A Good Friday
I went to get my hair cut at the Beehive Salon today, which despite the name, does not specialize in beehive hairdos. Even though I was 15 minutes late, they still kept my appointment. The Beehive is in my neighborhood, but I still managed to get lost. I had consulted mapquest and thought I detected a shortcut - God, was I wrong. Another reason I was late was because I had run into Chris, a friend of a friend. I had told him about someone I knew who recently had her car towed because she misread the street signs. Chris told me about the time that "Law and Order" needed the space his car was in, so they towed it and reparked it a block or two away. It took Chris almost a week to find the car.
At the Beehive, I was pleasantly surprised to see my friend Clare there, getting her hair done in the chair next to mine. My preference for no-one I know being witness to my tardiness was outweighed by the pleasure of seeing her. Leaving the salon, I saw a crowd and police cars with their flashers on a few blocks away. It was a Good Friday processional, complete with a band playing funeral music, a kid dressed as Jesus who was having trouble with his crown of thorns and more fortunate kids who got to dress as centurions.
Originally this posting was going to be about "I wish I had my camera with me." But as I was writing, I heard the funeral music outside. I grabbed my camera (as always, thanks to Fenway Partners for the camera) and my keys (surprised that I had the presence of mind to take my keys) and went outside to take a few shots. A good Friday.
I couldn't figure out why the little kid in white had fake blood running down his head. He couldn't be any of the apostles; none of them made the long walk to Calvary. Then it struck me: he's the replacement Jesus in case the other Jesus gets tired. The runner-up. The Vice-Saviour. The pinch Messiah. It all makes sense now