A little latin...

I must say, first of all, how much I am enjoying blogging. In fact, if I am honest, I'm bound to say I end up spending an inordinate amount of time on it; too much time, in fact. But what the hell? I've no more pupils than I had before, it's not the season for solo singing engagements and the cathedral choir will not employ my energies until September, and then but once each day and thrice on Sundays. And Mr Asda seems oblivious to my qualities as temporary shelf-stacker. But no matter. Over the last few weeks it has become clear to me that there has been some slight misunderstanding over the precise nature of my employment here in the Cathedral. Fear not, good people; I am not a 'vicar' in the sense you understand. You may swear if you wish in my presence, and discuss the finer points of conjugal relations if you must. The term 'vicar' - as applied to either laymen like myself or clerks in holy orders - derives from the Latin 'vicarius', meaning 'stand-in'. Yes, dear reader, your local vicar is indeed a stand-in, most probably for the long departed Abbot of a dissoluted monastery. And I am thus a stand in for a stand in. Lord knows, the standards of musicianship amongst the clergy somewhat variable; some of them even admire the works of Graham Kendrick, for God's sake! So the Church, in it's wisdom, employs myself and others like me to do the job (that is, the singing) which would otherwise be done by real priests - or 'vicars' as most people call them. But as we know they're all too busy falling out about homosexuality and women bishops. I hope that clears things up. Tally-ho!