called me the next morning to ask if I had heard it.  Bobby made a trade with Mark and now owns the old steam whistle that used to inform the flooring mill employees, at 7 AM on weekday mornings, that it was time to start work. (they always had a couple of get-ready toots at five minutes til).  He had rigged the whistle up to an air tank.  No, I didn.t hear it.  I might have stayed up if I had only known.  I sang “Auld Lang Syne” at about 10:30; couldn’t even stay awake long enough to see the ball drop at Times Square.  I feel like the old codger with the long white beard that the cartoonists portray as the old year that is ending.  I got an e-mail from Don (one of my readers) who wrote “You know, we realized we were getting pretty old when the New Year’s Eve music changed from Guy Lombardo’s stylish arrangements to some guy yelling ‘Who Let the Dogs Out?’”  Anyway, hope you all have a Happy, Healthy and Safe 2015.  I drove by the shell of the old Hamon’s building last week.  Nothing left but the four concrete walls and memories.  I then drove across the wagon bridge to old town.  I had heard that Mark had done a lot of cleaning and hauling off the junk from around the old Magnolia Petroleum Oil Company office building.  When I was a boy, my dad was the representative (consignee) of the oil company, sold and delivered Mobil gas and oil and kerosene to service stations and other dealers in the area.  Cindy took a photo of the old building which is beyond repair and will probably soon disappear from the Calico Rock landscape.  Hard to believe now, but I have seen flood waters up into the office of this historic building.  I asked Cindy to include her photo in this issue if she has the space.  Over the next several columns, I intend to write about families and individuals that have had, in some small or sometime large way, an influence on my life.  Some of these people are still living, many are not.  Most, but not all, are local.  Many you have known or heard about, some you have not.  I’ve been thinking about this for some time and have no idea where it is going but I am going to give it a try.  Let me know your comments.  In my last column, I referred to Tom* as my close friend and mentor.  He had a great influence on my writing the Ramblings column.  Sadly, Tom* passed away in January last year.  I want to add two others to the “Hail and Farewell” list.  Back in 2001, Anita and I decided to sell our motor home.  We placed an ad in the classifieds of the Baxter Bulletin and right away received a phone call from a couple of Mountain Home residents who wanted to come down and see our RV.  They arrived soon and introductions were made:  “I’m Jay Baker and this is my wife, Kitty,” the man said.  Early one afternoon, about 45 years earlier, I was attending to something near the front of the store when all at once I heard this very loud noise that sounded as if the entire top of the store was exploding.  I rushed out the front door in time to see a fighter jet airplane travelling very fast, then pulling straight up in a corkscrew fashion for several hundred feet before levelling out and heading back west. “ Probably Jay Baker,” someone said.  “He buzzed the Seth Matthews house.  Seth is Jay’s granddad.”  Jay admitted that was him alright.  He said that after he woke up his granddad, he continued up the river, making a low pass over his Aunt Fern Norman’s farm, finally making a low run up Main Street in Mt. Home.  They didn’t buy my RV.  Kitty didn’t like the green upholstery.  I never saw them again.  Jay, a 1948 graduate of MH High School, died December 27 at the age of 84.  Joe Wyatt, a pharmacist and mayor of Mountain View at the same time I was mayor of Calico Rock, died last fall at the age of 90.  We were classmates in Pharmacy School.  There’s not many of us left.   


Note from Steve:
We were in Calico Rock on Saturday January 17 so I went by the old Magnolia Petroleum Oil Company office building that dad mentions in this article to take a picture.  This is what it looks like today.  Notice the concrete piers on the right of the picture where the fuel tanks were mounted.  

            

Out with the old - December 31, 2014

As published in the White River Current - Wednesday December 31, 2014

It should have occurred to me, when I signed off two weeks ago, that the Current would be available on Wednesday this week because of the New Year’s holiday tomorrow.  I was all set for a Ramblings article about resolutions, etc. and the year that is before us.  Instead I am offering some thoughts about the year that is just ending and am giving another look at Christmas, which isn’t really over until January 6^th (look up “epiphany”).  Remember the Ozarks version of The Twelve Days of Christmas:  “…and a possum up a gum tree?”  Many people skip this important part of the Christmas season.  They start putting up decorations soon after Thanksgiving and they come down right after December 25^th.  I feel certain that all you loyal readers have been nice and not naughty and that Santa was very generous when he visited your home a few days ago.  Our family will not be getting together until Friday, two days into the New Year, but still within the Christmas season.  When the children marry and have families of their own and are scattered, the logistics of finding a time for everyone to be together can be problematic to say the least.  As a philosopher once observed, “you just do what you have to do.”  The entire month of December has a lot of meaning for the Perryman family.  My sister was born on December 1^st.  She would have been 90 this year.  My mom and dad were married on December 23^rd and Dad’s birthday was on December 24^th.  I remember years ago when we would ring the church bell for several minutes, drivers would toot their car horns and the flooring mill whistle would all announce the arrival of the New Year.  Nowadays I do my best to stay awake until the ball drops at Times Square, then it’s off to dreamland.  PBS had several holiday specials again this year.  I particularly enjoyed the Bing Crosby, Tennessee Ernie and Mormon Tabernacle Choir specials.  I just remembered an exceptional New Year’s Eve, probably 1950, when the Ozarks Cavaliers orchestra played for the fireman’s ball in Harrison.  These outstanding  musicians were students at the College of the Ozarks, located in Clarksville, Arkansas.  Two of my roommates, Fred (trumpet) and Don (vocals), and I (piano) were members of this group.  Great times.  Anyway, one of my favorite TV programs is “CBS Sunday Morning” which was first aired on January 28, 1979, with Charles Kuralt as program host.  The weekly show has run continuously ever since, with Charles Osgood  replacing the retiring Kuralt in April, 1994.  A regular feature, usually run on the last Sunday of the year, is called “Hail, and Farewell,” in which attention is given to celebrities or other persons of national importance who have died during the year.  This feature was part of the program this past Sunday.  Among those highlighted were the following:  Tom Magliozzi, who, with brother, Ray, made up the team known as Click and Clack, the Tappet Brothers, on the NPR show, “Car Talk,” on which they dispensed humor and advice about repairing cars; Movie stars Lauren Bacall, Robin Williams, Polly Bergen and James Garner; Stars from my childhood Mickey Rooney and Shirley Temple; Comedian Sid Caesar; singer/composer/political activist Pete Seeger; Phil Everly of the Everly Brothers Duo; and Paul Revere, leader of the Raiders.  All passed away this year.  Hail and Farewell.  We continue to mourn for those friends, relatives and area citizens that departed during the last twelve months.  I still greatly miss my friend and mentor, Tom* Johns, whose column appeared in this publication on alternate weeks with the Ramblings.  Also of mention is the loss of another Calico Rock Landmark.  The Hamon’s building, located in Pettersauce Alley, burned last week.  Back in the forties and Fifties, there were three grocery stores on lower Main Street, Floyd’s, Estes Brothers and Harris.  Ray and Audra Hamon erected and operated their business, selling groceries, dry goods, cattle feed and other supplies until their retirement, enduring several devastating floods, never giving up.  Both have been gone for several years but not forgotten.  Their granddaughter, Cindy, is editor of this newspaper.          

Christmas Blessings - December 18, 2014

As published in the White River Current - Thursday December 18, 2014

 

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas” so goes the popular song that comes over the airways this time of year.  Decorations are up on many residences  as well as the Main Street area down town and other business locations.  The Living Windows presentations by the Peppersauce Players was another smash hit this year.  Looks like (hopefully) this will continue to be an attraction for community residents and visitors for many years to come.  A big thanks to Fredericka and all the participants for a job well done.  Susan had a good article in her “Not So Long Ago” column week before last about Christmases of days gone by.  She interviewed members of several area churches in preparing her article.  I remember a Christmas party at the old church about seventy years ago.  Actually the party was at the American Legion building next door.  We played games and bobbed for apples in a number 2 wash tub.  The highlight of the evening was a debate between the high school superintendent, Mr. Rollo, and Mr. Cheney, both church members.  Their subject was “Is there really a Santa Claus?”  The fun part was how the two debaters had to work to not reveal any important details to the youngsters present which might result in upsetting their parents.  I don’t know if I described this well enough but maybe you get the idea.  The OFC had their Christmas party a few days ago.  We only have six members now since Darrell, a charter member, died last year.  During this meeting we voted that the last survivor would pop a can of Dr. Pepper and toast those who have gone to their reward.  I think that would be a very fitting tribute.  Speaking of songs, there is a new one being played this year that I have a little trouble with.  The name is something like “Just say Merry Christmas.”  Kind of a cute little ditty with a catchy tune. Lyrics suggest that if you are out shopping and you  don’t see “Merry Christmas” in the store window, you don’t “go in.”  Plus, if you happen to be in a store and you don’t hear “Merry Christmas” you “walk right out the door.”  Like I said, I have a little trouble with this.  I wonder what Jesus would do?  Again, speaking of songs, some of you long-time Rambling readers may remember that at one time I was working on a Christmas song.  I keep putting it aside (a family trait), fully intending to have it ready for the season.  Looks like it won’t happen this year; maybe by December, 2015.  Of course, as I have explained before, it can’t be just any song.  It has to be the best Christmas song ever.  I remember a song that was written by Steve Goodman back in the seventies that he represented as the most perfect country/western composition ever created.  One of his friends, David Allan Coe, challenged him on this statement, informing him that it wasn’t perfect because it didn’t contain certain words that should be in a real CW song; words like “mama,” “prison,” “pickup truck” and, of course, “trains.”  Goodman wrote another verse to the song and sent it to Coe who, after reading it, realized that his friend had written the perfect country & western song and that he felt obliged to include it in his next album.  The song, “You Never Even Call Me By My Name,” has been a two-stepper favorite at VFW dances since Coe recorded it in 1975.  You may not believe this, but I thought of this song when I was trying to decide what special words I should include in my Christmas song in order to make it perfect.  The list I have started includes “star,” “stable,” “baby” and “angels,” but I think I should add a few others in order to make the song more enduring to the listeners, whoever they may be.  I am considering some secular words and phrases such as “peanuts roasting on an open fire” or “I’m hoping for a White Christmas” but this is still a work in progress.  Like I say, maybe next year.  I have ruled out “trains” as one of the words even though a train actually does have a Christmas relation to Calico Rock residents.  Way back in the fifties, Santa (Dr. Copp) was welcomed by a huge crowd of youngsters when he arrived on the noon train on Christmas Eve, a tradition that lasted for many years.  I wish all you dedicated readers a very, Merry Christmas.  Make lots of good resolutions because the next time I see you will be New Year’s Day, 2015       

Death and Taxes - December 4, 2014

As published in the White River Current - Thursday December 4, 2014

My deepest apologies to those faithful readers who were upset when the Ramblings did not appear as scheduled in the Current two weeks ago.  Lucille, for one, came up to me at the grocery store informing me that she had searched the paper from front to back several times looking for her favorite column, but it was missing.  I thought she had a tear in her eye and might even be having Ramblings withdrawal symptoms.  I got her settled down and explained that the Ramblings column had been bumped to make room for the six pages of  the Delinquent Personal Tax List for the year of 2013 and that the column would appear in the next issue and again one week later.  Ramblings did, in fact, run in last week’s Current and here we are on the biweekly schedule again today.  Thanks, Lucille, for the support you have given me as a loyal reader of the Ramblings column for several years.  I do not remember being bumped before so maybe it won’t happen again.  However, I understand that the publication of such a list represents a sizable amount of revenue for this publication.  I suppose this gentle reminder to those listed will result in adding enough revenue to at least cover the publication costs.  Hope so.  On to other things.  We celebrated the Thanksgiving holiday with all our family at the home of our granddaughter, Sara, in Ozark, Missouri.  We had a very delightful day, especially watching the antics of our great-grandchildren who we hadn’t seen for quite some time.  We have a lot to be thankful for.  With additions from most of the others, Sara had prepared a delicious meal of traditional Thanksgiving food that was eagerly consumed by all present.  When I say “traditional” of course I mean turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes and giblet gravy, which were served, plus a few extras, including desserts.  At choir rehearsal several days ago, one couple announced that they were forgoing the usual event of having all the family over to their house and were, instead, going out to the Chinese restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner.  “Unbelievable, unpatriotic, etc.” we countered.  I’m not sure if they were joking or not but I guess it doesn’t really matter what the meal consists of as long as it is consumed with the right attitude of being thankful for what the Lord provides for any and all of us.  Did you get up early on Black Friday morning in order to take advantage of all those “bargains” that were out there?  I slept in.  Saturday we helped decorate the sanctuary at church to be ready for the first Sunday of Advent.  The lighting of the Advent candle is always a large part of our Sunday worship for the four Sundays preceding Christmas.  The choir members are also working hard on their anthems for this period.  Are you ready for a little culture?  I saw Charles skipping up the aisle at church a couple of Sundays ago.  Watching his cadence of Ta Ta-Ta-Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta, which I immediately recognized as the overture to the Nutcracker, Charles confessed that he and Janis had attended a performance of the North Arkansas Dance Theatre’s 10^th anniversary of this famous ballet by Russian composer, Tchaikovsky.  A front page article in the week before last Current announced this event.  Maybe you attended.  I wanted to go but didn’t make it. Charles said that he was “impressed.”  I was impressed that he was impressed.  I have been acquainted with the Nutcracker Suite since I was in high school and my piano teacher ordered me the piano music, which I still have.  I played one of my favorites, “Waltz of The Flowers” at a recital.  Another favorite is “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.”  The Nutcracker ballet was first presented in 1892 and has enjoyed enormous popularity since 1960.  It is now performed by countless ballet companies primarily during the Christmas season, especially in the United States.  If you didn’t attend the Dance Theatre performance, you can still watch the ballet from the comfort of your living room.  There are several selections to choose from on YouTube.  And if you just can’t make yourself watch the performers tippy-toeing across the screen, kick back in your lounge chair, close your eyes, turn up the volume and treat yourself to a Christmas musical treasure.  Enjoy!