The 12 Blogs of Christmas: Part 7 "Programmed to Fail"

When I was younger, my church loved to do a Christmas program with the kids.  Usually this meant that there was a telling of the Biblical Christmas story, intertwined with Christmas hymns, as we performed our best interpretations of a shepherd or wise man in our fathers’ bathrobes. For some reason it was way cooler to be a shepherd. Probably because they got to where a badass shepherds’ bandana and carry a staff. If you happened to be a wise man, you at least hoped to be the one who was giving gold. What the heck is “Frankenstein” anyway? And nobody wanted to be Joseph. Boring!

"Errr... Even Frankincense no want be Joseph! ... Errrr!!!"

You may have grown up doing similar programs. I’m not sure why I don’t see these happen as much anymore, but perhaps thats a thought process for another blog. The reason I bring it up is because this annual program was predictable and easy. Sure we didn’t love doing it, but at least it required minimal effort… until one Christmas.

The adults had gotten together and decided it would be a good idea to try a new program. This was a full on children’s musical about how a Sherlock Holmes-like character discovers the meaning of Christmas. Guess who got to play the role of Sherlock? That’s right… little Greg Wallace Dolmage.

"It's mystery solving time, punks!"

Of course I loved all the attention, but then I found out I had to sing a solo. Holy crap! Not only did I have to memorize a bunch of lines, but I also had to sing a song from memory with no back up! It was a bit stressful.

Well, the big night came and I was as nervous as a pony in a glue factory. The show started and I was actually remembering my lines and people were laughing. Then came my big solo. It was a song called “Elementary,” in which I explain how simple it is to discover the truth to my good friend, Watstein. With a voice of an angel and a heart of a lion, I stood up to the microphone and knocked it out of the park… is what would have happened if I had not forgotten my lines...

… awkward.

It was miserable. My mind was a total blank as everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats. All that could be heard was the crappy background music and me mumbling at the mic. I thought my life was over, but the show went on. At the after-party (meaning the church basement with dry cookies and fruit drink). I assumed that everybody was talking about and laughing at me, but after a while I realized that nobody seemed to care.

Now, as I sit here recounting this story as a 30-year-old man, I can’t help but think that this horrible moment may have been one of the best things to happen to me. It didn't break me. Sure! My pride took a hit, but life moved on. I failed and I was fine.

It is a silly thing to fear failure. What better way is there to grow, develop, and stay humble all at the same time? So for this Christmas, I wish you all many failures that will shape and develop you into quality people. It's not rocket science... it's elementary, my dear Watstein.

"Way to bring it back, Greg!"