Recently, I went to my storage space…
…FYI, I’ve talked about my storage space SO much (due to the THREE times I downsized said storage space) THAT I now sing a little song about it when I tell friends I’m going to my STORAAAGGGEEE SPAAAAACE…
…so, I went to my STROOOORAAAGGGEEE SPACCCCCEEEEEE to get my little Christmas tree and ornaments.
I threw that artificial evergreen in the back of my Subaru, drove it down the DVP, dragged it up to my condo, put it in it’s predestined space, plugged the lights in…AND they didn’t work.
I tried everything.
Okay, to be fair EVERYTHING was plugging and unplugging it about fifty times.
I’m not electrics…I went to school for musical theatre.
It was about this time that I realized the tree had…a smell.
AND it was about THIS time that I noticed that I was having an allergic reaction to the smell and/or the tree.
No lie.
Hands all itchy, eyes all weepy and asthma starting.
Thanks to therapy I don’t suffer bullshit for very long anymore, so I donned gloves, a handy mask and took that little tree down to the garbage room.

And I have to tell you, while I was resigned about it, I was a BIT sad to throw it away because it was my first solo tree.

In 2018, my first solo Christmas after my marriage imploded (god, those words…I hope soon to never write them again…they are just boring BUT makes shit clear for new readers) , I was up at my place in Stratford and realized…much like I would realize five years later that I was suddenly having an tree-induced allergy attack…I realized that I didn’t feel like I was allowed Christmas, either as a recently traumatized person OR solo person…or maybe both.
I believed somewhere deep inside of me that I didn’t get to celebrate OR enjoy my favourite time of year because I was, for all intents and purposes, alone and gross.

Don’t get me wrong, I had MANY friends and family who were supporting me BUT I could NOT face seeing anyone at Christmas…which almost gave my sister a heart attack.
People from every part of my life…even kind people that I barely knew…invited me to Christmas dinner and to parties.
But I politely said no to all of them, mostly because I could NOT stand the thought of anyone feeling sorry for me but also because I felt…um…other.
To be frank, it felt like I was living in a whole different parallel universe at the time.
ALSO ALSO, I was worried that there was a VERY good chance that my emotions would take a drastic turn and I would burst into tears at a song, or get hysterical looking at a seasonal decoration or insert mad event here…and wreck someone else’s holiday celebration.
No one wanted that, least of all me.
So, alone it was…well, not totally…but I’ll get to that.

BUT when I realized that I didn’t think I was ALLOWED to celebrate the holiday…even if it was on my own…I got in my car and drove through the kind of strange blizzard conditions that ONLY exist in Stratford and got myself a little artificial tree from Cozyn’s Garden Store.
It was a weeping sort of evergreen (fitting) and stood about three feet high.
I see now that in some way, I didn’t believe that I was ready for a full Christmas tree OR a full Christmas…a sad little one was all I could emotionally manage.

Now, every year since, my personal-space celebration is getting grander.
After I dumped the toxic-allergy-tree that the universe was telling me was too small for my joy, I put on my coat and walked across to the Canadian Tire and got a 7 FOOT TREE.
It’s so fucking tall that I had to bend the top down…insert hysterical joke here.
I put my ornaments on it…but the tree seemed bare.
The next day, I went out, bought some garlands and wound them around the tree.
The day after that, I got another garland and fished out my old Christmas cards…I keep them all…strung up the garland and put the cards on it.
The day after THAT, I saw some coloured bells at a market and I put THEM on the tree.
Then yesterday, I saw a box of candy canes at the grocery store and just as I thought, “I live in a condo so no one really sees the tree but me and my dog so why would I…” I grabbed them.
Now, my tree is festooned with tiny little candy canes.
I even bought a friggen poinsettia from the One Of A Kind Show (it’s in a canvas pot with the words THIRSTY BITCH across the front because it seems I cannot leave the OOAKS without an irreverent piece of art) that is presently sitting on my kitchen island.

Now, I’m writing all of this because I honestly don’t want anyone out there to believe they cannot celebrate the season in their very own fucking way…just for themselves.
Just.
For.
You.
Celebrations and decorations don’t require more than one human to appreciate them.
You get to kick-it-up however you choose.
CHOOSE JOY!!!

Okay.
I have to tell you a secret.
Today was the first day that I really missed doing my Christmas Sing A-Long.
I miss it.
I’m not sure if I wanna do it again, but I miss it.
TWO THINGS TRUE AT ONCE.
The last SHARRON’S NOT SO SILENT NIGHT that happened just three months before the world shut down, just one year after my first solo Christmas, was my FAVOURITE ONE EVER.
It was my second time doing the sing a-long with on my own.
Yes, I did all the other iterations with my ex person.
I know..IMPLOSION…I did not lie about that.
The first time was…wow…it was something, to say the very least.
The first alone show was beautiful and so very hard.
I walked out at the top of the show, breakable as old china, to a standing ovation.
It’s so weird that almost everyone in that audience knew my story…I wrote about it after all…but it was still weird.
BUT the second show the NEXT year?
Killer.
I was in my body…the show was stellar…and the audience was filled to the brim with joy…and I was well on my way to not feeling OTHER anymore.

That night I told a story.
It might be true.
It might not.

Who is to say?

But to honour it and how much joy I had writing it AND telling it, I wanted to print it out here along with the songs I sang inside of it.
I gotta tell you, I was pleased to find that I’d saved it on my computer.

Yes indeed, I had such a very good time…telling this story.
And again…it may OR may NOT be true. : )

Happy Holidays Humans.

Make your own joy…don’t wait for anyone to tell you that you’re worthy of it…decide it for yourself.
It will change your life.

And who knows, sometimes when you’re down as eff…a gift might show up on your door step.

 

THE YEAR BURT REYNOLDS CAME

A Christmas Tale By Sharron Matthews as told in December 2019

 

 

(SUZY SNOWFLAKE written by Sid Tepper and Roy C. Bennett)

SUNG:
Here comes Suzy Snowflake
Dressed in a snow-white gown
Tap, tap, tappin’ at your windowpane
To tell you she’s in town

SPOKEN:
So, Christmas is a bit different for me now.
After I finished this sing a-long last year, I put all this shit (indicates the Christmas tree, all the lights and Mike Bickerton’s tamborine) in my car and drove back to Stratford…
…but what you don’t know…
…what you DON’T know…
… is that there was gentleman caller waiting for me out front of my house in a twenty year old Chevy truck.
Uh huh.
I had a beau, y’all.
Okay, calm down, NOT a beau I went outside into the world with, people, god no.
I wasn’t ready for THAT yet, BUT y’all, I had a beau all the same.

This guy and I…
…we’d not know each other for long…
…he was young…
…he was…
…well, he was about fifteen years older than his Chevy Truck.
And he was…
…well, I called him Burt Reynolds.
Oh ya! CONTEXT!
So, I had names for all the guys I “dated” last year (the year was 2018, people).
There was Irish #1…
…and I there was an Irish #1 because there was ALSO an Irish #2…
…and, because all good things come in threes, there was an Irish #3.
There real names were Sean, Colin and Stephen.
Which number went with which name, you ask?
Well, I honestly could not tell you right now.

(GIANT PAUSE)

Namasté, am I right?
But this guy…
…this Burt Reynolds…
…well, he was a pocket rocket, people.
Vroom.
Um.
Do you wanna know why I called him Burt Reynolds?
Well, some of you are going to be too young to remember this…but SOME of you WILL remember that famous Playgirl center fold of Burt Reynolds?

If not…google it.
I’ll wait.

OH. I have visuals here…let me just SHOW you the picture.

(The picture pops up on screen)

Oh yes. That.
He reminded me of him. My lord and Taylor, yes he did.

You see…and oh yes…my life has changed, people.

SUNG:
Here comes Suzy Snowflake
Soon you will hear her say
Come out ev’ryone and play with me
I haven’t long to stay

Uh huh.
So, the night I finished the sing a-long last year, I drove like a bat out of hell, and arrived home to see his Chevy Truck idling right out front of my place.

So, yes, people, he and I spent that night together and he gave me…
…THE FUCKING FLU!
Yes!!!
That little, gorgeous shit mainlined me a virus.
Two days later, I WAS SICK AS A DOG!!!

AND A WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS TO BOOT!

BUT LET ME TELL YOU THIS, PEOPLE…It was kind of worth it.

But STILL, while possibly worth it, THIS was my first solo Christmas and here I was sick as a dog.
Oh, I cried…
…yes, I wept like a baby but don’t tell my sister…who is sitting right there.

(indicates sister in audience)

And I cried because by the time that I decided that I did not want to be alone, that I realized I should probably NOT be alone, I had no choice BUT TO BE ALONE because I was the aforementioned SICK AS A DOG.

The universe is a strange bitch. 

So, it was Christmas Day, and while I was knee deep in regret, Vick’s Vaporub and a terrible dinner I was making for myself lots of people came by…
…lots of people to whom I am forever grateful.
They came by to drop off cakes and cookies and booze…and to make sure I wasn’t dead…or on my way to dead.
The usual, right?
But I could not invite them in.
Because…so sick…so so sick.
Let’s be honest, it was fucking pitiful.

But at 9:00pm on Christmas night there was a knock on the front door.
I just assumed it was another person making sure I was okay, which was right sweet.
But it was him.
It was fucking Burt Reynolds.
Standing there at my door.
On Christmas Day Evening.

I asked him what the eff he was doing there and he told me he felt terrible that he’d made me sick, and since he was still a little sick he thought that we could be sick together…on Christmas.
I was so surprised and not a bit overwhelmed, so I turned to comedy,  joking that his parents must be missing him and then he asked me if I really wanted to travel that road of reason.
I agreed that NO one wanted to travel that road while I stood in front of this very handsome younger man in old pajama pants, camp socks, an ACDC t-shirt with the neck cut out and my favourite chenille robe.
We just stood there staring at each other.
He finally asked if I was going to invite him in.
I moved back and in he waltzed with a wicked grin on his face.
He strolled STRAIGHT into my kitchen like he paid rent.
That VERY HANDSOME 35 year old man just walked into my kitchen, like he owned the place.

Who the eff did he think he was?

(Bad Guy written by Billie Eillish)

SUNG:
So you’re a tough guy
Like it really rough guy
Just can’t get enough guy
Chest always so puffed guy
I’m that bad type
Make your mama sad type
Make your girlfriend mad tight
Might seduce your dad type
I’m the bad guy, duh

Burt put his satchel on my white marble counter…
…oh, yes young men these days carry satchels…
…and inside said satchel, he had a zip drive of some old movies…
…a bottle of champagne…
…hot chocolate fixings WITH tiny marsh mellows.
After he unpacked it all, Burt Reynolds turned and said, “Now, I know you don’t smoke pot…but I baked you this cookie, if you are up for it. I will give you a quarter of it…and if you are fine we will give you another quarter…BUT only if you’re up for it”

SUNG:
I’m a bad guy…duh…

So I ate that cookie and for a half hour we just sat and talked and I felt nothing so I had another quarter…and then?

WE watched all these movies…And I EXCLAIMED THAT THEY WERE THE BEST MOVIES I’D EVER FRIGGEN SEEN!

SUNG:
I’m dreaming of a White Christmas
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
God bless us everyone

Then we drank the champagne and I exclaimed that it WAS THE BEST CHAMPAGNE I’D EVER HAD IN MY LIFE!!

THE he made me the hot chocolate and I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear THAT IT WAS THE BEST HOT CHOCOLATE EVER MADE IN THE SHOW BELT!

WHY, OH WHY,  WHY HAD I EVER STOPPED THE POT!!?!?

And then, you guys?

I proceeded to give him the flu right back…THE BEST FLU I’VE EVER GIVEN OR RECEIVED.
LIKE, RIGHT BACK.
LIKE REALLY REALLY RIGHT BACK.

The next morning I woke up to him putting a tray…FROM MY KITCHEN…onto my bed with a little cute breakfast on it, alongside some Advil Cold and Flu.
And then, he tucked me back in, put on his big winter boots, got into his Chevy Truck and drove back to his farm.
Oh yes, Burt Reynolds was a farmer…probably still is.
Oh, Burt Reynolds.

(TAKES A PAUSE TO PONDER)

So, let me say this.
That was almost my best Christmas ever…LIKE ever, ever.
AND I’m only saying ALMOST because my family is here.
It was, as the kids say, everything.
Sigh.
That was sort of mine and Burt Reynolds last really fun time together…but I’m so very grateful to him. He saved that day for me. He gave me the flu AND one of the best Christmases ever.

TWO THINGS TRUE AT ONCE.

But, yes, I didn’t see him much after that night…young guys are hard, y’all.
Literally.
AND, they are also difficult.
But while Burt Reynolds was in my life, he was exactly what I needed at the time and THEN I sent him off to his forever home.
Yes, I said it…because…

SUNG:
I’m that bad type
Make your mama sad type
Make your girlfriend mad tight
Might seduce your dad type
I’m the bad guy, duh ….into

THE END : )

Here are some pictures from the 2019 Sharron’s Not So Silent Night : A CHRISTMAS SING A-LONG.