Some moms might worry, when a daughter goes off to foreign parts with her young man, that the daughter might turn to excessive drug use or weird French sexual practices or, you know, come home with a shaved head. THE Moms, however, knows that she doesn’t have to worry about those things (anymore) with me. All she had to hope was that the Lad did not entirely corrupt me by turning me all religious.
So we went to Evensong at St. Paul’s last night. It was the first religious service I’ve ever in my life attended, ever, and it’s possible I got a few things wrong. For example, when the little guy walks out in the long robe and cape and waves his wand around and bows to the audience, he’s actually bowing to the Jesus and is not about to do a magic trick. No matter how many times you yell out “rabbit in a hat! RABBIT IN A HAT!!”
The vicar’s choir (which is possibly the most enjoyable word to say in all of English, vicar is) had gorgeous voices and echoed off the gold leaf dome in four-part harmony. But you are not supposed to clap afterwards, no matter how much you enjoyed it, and you should definitely not request “Freebird.”
When the vicar’s choir has a special song that they sing with some adorably pasty high school boys, it is inappropriate to pass the boys Michele’s phone number, or to whisper “hubba hubba, I have a friend who would think you are tops” as they file past your seat.
Finally, when everyone stands at various parts of the ceremony, they are attempting to show respect, not do the wave, so throwing your hands in the air, yelling “Whoop!” and sitting back down will absolutely get you ejected from the service.
Pictures of our first two days in London are up here. For those who care about such things, I am attempting to put people in more pictures, but since the Lad mostly takes the shots I just wind up dancing in front of the view a lot.