Confessions of a Liberal Puritan

I hope all of you who celebrate Christmas had a wonderful day!

The best gift I received, perhaps, was a 26-inch flat screen digital television from my parents (Dad stood in line at Sears starting at 5 AM on the day after Thanksgiving to get a discount price on it). This was to replace my own TV which died two months ago (I'd been using a very old Montgomery Ward portable TV since then, which only had channels 2-36 available, unless I used my VCR). At least, that was the most expensive gift and the one I would never, ever have thought of buying for myself.

But a close second was the "Serenity" DVD from my sister, and immediately after that, in a very close third place, was my brother's offer to play "Scrabble" with me after lunch on Christmas day.

I know that he only did that as a gift to me (though I DID spot him 100 points, at his request), because when I asked him just moments ago if he'd be willing to play again this afternoon, he told me, "Yes, that's on my list of things to do -- right after cutting off my dick, painting it purple, and running through town holding it in my hand, screaming 'I am Skeletor!'" From subtle clues like this, I intuited that he was NOT very eager to repeat the experience before next Christmas, at the earliest. Oh, well.

On Christmas Eve, my sister took me to the semi-potluck dinner party one of her friends throws each year (most of the guests bring side dishes or desserts and/or liquid refreshments of an alcoholic variety to share, but the hostess provides roast turkey and the trimmings, as well as appetizers and other yum-yums for all).

I'd been unable to attend the past two years, but I'd gone with sister to this party the two years before that, so I had at least a nodding acquaintance with several of the other guests, and knew that -- like my sister -- this circle of friends and acquaintances is largely indifferent to religion in general and Christianity in particular. However, they'd always been very tolerant in the past, though somewhat nonplussed, when informed of my ministerial work and area of study. We'd gather for appetizers at 5 PM, finish dinner and dessert by 7:30, and the party would have sort of petered out by 9 PM, as various guests left to go hear some friend or another perform at some local bar.

But, for some reason, this year the champagne and turkey and such wasn't making me sleepy and inclined to go home at an early hour, and the weather was also cooperating, staying enough above freezing to mean that the light rain that started to fall by 8 PM was unlikely to make for dangerous driving later on. So, my sister and I stayed much longer than usual, while I accidentally/on purpose started a discussion of religion and politics that had everyone at the party still talking excitedly (but mostly courteously) when sister and I left at 11:30 PM. Even the young musician who'd come very late, and who had Christmas ornaments hanging from some of the short braids standing at right angles to his scalp, who said that he'd voted for Bush in the 2004 election partly in order to piss off his friends who had nagged him about never voting -- even he seemed to be enjoying the conversation and the courteous manner in which several of the other guests were attempting to show him the error of his ways.

Strangely enough, our hostess actually sincerely thanked us for coming, as sister and I were putting on our coats and taking our leave of her in the kitchen, saying that this was the first time in all her years of throwing these parties for her friends that people hadn't all dispersed after supper and the gift-exchange, but had stayed talking so late into the night. Well, I had certainly enjoyed myself, and sister had made several good points in the discussion, as well, so it was a relief to know that our hostess wasn't wishing us at Jericho for getting her guests all stirred up and with no sign that anybody but the two of us was planning to leave before the wee hours. I guess maybe opening the floor to a free-for-all discussion of sex, religion, and politics hadn't been such a faux pas as I'd feared. I must remember that for the next party I attend!

Sister and I have been hanging out a lot this holiday, but not as much as some other years (she has a new-ish boyfriend, so she's not nearly as hard up for convivial companionship as she used to be). Last Thursday, she took me out for dinner at a lovely "nouvelle Asian" bistro, and afterwards to see "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire", which she'd already seen, but which I hadn't gotten around to before then. No need to review that film, I'm sure, but I can say that I enjoyed the special effects and the performances greatly, but was more than a little perturbed at times by the "we-who-are-about-to-die-salute-you" Bread-and-Circuses aspects of the tri-wizard competition.

Even for seventeen-year-olds, those "trials" seemed far too hazardous, and I can't help wondering about what would have befallen those "stolen" friends and family members if they hadn't been rescued within the time limit of the second trial. From the gratitude toward Harry and the talk about moral fiber that resulted from his decision to try to save both remaining hostages, I rather got the impression that the little sister had been placed in real jeopardy, there.

Now, as I recall, when I was seventeen I probably would have been grateful (at least at first) if someone had offered to throw my younger sister into a lake, but I don't think I would have been entirely happy to see her drown, even back then, when our relationship was nearly at its worst. Probably the book -- if I had read it -- would have filled in and explained about how these trials really worked and why any sane adults would have allowed the contest to take place more than once. There must have been a safety net that wasn't quite visible, I guess, though the fate of gorgeous Cedric argues that there were significant holes in it.

So, yesterday, out of gratitude for indulging me with "Goblet of Fire" last week, I let sister choose a movie matinee and the two of us went to see "The Ringer" -- which had a few laugh-so-hard-I'm-feeling-light-headed-from-lack-of-oxygen moments, and many more giggle-worthy moments, as well as the bare minimum of cringe-worthy moments you'd expect from any comedy about someone trying to "fix" the Special Olympics by pretending to be a developmentally disabled athlete.

It was better than I expected, I'd have to say, though I was surprised that the "hero" played by Johnny Knoxville was actually convincingly portrayed as an essentially kind and decent guy who hated himself for participating in such a deception. Anyway, lovely work by Jed Rees as Special pentathlon athlete Glen (though I can't see that actor's smiling face without hearing his character from "Galaxy Quest" saying "But the creature turned inside out . . . and exploded") and by Katherine Heigl (whom I can't help thinking of as another Roswell alum). If you're looking for mostly mindless chuckles with a few brilliant moments of physical comedy, you could do worse than shell out six dollars to see "The Ringer" -- though I certainly wouldn't pay any more than matinee prices to see it.