Isn’t it wonderful to own a bad picture? A ‘Shall I die now?’ snap that makes everybody hold their breath, not because they want to laugh, but because they can’t quite believe you would allow yourself to be seen in public looking like that. (Of course the giggles are there somewhere too)
Where On Earth?…
This dear treasure was taken many years ago in a hotel in Manchester. It’s that one in Piccadilly where all the eager public who are wanting a tour of Granada Studios are ushered to for a few days. You know what I’m talking about, you UK dwellers: fans of Corrie, Emmerdale, and dare I say it, Last Of The Summer Wine. They dump you in this place and the next morning, drag you off down the cobbled streets to take pics of yourself pulling a pint at the Rovers Return and sipping a coffee in Compos Cafe.
But, what was I thinking? Wearing fussy flower patterns, then plonking myself down on the only chair that is adorned in a similar fashion, not noticing that the curtains are afflicted with the same blooms?
The Jester Relaxes
And what do you think of the hair and spectacles? Yes, indeed, I am making a true spectacle of myself.
Remember Soul-Glo & Stay-Sof-Fro?
It must have been the height of the curly perm craze for black people, because I think ‘Coming To America’ was in the cinemas at the time.
But there’s something liberating about revealing an embarrassing photo. We can spend so many moments mocking others, so why can’t we just laugh at ourselves for a while?
It’s easily done isn’t it? We stare in disdain at a news-reader wearing a strangely cut jacket, a politician with weird facial features, and caterpillar eyebrows, a weatherman with a peculiar voice. Or we pick up OK! Magazine and start revelling in snapshots of celebrities caught short without their make-up, who are standing outside their million pound pad in their ragged slippers, and screaming like a banshee at their newly-n. (James 3:7-8)
So I’m keeping my opinions to myself and training my thoughts to be positive because God can still hear my mind.
wed spouse. There are close-up shots of cellulite and wrinkles, underwear showing, and other bits on display that should have been kept behind very thick material.
It nurtures our insecurities because we like to know others are struggling visually when they glance in the mirror. To see that those who can afford two hundred dressing gowns, are wearing one with a frayed belt and a pocket with a circular wet patch from a long-forgotten cough sweet, is very satisfying indeed.
That’s My Baby Girl!
But, when we mock famous folk who can’t hear us, we fall into the trap of thinking its okay. They’ll never know and they are detached from the reality of our lives. But what if a relative of theirs heard us? What if they themselves were listening round the corner? Like in the film, Notting Hill, when a few guys berating Julia Roberts are suddenly confronted by Hugh Grant who proceeds to reveal that they heard every word.
Er…Can I Join Your Church?
For us Christians we need to think further afield: what if that person walked into our church the next day…and decided to stay?
For non-Christians, what if they turned up at the pub?
The Un-tameable Body Member
God tells us that every kind of beast and bird and snakes and things in the sea can be tamed and has been tamed by mankind, but no-one can tame the tongue. It is an unruly evil, full of deadly poiso
Let’s Be Gracious
Come on, let’s try harder to be nice or be quiet. I know it’s difficult when we’ve spent a lifetime of critisising.
I Hope It Makes You Happy
So folks, that’s where my mug-shot comes in. I’m giving you permission to berate it as much as you like, while in the difficult process of learning to hold your tongue. Have a good belly laugh at my expense, while adapting to your new, positive attitude. I don’t mind – it keeps me amused for hours.
Then it’s your turn.