Childish Things

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. (1 Corinthians 13:11, King James Version)

The whole of chapter thirteen is more or less timeless except for giving up ones body to be burnt. I think I would like it as a reading at my funeral. It seems to me as relevant today as when St Paul furrowed his brow and dictated this epistle to a scribe two thousand years ago.

But have I put away childish things, I ask myself. Well I used to read cartoon strips in the newspapers: Sean Bunny in The Irish Times, Rip Kirby in The Irish Independent. When I was at Castle Park my mother sometimes enclosed a Sean Bunny strip in her letters. Incidentally I always called the rabbit Seen Bunny and only realised my mistake much, much later. My grandfather did not entirely put away childish things as he read Rip Kirby too.

When I first lived in London there were two cartoons set in offices: Bristow and Dilbert. I also read The Gambols in The Daily Express and Andy Capp in The Mirror. I suppose I read other people’s papers in the office. In recent times, that’s the last thirty years, I only read Matt and Alex. They were (Alex was axed quite recently) both a big improvement on Bristow and Dilbert but I may not have agreed as a child.

Here is a random list of some of the things I have put away: Biggles, Enid Blyton, Agatha Christie; Fry’s Turkish Delight, sweet cigarettes, sherbet; The Man from U.N.C.L.E., TV soaps and sitcoms except Fawlty Towers, Black Books and Frasier; Radio Luxembourg; saying prayers before getting into bed; sitting on storage heaters to warm my bum.

Now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. (Chapter 13, verse  12)