Saturday, August 11, 2018

What decadence!

The height of decadence in this house: watching a film on television on a Saturday afternoon.

The real decadence was in the film, Florence Foster Jenkins, set in the high society of 1940's New York. A heart-warmer - once I'd got over the appearance of Big Bang's Howard Walowich as a concert pianist - starring Meryl Streep in the title role as a society hostess who believes she can sing, with Hugh Grant as her husband who for twenty-five years has kept up the pretence.

It wasn't as funny as I expected but strangely appealing. Husband stuck his head around the door to ask, 'Why are you watching a film about a woman who can't sing?'
'Because I can relate to her!'

I love to sing but I, unlike Florence, am well aware of my complete lack of talent or ability to hold a note or sing in tune so I only sing in private - when I sound fantastic I think. 

Apparently we will spend eternity praising God. I hope he has his ear-plugs ready.

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