I've got nothing against them, but some of the members aren't really my cup of tea.
My father-in-law is a Freemason. That’s not a confession, something I needed to say to cleanse myself, it’s just a statement. He’s asked me if I’d be interested in joining, but I’ve never fancied it. To be honest, I’ve been to a few gatherings and didn’t really enjoy them, I always found the people a bit insular. Plus, there’s a lot of etiquette involved such as not smoking or removing your jacket without permission and I can’t be bothered with all that, maybe I’m not posh enough.
Anyway, my wife and I went to a black tie function just before Christmas a while ago and I had a bit of an adventure. When the meal had ended everyone gravitated to the bar for a drink and a chat and after a while the Masons started to disappear in small groups, leaving just the likes of me and the ladies. Then a man appeared at the far end of the table, pointed at me and made beckoning gestures, complete with raised eyebrows. I stood up to see what he wanted and he said “Come on, we’re going next door, you’re late.” I had no idea what that meant and told him so and he explained that it was time for the singing of the Christmas Carols and I needed to hurry up or I’d miss it. “Ah,” I said, “Nothing to do with me, mate, I’m not in the er… gang.” Thinking he was doing me a favour, he said “Oh, it doesn’t matter, come on anyway, we always need singers.” I would rather have stayed where I was but my mother-in-law had heard what he wanted and urged me to go along. This set off my wife and her sisters, who all thought I should go and, for the sake of peace, I rolled down my sleeves, put my tie and jacket back on and was led off into a separate room which was full of men I didn’t know standing around chatting, some clearing their throats and going “Me me me me me. La la la la la.” as if they were about to take the stage at La Scala. Then there was me, looking lost and bewildered, wondering what was going on.
I was searching the crowd for my father-in-law to get a bit of advice when a little fellow turned up by my side and said “Oh, you’re a big bloke, here you go” and thrust into my hands a lantern on a stick, about four feet long, then walked away. Now I was totally baffled and when my father-in-law eventually turned up I grabbed him. “Bill, what’s going on? Someone’s just given me this.” “Oh, you’ve got the lantern, have you?” he said. “Yes, Bill, I have, well spotted. What’s happening?” He explained that I had been given this as the tallest person there and I had the honour of leading the procession into the main hall. I reminded him that I had never been before and that a clue as to what was expected would be nice. It turned out that the man with the lantern started off from the side room six paces ahead of everyone else, the lights in the hall were extinguished and we all trooped in singing. Apparently, it would look wonderful. So there I was, lantern in hand, listening to the Right Honourable, His Majestical Excellence, The Worshipful Master giving his pre-match talk. I was a bit nervous and missed most of it. Well, when I say most, I actually mean all, so I was at a bit of a loss when he clapped his hands and sent us forth.
The idea was that we began to sing before we left the room so that we could arrive in the hall in full voice and, of course, I was at the head of the parade. I thought about swinging the lantern gaily from side to side to liven things up but decided against it and just marched sombrely in, hoping that the others had followed me and that it wasn’t some elaborate joke that was being played on the Outsider. Luckily, they all trooped in behind me and I led them through the tables and onto the stage where I stood and waited for them to catch up and gather round. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the correct place and somebody had to relocate me with a push, which caused me to stumble and feel even more self-conscious than I already did. I got another couple of shoves from blokes who weren’t happy with my position and I must admit that the thought of retaliation crossed my mind before I remembered that I was on display, so to speak.
The first couple of Carols weren’t a problem, but then they started on stuff I’d never heard before and it got complicated. I had to just move my mouth, a bit like a fish, and pretend that I knew the words. The performance ended with the singing of the Lodge anthem, which might as well have been the Lithuanian anthem for all I knew about it and after a hearty round of applause and a bow, we all stood on the stage shuffling about until I got yet another nudge to convey to me the message that I now had to lead my merry band on the return journey, so I set off back through the applauding multitude and into the side room.
I was happy enough that I hadn’t fallen over or dropped the lantern and I felt like one of the boys, but, and here’s the reason I never enjoy Masonic do’s, the others didn’t feel the same way. Far from thanking me and having a chat, they all formed themselves into little cliques from which I was, of course, excluded. So I leaned the lantern in a corner of the room, stood around with my hands in my pockets being ignored for a minute and eventually just walked off on my own.
The kind of people I normally mix with would see that as downright rude, but these gentlemen were different types. This all happened abut ten years ago, but I am still offended by it. How difficult is it to be friendly?
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Written by Witzl (1585 comments posted) 12th January 2007 |
I very much enjoyed this. I am glad that you had this experience because it gave you yet another interesting thing to write about, and hence another interesting thing for all of us to read.
I have always felt that men form these secret groups because they are jealous of the camaraderie of women and the fact that we get to wear funny hats and they don't. It also gives them the chance to get away from their womenfolk and get out of washing the dishes. Okay, okay -- enough of my sexist nonsense.
My paternal great-grandfather was a mason. His son, my grandfather, was once the Grandmaster of California and wrote a history of Masonry in California. When we went to his funeral in 1965, there were a lot of elderly men in funny hats and aprons, and we three little girls had a hell of a time trying not to laugh ourselves silly. I remember being terrified that a snicker would leak out: it was like trying to hold in the Niagara Falls. |
Written by BuffaloBill (25 comments posted) 12th January 2007 |
Thanks, Witzl, much appreciated.
Even now my wife, who is almost fifty, still refers to the Masons as Shush, which dates back to her childhood when the question "Where's my dad going, mum?" was always answered with "Shush, there's a good girl."
I don't see the need for all the secrecy myself and if they were more open and friendly they might attract more of the young people that they desperately need to prevent the Society from dying out.
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Written by Witzl (1585 comments posted) 12th January 2007 |
But it is all the secrecy and hush-hush and silly intrigue that these men love! You are right: these groups ought to find a way to attract younger members. The secret handshakes and pledges and what-not seem rather passe.
If you are familiar with Bill Watterson's Calvin and Hobbes, there is a wonderful spoof on secret men's societies and how they are formed by self-important men to make themselves look grander than they really are -- and to exclude women. And whatever group they find worrying, such as Catholics, blacks, etc.
What a wonderful expression your wife has for the Masons. 'Shush, there's a Good Girl,' would be a great title for a short story. |
Written by Phil (6435 comments posted) 13th January 2007 |
Enjoyed this. I have no time for the Masons. There's no place in society for an organisation that promotes people due to nepotism rather than merit. The whole thing smacks of inadequate people who can't make their mark in the real world and so enter an invented one that they think (and possibly does) afford them an advantage over the folks who are not welcome into the group. I could go on. I won't.
As I say, enjoyed the piece. And Witzl, most men escape their women by going to those those pubs that the chains have not yet got their hands on. Small, slightly scruffy affairs were the wine is always warm and the floor just a little sticky. There's one such place within walking distance of my home. Bliss.
Phil. |
Written by Fledermaus (3160 comments posted) 17th January 2007 |
This reminded me of a movie in which Louis de Funes played a Catholic who impersonated a rabbi and had to bless Jewish families, upon which he made the sign of the cross 
The more I hear about the freemasons, the more I'm beginning to think that they are like some sort of student fraternity for grown ups. Nothing mysterious, magical or religious, just a club of old boys...
Did they pick you out because you were the tallest person on the party or did they hope to convince you to join? |
Written by BuffaloBill (25 comments posted) 18th January 2007 |
| Hi, Fled. I was the tallest person there, which is why I was given the dubious honour. It would have taken more than a lantern on an old broom handle to persuade me to enrol, I can assure you! |
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