10 December 2006
26 thou shalt find the winter's rage freeze thy blood less coldly
today i walked behind this woman. she was wearing a plaid scarf, a jaunty hat with a feather, and bursting with christmas cheer.
i thought: there's a caroler.
in an era where people drive their trick-or-treating kids to the nice neighborhoods, caroling seems kind of passe. rather like being in a madrigal guild or playing the lute.
as a result, only the hardcore devotees carol. and, let's face it, it's the hardcore devotees who are often the most frightful. they're so earnest it hurts to watch.
this woman wasn't frightful and she wasn't actually caroling. she was just going down the street. but the scarf, the hat, the skipping walk. it all screamed caroler.
i felt bad, though, for being judgemental. i thought, maybe she isn't a caroler. she looks very nice and happy. maybe she's someone who just has a very caroly sense of fashion. i am a horrible, rotten person because i've stereotyped this perfectly lovely looking woman as a caroler simply because she thought a yankee doodle dandy hat was a good idea.
just then a group of similarly scarved and hatted, freakishly enthusiastic people lept out of nowhere from around a corner, beamed at this woman, and immediately burst into a rousing chorus of "good king wenseslas."
i exclaimed, shit! and immediately fled from the frightful caroling freaks.