GadgetVicar

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This story reminds me of an incident when I was a young curate serving in centre of Edinburgh. Having just delivered a sermon, I was greeted on the door by a very posh English lady, who praised my oration with the following, "Lovely sermon, vicar. The trouble is, I couldn't understand a word of it. You really ought to do something about that awful accent!". My response, once I'd counted to ten, was to say as cheerily as I could, "I think you'll find that many people in Scotland speak with a Scottish accent. Perhaps you could learn the language too?". A bit strong perhaps, and on reflection I should have just taken it on the chin, but in my hearing, she never again complained about the Scots accent.

Sorted, Sort Of

Tax Return sent to our very patient accountant just in time for the 31st January deadline. Note to self: this year I will get the return done and dusted before the summer. Good news is that the Inland Revenue owes me money.

Car MOT and service was carried out on Tuesday. Cheaper than I thought. Unfortunately a warning light came on this afternoon while I was ferrying some senior church members to Strathblane for communion. Phoned garage. "You'll need to bring it in". Dropped off the ladies. Went to garage. Spoke to car salesman about changing the car. Butters me up by saying I look too young to have a thirteen year old daughter. He's even more impressed when I tell him we have an eighteen year old too. I'm not buying his flannel. Talk about God, or rather, his grannie's faith. Then tried to persuade me to get a Mazda 3 MPS ("It's cheap!"). This car can bring about catastrophic global warming all on its own. What he considers cheap isn't to me. I'm not buying that flannel, either. Finally gets a quote for a small car. Still too much.  Will need to think twice about getting a new Mazda. Get my car back. Turns out the technician had forgotten to reset a counter when the service was done on Tuesday. I've not been impressed with Mazda's servicing over the years. Time to change make after six years of running a Mazda?

Hair!

I am hairy of head at the moment. In fact I probably have more hair now than at any time in the last twenty-odd years. Why, you might ask? Mainly because I haven't made the time to get to the hairdresser. More about that in a moment.

I'm conflicted about my hair. I suppose that at my age, I should be grateful that I've still got a fine mane, but at this length, it is uncontrollable. If I brush it back, I have an Elvis-like quiff. If I try and pat it down it's a mess. I have a grey streak running through my hair, which manifests itself when long. Maybe this makes me appear mature? Should I Grecian 2000 it like someone told me they did the other day (I honestly had no idea, R!)

The benefit of keeping it short is that I don't have to do anything with it in the morning. But then, I look at GV boy's flowing locks and hanker for my days of longer hair. Perhaps like another clergy friend of mine, I could even get to ponytail territory (not)?

My hairdresser is a hoot. Last time I saw her two things stuck in memory. First up was the young man in the chair in front of me. Seemingly he was a devout church-going sort of person. He talked a lot. He confessed to the hairdresser that his girlfriend is a poledancer. We were bemused by this piece of information. When my turn came and knowing my job, she asked me what my wife did for a living. I responded, "She's a lapdancer". Pause. Laughter.

As if to get her own back, as she neared the end of the cutting, she asked, "Would you like me to do something with your eyebrows?". This has never, ever been asked of me before. What was wrong with my eyebrows? I peered at my image. Had my eyebrows sprouted to Dennis Healey-like proportions? I didn't think so. "Would you like me to trim them?", she asked. "Do you think they need it?", came my tentative reply. Silence. I nodded my head and the offending brows were clipped.

This middle-age thing is weird. If men aren't going bald, they are getting hairier. In the ears, up the nose, among the eyebrows. Why does this happen? And why do I have to groom more now than at any other time in my life?

Ten Commandments For Sale

Charlton Heston's that is.

Spring?

Funerals

I'm 'filling in' for a colleague who is on sabbatical at the moment. Twice in the last week I've received calls to take services. Last week it was a Thursday morning service, which I couldn't do because my weekday mornings tend to be booked up. This week brought a request to do a funeral, which has already been arranged for Friday, which just happens to be my day off. Normal practice is to get your clergy booked before confirming the service day and time, but the funeral director was having a bit of bother finding out who would be available to do the service. The family have been brilliant, and I won't have to go through that business of having to talk about someone I never met, knowing all the while that the congregation know full well I don't have any personal knowledge of the deceased.

I have enormous sympathy for clergy who are conducting as many as 129 funerals a year. How do they find time to do much more than that? It's unusual for St Silas' to have more than three or four funerals a year. One of the joys of a youthful congregation, I suppose, and one for which I am grateful.

As it turns out I'm MC at a Burns Supper in aid of the Tufa Project that evening (is that business or pleasure?), so I guess I can legitimately change my day off this week.

Lent and Legal

Lent begins at St Silas'  this morning with a Holy Communion service (with optional ashes) at 7.30am.

I then have to go to court. I'm not up on a charge. More in the line of victim support. The victim is very nervous about the prospect of standing before a sheriff . Pray that the victim, the accused and the witnesses give honest testimony and that justice is done.

Update Wednesday Evening:

The defendant pled guilty, so neither the witnesses, nor the victim, gave testimony, which was a quite a relief.  Thanks go to Val of the Witness Service, who offered counsel, wisdom and explanation. I've always bypassed the witness room on my many visits to court, so hadn't come across their work before. Such volunteers do invaluable work supporting nervous witnesses before and after their appearance.

Thanks too to the police officer who was also there to give testimony. He has been very helpful throughout the process. I suspect he and the other members of the constabulary spend way too much time in court dealing with the gang problems that Glasgow has.

The sentence? Who knows? Probably a fine and a symbolic slap on the wrist.

Important Fashion Questions

Following a conversation on the door at church last night:

Hoodies - how old is too old to wear one?

Goatee/whiskers/facial hair in general - yes or no?

Losing and Finding Stuff

Lost my spectacles. Don't know how. They disappeared between going to bed on Wednesday night and getting up on Thursday morning, and they haven't been seen since. Must be a naughty little pixie hiding things. Also lost my warm winter beanie and had to buy a new one (was it that pixie again?).

On the other hand, after using this picture of 'Holy Toast' in the Carols By Candlelight service, someone has kindly gifted me with one. Maybe the GV family will wake up to some Blessed Virgin Mary Toast on Tuesday morning?

 

w00t!

According to Merriam-Webster, the 'Word of the Year' is 'w00t'.

It's an expression of elation used by online gamers. Now, being the culturally relevant person I am, I'm wondering how we can use this word in worship?