I would be remiss if I did not get these photos posted, albeit very late. Apparently, each year over the last few years, Mickey's school has staged a re-enactment of the Pilgrams first thanksgiving. In years past the pageant was held at the town's library.
But this year, since the event has evidently outgrown the library, it was held at Town Hall.
There was a standing room only crowd! I was very glad I was able to attend. Unfortunately, Tom was still teaching in NYC and had to miss the performance, but I have no doubt there will be countless others in the years to come.
The pageant began with a lot of bla bla bla . . .
. . . and then the spectacle began. We began, of course, with bossy monarchs, King James and and his misses.
After they spouted off (and giggled and blushed), we spotted the Mayflower crossing the Atlantic and witnessed the old girl landing in Plymouth, Massachusetts. We all watched in awe (and amusement) as each and every Pilgram climbed off the ship and stepped foot on Plymouth Rock.
The Pilgrams were soon greeted by the only real thing that interested this old man, the Native Americans, or rather, one particular Native American.
And then, horror of horrors, the star Native American (not really the star, but this is his Daddy, remember), the star Native American experienced a wardrobe malfunction, and he was completely thrown (I hate it when he lets that happen to him - not the malfunction, the thrown part - "just keep going, don't act like nothing wrong has happened, no one will notice, yakka yakka yakka). Like every professional actor I have worked with who found themselves in just such a predicament, he threw looks of desperation offstage to Mrs. Lampman and Mrs. Briggs, I mean, his director and stage manager.
Well, somehow, he composed himself and was able to bang his tom tom with aplomb. Granted, it wasn't when he was supposed to, but everyone was able to hear him loud and clear.
Afterward, the Native Americans (you know, it's more fun to say wild Indians), were corralled and herded back to the bus.
As their line slowly inched its way through the crowd, the star Native American and his Daddy made faces at each other to pass the time.
We all made our separate ways to the grade school where we were treated to a Thanksgiving feast prepared by the children (and I'm sure a few teachers) of grades K through 4.
(Sorry for the blury and dark photos. I hate using flash, but even when I did use flash the distance was just too much and the flash was pointless. )
But this year, since the event has evidently outgrown the library, it was held at Town Hall.
There was a standing room only crowd! I was very glad I was able to attend. Unfortunately, Tom was still teaching in NYC and had to miss the performance, but I have no doubt there will be countless others in the years to come.
The pageant began with a lot of bla bla bla . . .
. . . and then the spectacle began. We began, of course, with bossy monarchs, King James and and his misses.
After they spouted off (and giggled and blushed), we spotted the Mayflower crossing the Atlantic and witnessed the old girl landing in Plymouth, Massachusetts. We all watched in awe (and amusement) as each and every Pilgram climbed off the ship and stepped foot on Plymouth Rock.
The Pilgrams were soon greeted by the only real thing that interested this old man, the Native Americans, or rather, one particular Native American.
And then, horror of horrors, the star Native American (not really the star, but this is his Daddy, remember), the star Native American experienced a wardrobe malfunction, and he was completely thrown (I hate it when he lets that happen to him - not the malfunction, the thrown part - "just keep going, don't act like nothing wrong has happened, no one will notice, yakka yakka yakka). Like every professional actor I have worked with who found themselves in just such a predicament, he threw looks of desperation offstage to Mrs. Lampman and Mrs. Briggs, I mean, his director and stage manager.
Well, somehow, he composed himself and was able to bang his tom tom with aplomb. Granted, it wasn't when he was supposed to, but everyone was able to hear him loud and clear.
Afterward, the Native Americans (you know, it's more fun to say wild Indians), were corralled and herded back to the bus.
As their line slowly inched its way through the crowd, the star Native American and his Daddy made faces at each other to pass the time.
We all made our separate ways to the grade school where we were treated to a Thanksgiving feast prepared by the children (and I'm sure a few teachers) of grades K through 4.
(Sorry for the blury and dark photos. I hate using flash, but even when I did use flash the distance was just too much and the flash was pointless. )