"It's no good," I say. "I can't get them to remember it."
We're in the middle of a slightly tense nativity play rehearsal and I'm taking the children through the final song, written earlier this morning following the sudden realisation that without music, Mary and Joseph will make their entire epic journey to Bethlehem ('Circle twice round the shepherds and for heavens sake don't fall over the lamb again, Mary') in complete silence.
The parameters for the song - short, punchy and memorable - have resulted in a fairly feeble effort which does the job - but with one slight flaw. I've rhymed 'Mary' with 'weary' - a lazy rhyme that is coming home to roost, and doing a good job of mixing metaphors in the process as it lands heavily on my shoulder and utters a loud, self-satisfied squawk.
"Children, it's not 'wary' - that would mean that Mary was a little bit cautious. And she may be cautious, after all, they haven't got anywhere to stay and the baby's going to be born soon, but she's actually weary - which means tired. Can you all say 'weary'? After me. 1, 2, 3, 4 -'
"Wary," chorus the children.
"Not wary..... weary."
The deputy head who's producing the play, has already had a tough afternoon, what with moving a bunch of heavy benches for the children to sit on having played havoc with her pelvic floor, and this latest development appears to be having a similar effect on her facial muscles, which are sagging noticeably.
"Isn't there anything you can do?" she asks.
"All I can think of is simplifying the song," I say.
"How would that work," she asks, tiredly.
"I'm not sure," I say. "But the way things are going, I'd suggest lyrics on the lines of 'Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas'. Then we could tweak it for the Spring term: 'Easter, Easter, Easter, Easter, Easter, Easter,' In fact," I say, "It's got almost infinite potential. Take the Autumn term."
"Let me guess," she says. "Harvest, Harvest, Harvest - "
"You've got it," I say. "Am I fired yet?"
"Oh come on," she says. "Let's have one more go at the words."
"Or die trying," I say.
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13 comments:
Given your daily ordeals at the coal face of Christian worship, I'm not surprised you sometimes sound a little, shall we say, disenchanted with the entire business. Hang on in there, can't be long till the end of term.
Omega Mum, where is your imagination? Mary is such an easy rhyme. There's fairy, scary, hairy, dairy, vary...
Bethlehem in sight, and here comes Mary
It's not Hallowe'en, so there's nothing scary
Joseph is with her, beardy, hairy,
Angel Gabriel looked a bit like a fairy
A baby likes milk, so let's hope there's a dairy
She's on a donkey again this year, the story doesn't vary.
This kicking-the-blogging-habit thing is harder than I thought.
I'm sure you can use a previous comment of mine. It's not TOO incriminating, is it?
Oh you poor poor thing! I have been trying to find alternatives for you - ones which would not involve your changing the whole song. Let's see now; what could Mary be instead of 'wary'.... Well she could be chary, of course; she's likely to have been pretty chary, come to that, what with taxes and all, and nowhere to stay... But on the whole I don't think the children would understand the underlying subtleties - and it's politically not awfully correct, is it.
Fairy? No, you'd have to stretch it wildly to get that one one in....
She could of course be hairy. Or the donkey could - but omg, you'd have your work cut out weaving that one into the lyric!
i,j,k,l (lairy - is there such a word, and would it do? No, probably not.)
m,n,o,p,q,r,s,t,u,v,w,x,y,z........
Nope, not another one that I can see. I haven't tried the combinations of letters of course, but then I haven't got all day to be devoting to your misguided lyric, have I?
You'll just have to re-write the lyric I'm afraid. That, or give the children something meaningful to chant or hum, as they circle the crib.... A cheery concerted whistle might do it. But then again, how many of the kids could whistle - and how long would it take you to teach the ones who couldn't?
(I haven't really helped you much, have I?)
That comment was whisked away before I'd read it through. I can only apologise for any typos therefore....
You have to laugh!!
Of course, you are assuming that the parents of these kids will know the difference between 'wary' and 'weary'. I wouldn't be so certain of that...
I cannot imagine how you got roped into this in the first place - really you must be a masochist.. you could have rhymed "Hairy" with Mary instead of "weary" which does nicely rhyme with "beery" by the way. No one would notice as I am sure Mary was hairy...
These school plays can be such a bugger to arrange can't they. Just keep going though, before you know it Easter will be here anyway.
Crystal xx
I like your solution, I'm still smiling.
I've had another idea. Be radical. Change the main player's name to Meary.
If you were in Scotland, that is how the children would say the name anyway. Could you find one Scottish child in the school? Then you could say that you want every child to feel included, so you are using the new pronounciation in line with the school's Policy on Cultural Sensitivity and Anti-Marginalisation (I bet it has one).
Mary...Hmm...let's see.
Hairy?
Fairy?
Dairy?
Jim Carey?
Wary? (Mya ducks)
Lairy?
Blairy?
Oh I dunno.
Mya x
HA HA. That made me burst into laughter!
M@L: I'm trying....I'm trying. I can't help but feel that at least the rudiments of some religious belief would come in useful here.
Iota: Why bother with imagination when I have your comments to see me through. It's already set to music and it zips along. So glad you're back (though you never really went away, did you? - and thank heaven for that).
IB: Posted with the voice of experience. You're not in fact a very much improved version of me, are you?
IB: Typos, Schmypos - keep the comments coming. You are my social life.
Casdok: You do? You're sure? OK, then.....
Potty Mummy: Unfortunately it's the teachers who are more of a problem. They keep bringing it to my attention. Any moment now I expect to get back my lyrics with red pen all over them and a mark out of ten.
Mutley: There's a national shortage of music teachers. Play thh piano without soundproofing and Andrew Lloyd Weber has you rounded up, trained to use maracas and in a needy school before you can whistle 'Now that's what I call press-ganging'. It's a nightmare.
CJ: Can I come and teach swimming with you, instead?
Lady M: Just wait till you hear the tune. It's unbelievably catchy. And I'm the Sugar Plum Fairy.
Iota: Left field brilliance or what? OK. Have ditched your original version and suggested script alterations to the staff. They'll love it. Would you like cash or a share of the royalties? Or to be paid in kilts? Take your pick.
Mya: Jim Carey. But of course. Brilliant.
Snuffles: I am so glad. At this time of year, we all need them. (laughs, I mean). And I will be over soon. Promise.
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