Brunch at West Side Market Cafe and Rockettes

Yesterday was a fun little girls’ day out with two of my sisters, my mom and my 5 year-old niece.   A few months ago I picked up some tickets to go see the Sunday matinee performance of Rockettes Radio City Christmas Spectacular.    Again, as we did before going to see Wicked earlier in the year at PlayhouseSquare, we had brunch at the West Side Market Cafe.   Mostly, because I love the Benedict Arnold and hashbrowns, a big plate of eggs benedict with grilled tomato and chunks of avocado.     Despite my sisters’ fears that we’d be late for the show, our food at the cafe came pretty fast and we made it to the show 15 minutes early.  

The show was a lot of fun, especially for my mom and my 5 year-old niece.   I do think I appreciate productions with a storyline to follow more than I appreciated this, though it was a fun show to see regardless.   And the best part for me, which, in this politically correct world of ours truly shocked me that it hasn’t been axed from the show since 1933 when it first started, was the last scene, The Living Nativity.  This depiction of the nativity scene was beautiful, with a performance of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing!” and a narration of the following text:

One Solitary Life
He was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another obscure village, where He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty. Then for three years He was an itinerant preacher. He never had a family or owned a home. He never set foot inside a big city. He never traveled two hundred miles from the place He was born. He never wrote a book, or held an office. He did none of the things that usually accompany greatness. While He was still a young man, the tide of popular opinion turned against Him. His friends deserted Him. He was turned over to His enemies, and went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. While He was dying, His executioners gambled for the only piece of property He had — His coat. When He was dead, He was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave. Two thousand years have come and gone, and today He is the central figure for much of the human race. All the armies that ever marched and all the navies that ever sailed and all the parliaments that ever sat and all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man upon this earth as powerfully as this “One Solitary Life.”

The origins of this essay can be found here.

Until next time,

Lorelei

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