During our trip to Chicago, we splurged on “high tea” at the Drake Hotel. It was ridiculous and fun. The best part was that for the first half of the meal there was a harpist playing, and then for the second half there were three professional carolers roaming the dining room, singing a tune for each table. (For us, Lisa requested “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.”)
I noticed a sad trend, though: at many (most?) tables, when the carolers got to them, the diners each lifted their phones up to record videos. The carolers were maybe five feet away, and the phone seemed clutched like a shield, a tool to distance oneself from the intensity of being sung to, a way to get out of having to be present, to avoid having to experience the experience.
