community matters - the drop-in

'Truth of the matter was, everything was stories and stories was everything. Everybody told stories. It was a way of saying who they were in the world. It was their understanding of themselves. It was letting themselves know how they believed the world worked. The right way and the way that was not so right'

Harry Crews (1935 - 2012)

These words introduce one of my all-time favourite films, 'Searching for the wrong-eyed Jesus'. Twice a week our sister church down the road opens its doors for a 'drop-in'.  There's tea and cake, but more importantly an opportunity to share stories - some mundane, others deep, sad and challenging. 

Stories of struggles in faith. Stories of sewing shopping-bags and riding bicycles. Stories of dementia, death and despair.

Today's world is so busy. Emails, tweets and social media messages zing this way and that. But listening to stories is worth so much more.  True community is built on story - yours and mine.

top ten albums - no. 7

Dear Sheddists,

 

as a keen aficionado of compilations, film soundtracks and weird Americana what's not to love about, 'Music From Searching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus'.

 

The original concept for the film came from Jim White's debut album, which to give it its full name is, 'The Mysterious Tale of How I Shouted Wrong-Eyed Jesus!'. It features three songs by Jim together with terrific contributions from a variety of alt-country and Americana luminaries including The Handsome Family, David Eugene Edwards and Johnny Dowd.

The film is directed by Brit, Andrew Douglas and stars Jim White in a beat-up Chevy Impala exploring some of the weirder sides of the Deep South.  It just drips Southern Gothic from every pore, the atmosphere set from the very start by a short scene featuring legendary author, Harry Crews, explaining how to cook a possum.

The themes of the accompanying music appear at first-sight to be equally bleak - murder, death, unrequited love - but like the scenery that provides the back-drop to the film the songs reveal hidden beauty as they unfold.

I just cannot recommend the film and its soundtrack enough - they're both absolutely terrific!


'Truth of the matter was stories was everything and everything was stories. Everybody told stories. It was a way of saying who they were in the world. It was their understanding of themselves. It was letting themselves know how they believed the world worked - the right way and the way that was not so right.'

Harry Crews (June 7, 1935 – March 28, 2012)

the book I read

On the morning of 4th June 2001, at 10.38 precisely, someone bought a Kit Kat from Kroger Retail Stores, Queen City Centre in Cincinnati, United States.  It cost them 89 cents, and they paid with a five dollar bill. 

I have no idea who bought the Kit Kat in question, but I do know they were served by a lady called Sonja.  I also know Kroger's is listed in the Washington Post at 4777 Kenard Avenue.  If, for any strange reason, you should want to telephone the store, you could do worse than try calling (513) 681-7650. 

Evidently, Kroger sells more than a few Kit Kats.  Its earnings for the fiscal year 2010 were in the order of $82.2 billion, a performance not to be sneezed at in this continuing credit-crunch maelstrom.  


So how do I know all these things?  I bought a second-hand book recently called, "Classic Crews", a lovely collection by the southern-gothic author, Harry Crews.  It includes his autobiography,  a short novel entitled, "The Gypsy's Curse" and a selection of essays.
The rather dog-eared edition came into my possession care of an on-line bookseller in Toledo, Ohio and sandwiched in the middle I found, to my great delight, the Kit Kat receipt.  It's on the desk in front of me right now. 


I pick it up for a moment, and seek to picture Sonja, the mysterious cashier.  I think she must have been part of the regular team at Kroger's.  4th June 2001 was a Monday, so it was unlikely to have been a High School girl doing some weekend work. 


And so I wonder if Sonja the cashier ever gave a thought to the purchaser of a solitary Kit Kat who tucked the receipt in the middle of a book called, "Classic Crews" that bears on the inside cover an inscription in blue ink that reads, "More for Lukie.  'The man pulling radishes that pointed the way with a radish'. My favorite.  Go sit & have a think.  Much love-o Davey (&stevie & francesca)", that found its way to the shelves of Book-Ink of Ohio in Toledo, en route to my library.


Probably not.  But it was the book I read.




best regards,


electrofried(mr)