The Good Ol' Days

Someone asked me that question a few days ago. In fact, I have been asked that question enough so far in my pre yellow sticker life time, that I am beginning to wonder just what impression people have of me... Well it would probably be the right one, but thats for another time.

I am actually curious as to whether people truly expect me to answer that question? I mean, (and this is a rhetorical question, so don't get smart and give me an answer that is in the negative), but do I really look that dumb? Why am I going to tell somebody, and it is usually someone I don't know very well that asks the question, what the worst thing I have ever done is? Surely that has got to be the dumbest question in the world? Actually no... its not. I remember someone said to me "What's the number for 999?", but it does come pretty close.

Now, I could actually tell some funny stories about some of the stuff I have gotten up to. There was a notorious 'Jama Jam that I attended in Clapton; my poor innocent eyes were never the same again after that night. Then there was the very first GoUK (a christian youth retreat) which I remember going to with a bunch of friends... Or, my personal favourite which involves myself and a friend running through the service tunnels of Wembley Conference Centre trying to evade capture by the staff, but alas I cannot. I cannot reveal the identity of those parties involved just in case anyone knows them, and tells Michaels mom about the Jama Jam, reveals Leon as the V-Reg, or tells Carey's mom what a bad boy he was when he was meant to actually be in church.

Ahhhh the good old days.

But time ticks on... and before I even realised it, I have grown up and matured (admittedly not much), and have responsibilities (although some may call being married a handicap). I sadly don't see my friends as much, I don't have the freedom to do as I please as my actions and lack of thought now impact others a lot more. But I am not saying that it's a bad thing. It's just part of this thing called life. And lets be honest, Trini Girl In London was a bad influence on me, so not seeing her so much could actually be considered a good thing! It's not just my life that has changed either. A lot of my friends are doing hard labour (have children) and a life sentence (married), so they have different priorities. Some friends have passed away. And some... well, they just aren't friends any more.

Still, I can't help but look back on those times that I spent with them, and the things we got up to with a tinge of longing. Longing to just be care free, where my only responsibility was myself; longing to set my own rules and agenda. But perhaps I should stop longing for the past glories; after all, do I not have tomorrow that I can shape into bigger and brighter things? Ok admittedly we won't be going around to different churches to look for women (come on now, don't act like you didn't know that wasn't the case), and we won't be hosting Jama Jams and all night parties like we used, but we can still have fun.

Speaking of which, I know just the next thing we can get up to... and I borrow the lines from the great Black Adder... "I have a cunning plan!".

Superman? He ain't got nuthin' on me!

If you had a super power what would it be?

Would you want to be an immortal like Claire from Heroes? Or maybe you would want to have super strength and agility like Spider Man? Or how about the ability to control the weather like Storm from the X-Men?

I wanted to be able to read minds when I was younger. Just imagine the unimaginable power that you would possess. As a single young man, if you wanted to kick game on a young lady, you would have know all the right things to say. If you got in trouble, you would know how to react and what to say in order to escape punishment. If somebody wanted to start a fight with you, before they even threw their first punch you would know it was coming.

Talk about power!

But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that with such an ability would come great problems. What if you read someone's mind and discovered something you really didn't want to know. Matt Parkman in the first season of Heros discovered his wife had cheated on him with his friend and work partner, when he read her mind, and as a result his marriage broke down. Had he resisted the temptation to invade the privacy of her thoughts, what had happened in the past would have stayed there, and he would have continued in ignorant bliss.

Let's look at another scenario. What if your birthday was coming up and your wife/partner/friends were trying to arrange a surprise birthday party for you? You would have robbed them of their happiness in surprising you, and at the same time have lost some of the happiness you would have experienced had you not possessed the ability to read minds. (As I write this, my birthday presents are sitting next to me, but I am not allowed to open them until Monday, and the temptation is proving great. I don't wish to steal my wifes joy of seeing my face when I open it.)

Peter Parker's (Spiderman) Uncle Ben once told him, "With great power comes great responsibility.", and without a doubt that is true, and then it dawned on me. I already have the greatest super power of all; in fact we all do. Every living being that God has created and placed on this earth contains the greatest super power of all; the power of free will.

I sit here now, and I choose not to open the presents that are so nicely wrapped, and calling out "Open me.... Open me... Open meeeeeeeeee". In that choice I exercise the power to affect not just myself, but also someone else. I choose not to provided myself with instant self gratification because it is my responsibility to care about others outside of myself. Perhaps however, this responsibility is small in comparison to the responsibility that Adam and Eve must have carried in Eden. Perhaps they were not aware of the consequences of their actions, perhaps they were not even aware of the full power of the ability that they possessed: The power to choose good or evil.

I guess I will never know what it is like to fly, or be invisible, or even to read minds; but I do know the power that my choices can and do have on other people. So I don't need to fly to be powerful. I don't need to control fire or the elements, I don't need to be able to teleport, I don't need to even be able to read people minds like I wanted to when I was younger, in order to feel powerful or have an influence on people.

My power lies in my choices, and my influence lies in whether I choose to speak life to them. Whether I choose to exercise patience with them. Whether I choose to pick them up when they are down.

Who says I can't be a super hero?

My Yellow Sticker

December 1st is fast approaching, and for me that day should hold some significance so I am told; after all, it is my birthday. That's right, the day when God saw fit to bless the world with my presence! (And can I just say from now, I accept cash and guaranteed bonds only. In this time of financial toil, I had to stop taking credit cards!)

Now, I need to ask myself, why do we still celebrate birthdays? I personally don't feel any different, it is just another day, another hustle. But so many people go out and celebrate their birthday. For themselves they rent limousines, buy expensive bottles of Crystal, and spend a small fortune on a party or celebration of some sort. What is even worse though, is that they expect their friends to pay a large fortune in buying them a gift of some sort! Now, if you are thinking I sound like the Christmas Grinch, maybe I do, but I just don't get it on a pragmatic level.

Before I proceed though, please don't get it twisted, I will accept a present just a quick as the next man or woman, and its not necessarily the celebration of Birthdays that I am opposed to. I am simply curious as to why we continue to celebrate them in such an ageist society. In a society where after your late twenties (or if you look real good your early thirties) you are considered past your shelf life, and moved to the reduced goods section, why you would want to be reminded of, or remind the world of your status. For example, a man will look at a woman and think she is attractive, he will tell his friend this, and his friend will just so happen to inform this man that she is actually in her early 30's (THAT SOUNDS SOOOO OLD!!!), and before you know it, she is relegated from being attractive to now 'Looking good for her age'. That small little detail of her age had her swiftly moved from the Fresh Foods Counter, to the section in Morrisons with all those yellow stickers on that bargain hunters (ie those hard up), congregate around, looking to get what they can.

And please, don't give me the cliche "Age ain't nuthin' but a number", R-Kelly wrote that song, and look where that got him.

Perhaps in years gone by, birthdays were to be celebrated. In an age where the old were respected, honored and treasured. But that is an era that is long gone. There are no more perks for growing old. Where once in London it was really the privilege of the elderly and young children to travel for free on the buses, it is now the 'right' of teenagers. Where once an old person would be offered a seat on a packed train, now they are lucky to get a look of acknowledgment that they even exist.

But after all is said and done, I guess it really is a matter of where an individuals focus is. Perhaps this year, as society comes to stick its yellow sticker on me that says "Ooops! Was 29! Now 30!!!", I will look on December 1st not as a day that I get that little bit older, that little bit more grey, but simply as a day for thanksgiving. A day of celebration of the mercies and wonderfulness of God for seeing me through another 365 days.

Who are you?

During a recent conversation, someone asked me an interesting question; "Who are you?". I paused for a while, quite a long while in fact, and thought about how was the best way to answer this question.

I was really perplexed by this. I could answer that I was a Liverpool fan... Or a Pheonix Suns fan. Or I could answer that I am a son, a brother, a husband, a friend... And yet none of these answers seemed complete. None of them seemed to run true to the core of my being.

Of course I am a son. But only to my mother. And I am a husband, but only to my wife. To answer I was a Liverpool fan just seemed superficial, and maybe its my arrogance, but I don't wish for my football allegiance to be the depth of who I am.

I needed an answer that ran through all of these things. All of my relationships. And then it hit me.

I am a Christian. (Or at least I am struggling to be one).

Of all the things this is the one thing that I runs through every part of my life. It affects my relationships with everyone and everything. It is something I am even when I am alone. It is the one thing that colours my worldview no matter which hat I decide to wear.

Christianity is not a religion despite what people might say. It is, I am finally realising, much much more than that. Christianity is faith in practice. Christianity is living.

Christianity is me.

Judgment of a Man

Whilst having a look to see what was going on in the world, I stumbled across this on the BBC's website.

For those that cannot be bothered to read it, it centers on the question of Barack Obama and whether he is really black or not. To say I felt disappointed, even if not surprised that this was going on, would be an understatement.

Imagine for a moment if you will, that instead of talking about the President of the United States Elect, we were talking about an armed bank robber, do you honestly believe that we would be discussing this? The media wouldn't be talking about this. The black academics that they have spoken to would not be commenting on this. The BBC wouldn't care about this either. Maybe I am being cynical by viewing this as an attempt by many to make the idea of a black man in a position of global influence and power, more palatable to large sections of society by 'de-blacking' him, but its truly hard to see any other reason behind such a debate.

If Barack Obama was walking down the street, I would see him as a black man; but perhaps more telling is that when Barack Obama looks at himself in the mirror, he himself sees a black man staring back at him.

It is undeniable that his mother is white, or that he was brought up in a multicultural environment, but what is also undeniable is that he has also had to endure the preconceived judgments and stereotypes that are held by some people in his everyday life. He has had to overcome barriers, and he has had to struggle to achieve the success and position that he currently holds twice as hard as most Caucasians, just as much as any other black person has had to in order to achieve their goals, or to be taken seriously.

The fact that some of us as black people cannot celebrate and be happy in his success, is just a further example of why as communities we struggle. Instead of building each other up, we seek to tear each other down, instead of edifying we belittle; instead of growing we are decaying.

I for one, am sceptical but hopeful that Obama can live up to the promise and expectations that we have, but until he proves me wrong I shall judge him not on the colour of his skin, nor by his upbringing, nor by his childhood influences, but by his actions.

After all, is that not real test and judgment of a man?

Hopeful...

I woke up this morning feeling kind of refreshed.

And then I remembered... Diana Vickers is still in X-Factor. That was almost enough to make me start the day with a stiff drink. A BIG stiff drink.

Then I remembered the football score, and at least that partly restored my faith in the world. How happy am I with the performance of Liverpool of late? Well, words cannot begin to describe. We are going toe to toe with Chelsea, the rich johnny come lately of the Premiership and are more than holding our own. It leaves me less than quietly optimistic of our chances of success come the end of the current season. However, I do wish Robbie Keane would fix up... His recent profligacy in front of goal is more a little more than worrying. On current form I doubt he could put away a drunk Paris Hilton.

But as long as we keep winning, well... who cares?

Now.... back to X-Factor...

What language does Diana sing in? I know Simon has been telling Ruth to sing in spanish, but what has Cheryl been telling Diana to sing in? Hebrew? Koine Greek? I have no idea... she may as well go up there and mime with semaphore flags. Still, I am going to try and be positive today, and so lets stop talking about Diana. Lets focus on the class act that is in the competition...

Thats right, Alexandra Burke.

Everytime she gets up to sing, the judges are mesmerized; they just can't take their eyes off of her. Simon was relaxing nodding his head along, and Cheryl's face was just one of admiration and amazement at the talent she lacks, but wishes she had. Alexandra sings, dances, and generally blows the crowd away. I actually listened to her performance this week again, without watching it, and I have to confess, if she released that track, I could honestly see people buying it. It is simply that good.

My money is on Alexandra to win. With Leona and Alexandra, Britain could have its very own Mariah and Whitney. Hopefully both will stay off the crack.

How and Why?

Are the British public deaf?

Its yet another week where I probably understood about 3 of the words that Diana Vickers sung. The Cambodian man that sells the pirate DVDs has better diction than Diana Vickers, not to mention that she was OUT OF TUNE!

I am sick of the sympathy votes that she is getting, and if I had won the National Lottery I would have spent money voting on every other act INCLUDING DANIEL to ensure that she went home. She is awful. Why do we have to keep on hearing about her sore throat? Alexandra had one in the second week, she mentioned it once and then went and delivered a world class performance.

I can't take it any more. She sounds the same every week. Unintelligible. Please God, next week, let it be her last. If she ever released a record what would anyone do with it? Maybe the Americans could use it as an instrument of cruel and unusual punishment and torture against Al Qaeda suspects. I know I would confess all I knew if I had to listen to that all day. Come to think of it I would start confessing things I did not know! The order of the day would be simply admit to, and say anything to get that awful droning silenced.

And as for her hands.... can she not control her hands? They are annoying and distracting, and her mentors should have taught her about her body language. Her hands move more than an incontinent 80 year old with diarrhea. I don't care what they do with them... Chop them off, tie them behind her back, shove them in her pockets for all I care, just so long as they are removed from my TV screen.

If Liverpool had not won today, it would have been a dark dark day indeed.

Please God... Please...

Ok, I know when most people pray for things, its usually for them to come into a lot of money, or to be saved from imminent danger. I, however, do not want any of these things. I would simply like for Diana Vickers to be voted off of X-Factor tomorrow evening.

I mean, it can't just be me that thinks she sounds like a drowning cat. Her diction is terrible, and on disco week, when she sang a Blondie track, I didn't understand a single word she said... And I know the song!!! Laura White was no better either during Mariah week. Someone really should have informed her that the word is 'Love', not 'Laaaaa'. At least the judges saw sense and sent the strangled goat sounding woman home.

Now don't get me wrong. Daniel SUCKS! It would be a complete travesty and miscarriage of justice if he were to win X-Factor, but at least I can understand the words that are coming out of his mouth even if I don't recognise the melody that he is singing them in. He needs to be voted out, but only after they remove the mistake that is Diana Vickers.

So... there it is... My hope for tomorrow. No more Diana Vickers...

And Liverpool to win!