Tall Stories...

A (none to intelligent) friend once told me that a man who worked in a skyscraper wanted to commit suicide. This man decided to jump out of his office window near the top of the ‘scraper. The story goes that on his decent there was such a huge gust of wind that he was blown back in to the building through his colleagues’ open window.

That’s funny. Not the “suicide” bit, but the ridiculous bit.

It begs the question – who on earth would design a skyscraper with windows that people can either fall in to or out of. That is a huge design flaw and, honestly, asking for trouble. A part that really gets me going is trying to imagine a man working hard at his desk, only for a full sized human being to fall onto it from the sky.

You can’t make this stuff up. No, wait, I think he just did…

Recent Distant Memories...

From nowhere I was just reminded of a conversation I had with my dad the day we brought Josephine home. It went something like this:

Me: I can’t believe she’s so long… she can’t even see her feet

Dad: How far can she see?
Me: About a foot, and she’s 18 inches (or something like that length – I can’t recall exactly)
Dad: She can see her feet!
Me: A foot is 12 inches, Granddad.
Dad: [Laughed a lot] Oh yeah.

It’s a conversation that I don’t expect dad to remember, heck, it’s a conversation I’m surprised I remember. I don’t know what makes it so memorable, or why it warms my heart so much. Was it that it was the first moment I had alone with my hero and my daughter at the same time; was it the fact that dad got it wrong (and he never gets it wrong) because he was overjoyed at seeing his first granddaughter (I assume)? Or maybe it just warms my heart thinking about the early days with my daughter?

She already seems so grown up – supporting her head, occupying herself by talking and playing, the need of independence already and awareness of the outside world- I wonder where the time has gone! I am truly besotted with my daughter – every morning I now have to catch my breath twice; when I realise who I’m married to, and when I get the first glimpse of Josephine before work. I am blessed.

The Man with Many Faces…

Sounds a bit like a great song title, doesn’t it? But increasingly I feel like I have too many personas.

Over the years, I’ve not put much theology or much about Church or Christianity at all in my blog – I even thought of creating a separate blog for such musings; a personal and fun one, and a serious theological one. Actually, such is the impact of God on my life, my everyday thought patterns naturally have my relationship with God splattered all over them.

This week I have been strongly reminded that my confidence should be who God says I am. Looking at scripture, the stand out things is that I am a son of God, and as such am an heir. This should give me increasing confidence in who I am – chosen by the King of kings!

I’ve noticed recently that I am a lot of different people in a lot of different settings. At work, I am quiet, secluded, timid, lacking in confidence because I feel that people will judge my character by how I perform my job – a job in which I still feel I’m finding my feet in despite being here for 2.5 years now. I’m the quiet boy who gets on with his work, who stutters and mumbles and panics and goes red when those in authority ask me questions. At home I’m comfortable and relaxed and feel like I’m the “real Phil” – being around Liz is being in a comfortable environment because I know I can screw up and she’ll still love me and be for me. At leaders meetings at church I’m often quiet, because I’m all too aware that there are many in the room of have a deeper biblical knowledge than I. On the football pitch I am full of confidence, a joker and (I like to think) fun to play with because, actually, I think sport is a strength and this is reflected in my attitude. Around my in-laws I’m quiet, wouldn’t say boo to a ghost, polite because I still feel like I’m trying to make a good impression and come from a completely different culture.

In short, I put on a face dependant on where my comfort zone and confidence is in that particular scenario. They overlap, too. At work, if I’m comparing baby stories, I’m me, because I know about that!

My aim is to have this approach no longer – I am who God says I am, and that’s more than enough for me!!!

Dogs...

I've been in an exceptionally good mood these last few days. I have a loving wife, the cutest daughter in the world and a God who works all things for His glory. Yet I've been in a ranting mood. So we have the following to add to yesterday's rant...

Last night my friend got chased by a large dog. He had to go to hospital, is now on crutches, has many injuries, and had major shock. He broke his phone, he has a family with 3 children under 20 months, he's had to stay off work today.

Can you imagine the outrage if I were to chase a dog down the street for no reason and cause these injuries. Can you imagine the call for me to be locked up.

Why is it that people care more about their pets than, well, people. Why is it that there is a greater call for justice when a man attacks a dog than a dog attacks a man? That's twisted in my opinion.

Tabloids, You Suck...

It was only on Tuesday that I heard the allegations against Mr. Wayne Rooney. when it appeared something was up with England's soccer hope, I investigated for a minute or 2... to be greeted with this:

"Do you have a story about a star? Call The Sun’s newsdesk on 020 7782 4100 Email: exclusive@the-sun.co.uk"

In bold letters, in the middle of this story. Is it just me, or is this so sleazy it makes me feel a tad nauseous? It makes me wonder if this self-styled "prostitute" saw this banner somewhere and new how to make a few bucks.

Right now, I'm mad with the media... in less than a week you may have destroyed a whole family over "allegations" which seem to have no basis in truth, only word of mouth, and monopolised our national sport so that I have to pay through the nose to watch them. Which I can't so I don't.

Chipotle London...

Erm... Chipotle has now opened a store in London! Excited... heck yes! I can't wait for my first Burrito... bring it on.

Americanism's

I find that, increasingly, I use way more Americanisms than “Englishisms”. This has also been a conscious decision on my part for a few underlying factors; a) through increasing American contacts and b) the TV and film industry.

Having married an American, I now have an increasing amount of American’s who I’d like to communicate with – the easiest way to do so is through using Americanisms. I don’t feel like this is a bad thing, and I don’t feel like I’m neglecting where I came from or who I am by doing so. The aim is communicating well across the board, no matter who my audience with.

I feel like this is more allowed due to the way TV and film have affected the way we talk and have given us a huge amount of exposure to American culture (albeit probably an exaggerated version). I think about it logically, and actually all of my favourite TV shows (bar Match of the Day and Topgear) are American – even in the sport arena, I’m longing for the NFL season to get up and running again! American’s, in my opinion, do not have the same exposure to English culture. I am using phrases or words such as “diapers” or “stroller” over their English counterparts, “nappies” and “pushchairs”. If truth be told, then I’m sure most of my English friends know exactly what a diaper or stroller is, because we are exposed to that culture and set of words.

It’s not a bad thing, and I don’t feel any guilt in doing this. I just want people to understand me, ya’ll.




P.S. I wonder just how many times in the above I’ve been very “English” as opposed to “American”… is it time for me to eat my words yet?