This was our first Christmas without family or close friends near-by, so to get in the holiday spirit, Joe and I decided to buy tickets to a production of A Christmas Carol at the local theatre. It turned out to be an experience full of surprises!

We had the tickets several weeks in advance and were actually really looking forward seeing our first play in German. As an early Christmas gift, Joe gave me the Robert Zemeckis version of Eine Weihnachts Geschichte on DVD and we watched it in English (with German subtitles) as a refresher. I played Ebenezer Scrooge in the 6th grade Holiday Play, so I needed little to trigger my memory of the story’s details! (To be honest, I had to write most of my lines 25 times each because I kept messing them up. I can still recite several of them today. However, the demise of my acting career is a tale for another time.)

Surprise #1 – The day before the production, a friend told Joe that it would be presented in English. Oh, really?! We were disappointed, but more so confused about how this critical piece of information went un-noticed.

Surprise #2 – We decided to go to the Christmas market before the show started and have dinner there. The theater was on the same street as the market, so we stopped by to confirm what time the doors opened. The poster on the window advertised, “A Christmas Carol – Brian Barnes, One Man Theatre”. Oh, really? This detail must have been lost in translation. For the entirety of dinner, we contemplated how it would be possible to reenact the story with only one person. Joe’s hypothesis: holograms. Mine: smoke and mirrors.

We got into the theater and found a seat. The stage contained only 5 items: a desk, a chair, a coat rack, a sleeping jacket, and a night cap. Ok, a prop-less, back drop-less, one man theatre it is! Then a weird phone started ringing. Not someone’s cell phone, but an old-school real phone, from somewhere within the theater. Joe leans in for his best Brian Barnes impression, “I’m sorry, its Brian. I’m sick. The show is cancelled.” The phone rings again a few minutes later. Me, “Hi, its Brian. I really am hung over. Do I have an under-study?” It rings a third time, some minutes later. “Perhaps someone in the audience can do the show. You really only need just one.”

So it begins. One man who is at least 70 years old, five props, and two native English speakers at the English presentation of A Christmas Carol. Here comes surprise #3 – all the Germans, for whom English is a second language don’t forget, are laughing at jokes…in English…that I don’t get! Oh, really? What is going on here?!

We sit for an hour and a half straight, fixated on one man telling the story of one Christmas Eve in London. It was amazing. He was a true story-teller, with no pomp and circumstance needed to weave a tale of fear, enlightenment, and redemption. A reminder of the forgotten entertainment of yesteryear.

After thunderous applause from the audience of 50ish, he uttered the only three German words of the evening, “Would you like eine kleine Zugabe?” (a small encore?)

As we walked home I pondered the last surprising realization for the evening (#4): How can a 70+ year old man remember a 90+ minute monologue, while I struggle to remember 5- vocabulary words in German from one day to the next?

God bless us, everyone!