Imagine, if you will, an idyllic English childhood, growing up in the 60s and 70s, in a village with a nice little church, and four adorable children, going to church every Sunday, and the vicar, an old man, with a gentle disposition, he never wore those flashy robes with vibrant green and an eagle on the back – no, he wore a white frock, with a black and red scarf thing, and a bible in hand, should the need arise.
Sometimes there would be a garden party at the vicarage, one of the biggest houses in the village, at the top of the hill overlooking the whole of creation below – polite society could gather to drink tea and eat scones, Mrs Vicar, was portly lady with a large bosom over which she would display her strings of pearls, one imagined there was mostly taffeta paper underneath, and some sort of wadding? Surely any human flash must be well concealed beneath mummy like layers of decency.
No one in church could sing other than Uncle Bob, and Fred Jones, they were both tenors, and played off against each other during the more bombastic hymns! OMG< that was fun!
Uncle Bob wasn’t actually an uncle, we just called him that – he looked just like Eric Morecambe out of Morecambe and Wise – and just like Eric, he never seemed to have a straight face.
The object of this lifestyle is to be a Christian, through and through & to the core – no need for an inner life and an outer facade, slice one of these down the middle, you will find no sin, just good stuff, blessed by God himself.
Of course this never works out, you wind up with a bunch of Gestapo like lunatic purists, v’s looney lefty sophisticato’s.
Of course none of this stood up to the ever changing times as I grew up, I became obsessed with self pleasure, of a most depraved and vile kind – in short, readers, I just no longer fitted in. But it was fun while it lasted!
Anyhow, on another point of interest I was thinking about during this week:
About a year ago, my location for work was moved from one site to another. I’m still not settled in, because I work in a locked room, (the other place was a locked room too – I count money), but I saw more people, because I was part of a team, but now I work entirely alone, it’s just the way it worked out, this guy (my then boss) did it to save money, so anyhow, I was just thinking how this last year has been and how I haven’t settled in and so on. I’m not unhappy, because I’m pretty anti social anyway, but it just occurred to me how little I changed since I was a child of about 5, I don’t mix, I don’t care, I sulk, and I like it 🙂
You know how when a child is moved from one school to another, the adults all say oh I hope he settles in ok, or a month or two later, they’ll say oh dear, he’s very sensitive isn’t he? Well I’m like that! I haven’t settled in to my new workplace, and I’m 56! Oh dear!
I haven’t had time nor energy to write these up properly, due to circumstances and so forth, I had the idea to write about my adult / childhood little boy syndrome as regards workplace while at work – but I didn’t have time to note down the ideas till after I finished what I was doing, and it wore down a bit, and wasn’t as good as the original idea, this often happens – always best to write down an idea as it comes out, rather than later on when its become diluted or drifted off into other areas. Same with the fist part about Church.
When I awoke this morning, I was revelling in some quite clean unsullied memories of childhood, but then I got up and had breakfast, and by the time I came to type this story out, it had become somewhat sullied by feelings of resentment and anger and so on which came later in life, as regards religion and my response to it.
At the time of growing up, I was oblivious of anything outside of my own sphere of influence, but then I got friends at school whose idea of fun was hardly going to be tea and cakes at the vicarage, rather more along the lines of letting peoples tyres down and running off laughing, hiding behind walls, then popping up to yell “Get off and milk it!” At passing cyclists – ha,ha,