What would baby Jesus say?

Dear Symphony Orchestra Chairwoman,

I recently attended your holiday pops concert, and I observed a number of troubling things throughout the evening that I would like to bring to your attention.

First, if you'll permit me, a few words about the musical program. Your conductor kept saying that the evening's theme was "jazzy." You and I both know that a Tchaikovsky quartet and Victorian Christmas carols are, in fact, not jazzy at all. People in our small town may not be as sophisticated as some, but we know the difference between jazz and 19th century Russian compositions.

Owing to the lack of a musical theme and the conductor's assertions to the contrary, I have heard the concert called "a total shit show" by one of my friends. In the future, please assure the conductor that he does not need to create a false theme for a holiday concert because the holidays are the theme. We all know that pops means variety/shit.

Secondly, I would like to point out how the conductor was sexually objectified throughout the evening. Our newspaper and all of your marketing materials are saturated with information about his young age, unmarried status, height, and supposed charm. Please let each man and woman make of that information what they will. You are not required to publicly declare him "tall, dark, and handsome" and "the most eligible bachelor in town." Nor are you required to print, on the first page of the program, an invitation for patrons to "fall in love with the music" beside a casual photograph of the conductor. A flirty speech about his new custom-fit tuxedo, with a deliberate pause for audience reaction, is likewise unnecessary. (Would you have liked me to imagine the tailor measuring his inseam?)

This institutionalized fawning only inflates the conductor's arrogance, and it chips away at the dignity of his professional accomplishments. I understand how hard it will be to keep the innuendo off the stage and out of the program. Yes, we were all excited to hear that an employed, single young man had moved here, and, let's face it, his European accent is frosting on the cake. However, let us use the opportunity to practice composure and at least pretend that we value his life's work more than his full head of hair.

If I take offense to mild sexual objectification, it will come as no surprise to you that I regarded the guest soprano's behavior as wanton: The salacious photograph in the program and local newspaper. The costume changes between songs, from one cleavage-bearing dress to another. The way in which she opened the show -- sauntering down the aisle under a spotlight, sitting on men's laps and kissing their foreheads. The way she kept purring "maestro" into the microphone as she touched the conductor's arm.

If I had been in the position of the guest singer -- if my voice were superficial and if I were accompanied by an amateur symphony -- would I have tried to distract the audience with my breasts? Would I have set aside the celebration of our Savior's birth in favor of soft-core sexual exploitation using a slinky red sequined dress and a throaty laugh? Absolutely not. That's not o.k.

In this season, reverence and solemnity are where it's at. The singer's lounge act had no place at this concert. Sure, the flagging economy has you looking for ways to drive up ticket sales. You felt good after the concert when the wealthy male patrons, who normally doze off during your concerts, thanked you for an entertaining evening. All I'm requesting is that the singer-conductor foreplay be confined to the summer pops concerts when the warm weather is better suited to the various states of undress that "Candy" and her ilk seem to prefer.

Finally, dear chairwoman, I was troubled by the choice of sing-along songs at the end of the concert. Since you also attended the concert, you undoubtedly noticed that only 10% of the audience was actually singing along and the remaining 90% were either struggling or silent. Clearly, a Christmas song about marshmallows was a bad idea. Also, given our geographic isolation and homogeneously white population, you cannot trust everyone to grasp the lyrics to Feliz Navidad at such a fast tempo. Next year, I would suggest that all of the lyrics be in English.

Thank you for your kind consideration of my suggestions for next year's holiday concert. I look forward to a more reverent performance in 2009.

Gracias,
Punk Tilly