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The Cross and the Maiden

Entry 1094 posted in: 6. Self-Made Monsters

Celtic Warriors Yesterday I went to a biannual charity meeting in my village after my LA-girl had chained my hands and feet and dragged me over. I am not and will never be a social person and to enter a sport complex filled with 200 people I have never met is rather close to a living nightmare. If Tartarus exists my eternal punishment will be exactly that. But in the end it turned out to be not that bad because actually we knew about a dozen of good doers and after we had said hello to them all the event was almost over.

A couple of years ago one of the inhabitants of the small village I am living in entered a TV song test competition. He was already a known soap actor, but as I have the build-in ability to avoid soaps when they appear on television, I had never heard of the guy. Our locals went berserk and started petitions to get our boy elected as TV personality of the year. We were asked to put posters of him at our front windows and, of course, to vote for him whenever he had his contest on TV. I still remember me saying that I was not going to act like a fool, certainly not for average soap actors with average singing abilities. I don’t need to say what the effect of this act of insubordination did for my popularity in the neighbourhood.

I’m old school, and in my days, singers would first do thousand of gigs before releasing a single. If you were good there was a one in a million chance to get famous. Nowadays, would be singers join a TV contest and before they have appeared in public their album turns gold. Such is showbiz nowadays.

It turned out that the guy first love was singing but he had turned into a soap actor to get the bills paid. Obviously he won the contest, fingers in the nose, as he was the only stallion in a donkey race. His first (so-and-so) single went straight to number 1. His second, far better if you ask me, failed to enter the top 10, because at that point the hype was already over and a new kiddies star had already been pampered by TV. But I guess he will turn out fine, he acted already in a few movies and a second album is on the way.

Yesterday, at the charity gig in his home village, he played roadie for a local comedy duo because his manager forbids him to do free solo acts unless there is a TV camera present. He brought hit number one as a sound check and came back, with hit number two, for the encore with the singing juggling act. Although his music is not my thing I am very appreciative of the fact that he turned up, against his manager’s instructions, to have an impromptu gig with his old chums from the local pub. Such thing is called loyalty and friendship and is something one doesn’t see very often anymore. Hats off to Stan, the man.

A local choir did the second gig. Although their name suggested some Nordic Saxon roots we weren’t invited to some pagan rituals. This was a church choir bringing us the most gruesome of Christmas songs. The group leader, obviously a man who had missed the vocation of being a priest and thus became a choir conductor in order to mess with young girls and boys, summoned the public to stop applauding in between songs, ordered us to sing along and insulted the ones who were chatting with their neighbours instead of carefully listening to the songs. I hated him immediately.

This man was the living proof that Catholic devotees should be helped as quickly as possible to reach the heaven they believe in and if that involves a hammer and some nails, why not? It also grew my appetite to listen to some Iron Maiden when I got home.

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