The Mayor of Bromley

Tonight I went to a primary school choir concert. What joy, what bliss. All children in attendance were under age 11 and all of them had amazing diction. So much so that their accents rang out in true form. One little boy, probably around age 8 or 9, sang a solo during a Scottish folk song that was all about how much he loved his lass. It would have been sweet regardless of the setting, but the concert was in a rather rustic feeling Anglican church and the boy not only sang with a strong English accent but he literally had rosy cheeks of all things. You can imagine, I'm sure, that it was more than I could take. Emotions are right on the surface of my skin at the moment and to hear that little boy's soprano voice soar, "mah dahlin lass, Ah mees huh so" in the haunting spirit of lost love was heart wrenching. I literally put my hand to my heart, but then I realized what I was doing and quickly put my hand down. I looked around and saw no other tears in the audience. People may have been looking at me with a variety of expressions, but it's hard to know because eye contact in London is often as indirect as the use of the Queen's English language, here in England that is. I felt slightly pathetic, but not too bothered about it. I mean, sometimes I am pathetic ...and that's okay.

At the end of the concert, the Mayor of Bromley said a few words. When he entered the church an announcer asked us all to stand as the Mayor and his wife walked down the aisle up to the front of the church. He was a bit like a bride in that setting. I could tell that he felt beautiful like a bride. Appropriately he was the center of attention and he was certainly decked out in fancy threads with a fair amount of bling. As you can see by the photo, he was wearing a hard-core thick gold chain with the most amazing crested gold medallion. For a primary school choir concert, there was some seriously impressive pomp and circumstance.

I miss home so much, but England keeps seducing me with these incredible rituals and odd behaviors. It's addicting. I wouldn't say I'm an Anglophile just yet, but transformation could be mine. It is an enchanting place in so many ways but the children, with their high voices, their bad behavior and their endearing accents are really my favorite part of living in England, at least today.