Though a Strange Lens

"Partridge Family first cast 1970" by ABC Television - eBay itemphoto frontphoto back. Licensed under Public Domain via Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Partridge_Family_first_cast_1970.JPG#/media/File:Partridge_Family_first_cast_1970.JPG

I'm sat in the Sunday Morning Meeting, as you do. I'm alone as HOH is tending to the needs of the sick at the hospital and I'm looking round a bit. My eyes see a few people sat to my right. Our church is cavernous, so they are not exactly sat on top of me. They are people I know of rather than know - if you get me. They are medical people, really nice. They do stuff for God in far off places in their spare time. They are going through some testing health problems which they are bearing with good faith and application. I spoke to him once and was amazed to find that he had not been a Christian for very long. He attended an Alpha course and it had gone from there. Amazing. Then, as I do, I compare these people to me. I see all they will achieve for God and I wonder if I have left it too late. They are nice. I am not nice. They have maturity and gravitas. Er... This can lead to me wondering if I am really much of a Christian at all and if God could really have done much better for himself. Then, out of nowhere, I came over all David Cassidy.

I don't know if you remember David Cassidy. When I was young, it was one of three. The cool girls loved David Cassidy. The really cool girls loved Michael Jackson. The rest of girlhood loved Donny Osmond. I was team Donny. I know. I don't care.
David Cassidy was beautiful though. You had to admit that. So I used to watch him in The Partridge Family. I loved the Partridge Family. I had no idea what was going on really but anyway. I think they were a pop band made up from a family. They would go "on the road", have wacky adventures and then sing a jolly pop song at the end. Think S Club Seven with Shirley Jones as their Mum. That kind of thing. Then, because David Cassidy was beautiful, he started doing stuff on his own. And there was a song, Not much of a song but it had a lyric. 

In the eyes of the world I'm a loser just wastin' my time
I can't make a dime
In the eyes of the world being born was my first big mistake

I can't get a break
But in the eyes of my woman I stand
Like a hero, a giant, a man who's as tall as can be
Any fool can see

That she's lookin' through the eyes of love
Lookin' through the eyes of love
Lookin' through the eyes of love when she looks at me-ee.

And I thought. That's what God does - with me. He sees me differently than I see myself. Reminded me a bit of this in Galatians. 

What actually took place is this: I tried keeping rules and working my head off to please God, and it didn’t work. So I quit being a “law man” so that I could be God’s man. Christ’s life showed me how, and enabled me to do it. I identified myself completely with him. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not “mine,” but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that.

And I felt ok. There are complicated transactions going on here. Much more complicated than me and how I feel about myself sometimes. But it is taken care of. It is sorted. Christians should feel comforted and secure. Because we are.

New Week

"Spectre poster" by Source. Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Spectre_poster.jpg#/media/File:Spectre_poster.jpg

Monday  has zoomed round again, as it does and I have looked back on a less than momentous week - the highlights of which I am happy to share. So last week, I was mostly...

• Taking Aged Parent to Aldi and watching the crowds of students miraculously part as she informed the room that Syrup Of Figs was doing wonders for her constipation. She has no boundaries but at least we can get to the fish freezer easily.
• Going to watch The Bond. I wish I liked Spectre more. I would love to like The Bond, packed as it is with great people - Rory, Ben, Ralph and, of course Dave Batista. And it's British and cool. But it was so long. Hours long, and I get a bit bored of car crashes and punching people and torture. Where are the jokes? It used to be full of quips. Not very funny quips, I'll give you that but a least they were having a go. The beginning is really good, a great set piece but then, well not so good for me. The villain was annoying me - why wasn't he wearing any socks under his trousers? There is a moral choice at the end that JB would NEVER make which was a puzzle. And Monica Belluci needs to phone her agent. All she gets to do is look Italian (Which she does fabulously well) get pushed against a mirror by JB, do a bit of jig-a-jig, then never be seen again. Lots of people loved it. HOH liked it. He told me - "It's not really for you is it?"
• Turned on the Festival of Remembrance to hear them singing Praise My Soul rather beautifully, only to have the whole thing ruined by Pixie Lott giggling though it like I used to do at school. (In my defence - I was eleven) This, I think, is was happens when you try to put showbiz into intelligent, thoughtful things. I'm not sure what her contribution was because I switched on late. I'm willing to bet she had spent some time earlier murdering "We'll Meet Again" - making it sound like a threat rather than a promise.
• Been over to Amazon to pre-order the new Pen Wilcock, Hawk and The Dove book. (Highly recommended by the way) It's not due out till February but, I like to be in the queue. It's a British thing I think. 
• Felt a bit sick - along with HOH, for a couple of days. We are a bit concerned that our duvet is trying to kill us. It's really efficient. Too efficient and we both keep waking up boiling hot with bad heads. I could do with the weather going a bit colder to be honest or we may not survive the Autumn. 
• Managed to leave my phone at work Friday night and decided that, rather than go back for it, I would have a phone free weekend. Have been approached by four people (one a bit worried that I had been kidnapped or sold into slavery apparently) moaning that they couldn't get in touch with me. Will need to rejoin human race today unfortunately and return to phone.

Other than that, I worried a bit, prayed a bit, got on with it, as you do. Bring on the next week. 

Halloween

Autumn is in full swing. Halloween has come and gone and I can't say I'm sorry. We actually had kids knock on the door this year but we don't answer it. We can't. The dog isn't keen on strangers calling in the dark and making woo-woo noises. They would get more of a spooking than they were bargaining for and no one wants to spend Halloween in Casualty. I'm not keen on Halloween for lots of reasons. 

• The spiritual aspect. My background means that I am not kindly disposed to jokey stuff about witches and demons etc. It was never a positive when I was a little girl. Also everyone' s background should surely mean that they are not too keen on dressing their five year old as a sexy witch or giving their three year old a Scream mask. That could just be me. Modern parenting may have moved on. I do not claim to be an expert.
• Halloween Parties. Too fraught for me and too many plastic spiders knocking around. Also as a non swimmer, Bobbing for Apples always seemed to be the kind of thing you would do when you were trying to extract information about the whereabouts of secret plans. Not a child's party game.
• Never been a fan of entertainment based on frightening the living daylights out of me. Can still remember a visit to Mother Shipton's Cave as a child. Some lunatic had thought it might be "educational" to put a statue of Mother Shipton (Wise woman/Witch - depending on your theology) in the back of the cave where she was born. After catching sight of it, it took three park attendants to scrape me off the ceiling.
• My mother told me that Door Knocking was legalised begging. (See also Penny For the Guy and singing the line Away In a Manger three times and calling it Carol Singing) Or demanding money with menaces these days. My neighbour actually had her windows egged this year! This was unwise as her husband is an ex marine and they have three quite large sons knocking about the place.
• It's very American. That's what people say a lot about Halloween. I like America though. I like the teeth and the can-do attitude and Tina Fey. It's a grand place. (The Gun thing is a bit weird I know) Halloween is a bit of a money spinning exercise though, as anyone who has been in the first aisle of Sainsbury's at this time of year will tell you. (Where are the carrots?) 

The Indep.

We like our Autumn entertainment a bit more homely in the UK. We like celebrating the possible destruction of our democracy by burning effigies in the streets and by remembering torturing people until they could no longer write. See Guy Fawkes' signatures before and after The Rack. We are  a bit more civilised here. 

China In Your Hand

This is my final little treat to myself before Christmas saving etc. (That's if you don't count visit to the hospice shop to stock up on books and some other books I need and some mascara that it is good to get because I have a voucher and some theatre tickets oh and I will have to get a new cardi for work. Think that's it. Possibly not.) So this lovely phone case came from China which I feel a bit guilty about because of the cheap steel imports and the human rights but it is really difficult to get a Lilo and Stitch phone cover. I have read that sentence back and am thoroughly ashamed of myself. Lilo and Stitch, by the way is the best Disney cartoon EVER. (This is not a debate - this is a statement of fact) Possibly rivalled only by Mulan. Do not bother me with Frozen - full as it is of  tiny waisted insipid girlies running up and down piles of ice and bellowing songs at me. Mulan is a lady soldier who SAVES CHINA! (This blog is very oriental, I have noticed). And Lilo and Stitch has the best quote ever in it:

Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten

You can also get this on a phone case but I keep crying every time I read it which is not very helpful when you are trying to answer your phone. 

I am a bit puzzled by the inclusion in the  phone cover package of a little blue jewel thing to stick up my phone's bottom. I cannot for the life of me think why anyone would want to do that. But I am old.

We moseyed on down to the cinema to see The Martian. It's very good. Probably about 20 minutes too long. There was a bit in the middle about China (good grief, there it is again) that I couldn't really see the point of but it was good. Everyone in it plays the person they normally play. Matt Damon is a decent everyman sort. Sean Bean is a gruff, Yorkshire, Lady Chatterley's Person sort. Jeff Daniels is the man he plays in the Newsroom - tough but fair. Jessica Chastain is edgy but somehow appealing. Still, they all do it very well and it was a bit jumpy at the end. Cinema does space very impressively these days and it freaks me out to see people behaving normally in a spaceship when out of the window you can see that they are a gazillion miles away from anywhere. Although, is it true that you can see the Great Wall of China from space?

Social Media - The Revenge

One good thing about kids leaving is that you get to raid their bedrooms for, well anything you fancy really. FOW 1's room is not much good tbh because I am not that into Wolverine or the Red Hot Chilli Peppers but FOW2's bedroom - that is an Aladdin's Cave of stuff. It's mostly books although there is some nice nail varnish and a couple of more than acceptable scarves. I also have a winter coat to try on as the suede one I had my eye on from Tesco is sold out unless you fancy a size 8. (I may fancy it but I will never see it again.)
Anyway - back to the books. This is a salutary tale, mainly about social media and the trolling that goes on there. It's not so much about the famous ones - you know - where people can threatened with rape because they do something terrible like wanting a picture of a Suffragette on a five pound note. It's about people who made actual mistakes - remember the girl who was disrespectful in Arlington Cemetery? She had death threats, and lost her job - couldn't leave the house. Ronson compares this to the days of the stocks when people were dragged into the town square to be publicly humiliated for whatever they had done. 
Twitter is a scary place but I have comforted myself with the knowledge that as a nobody, I am unlikely to attract any attention. It seems that this is not true. One ill-advised Tweet or one stupid photo can bring the might of the entire Internet down on your head. They can make the sort of threats that, were they made directly to you in the street, you could ring the police and they would send two burly police constables round immediately. (If there were any constables left)
This makes me sound like I am 104 but sometimes, when I hear about people planning to behead people in the street or public shaming becoming a thing again or people using children as their own personal slaves, I do wonder how far we are progressing. I mean, I rarely throw the toilet waste out of upstairs windows I know and rickets is all but eliminated in Plymouth but it seems there are sometimes when we have barely moved on at all.