To placate the maternal unit I went out with her on Christmas Eve to Jazz Vespers.
As church services go, it was better than most, and the jazz was as white as snow, which is okay at Christmas, the highlight being a version of the song embedded below (which I already like a LOT) with Jennifer Scott channeling Karen Carpenter. Yes, I mean that in a good way.
The United Church of Canada is pretty decent as decency goes, and the pastor was awfully gay (and happily married). Since candles and charity were involved, there were some firemen involved and he made some jokes about being handled by them, and the crowd had a whole bunch of happy folks being open about who they were; such a scene is good for mom, who once got awfully angry with me about the concept of gay marriage. It's also good for me: I muster up cringeworthy statements now and then, perhaps including this post. Still, bitter me at Xmas was thinking about the good feelings that the UCC is willing to extend to others in the pursuit of their mission being an expansion of the potential audience that can be lied to. The Baby Jesus story yet again moved me not in the least, but people holding hands in church who would, in my youth, have been beaten senseless for doing such a thing was a lesson. Mind you I haven't sat through an other-than-wedding service in many years, and it's Vancouver anyway, so who knows what's going on in those places? Bong and Bondage Vespers on the way soon? Bongdage Vespers?
And none of this good will prevented me from being the object of a creepy bathroom interrogation by a crazy guy wanting to know why I didn't go to church. Answering "IT IS CRAZY" did not seem to be right for the night, so "Merry Christmas" and I was out.