Sunday Sacrilege

Hi All!

Wow! Only 10:35 and I'm on the third post of the day -- and I haven't let a drop of caffeine pass my lips.

Daughter and I just got home from the Backstreet. Chili omelet yet to be processed into gastro-intestinal distress, the news shows are over, there is over an hour to game time, so here I am.

The 8:30 at St. Agnes is unofficially the "Family" mass. It is well attended by very "good" Catholics in the sense of, well, big broods of little noisy Catholics. I suffer the ambient noise which is easier these days with modern P.A. systems. When I was an altar boy at St. Marks my pastor, Msgr. Gilligan could simply not abide two things: latecomers and crying infants. And he'd let you know from the pulpit.

Anyhow, it was a good Mass -- the musical selections were particularly inspring -- they were the types of hymns one has pretty much committed to memory, but it still helps to follow in the book. "Holy Lord We Praise They Name", "At This First Eucharist", "Holy God, Mighty God." Ah, now that's church music! None of that new age geetar crap that crept in after Vatican II.

Of course, the priest faces the altar, not the congregation. As today's celebrant raised his arms his glorious antique vestments were spread to reveal what I could simply not, despite fervent prayer, get out of my head as resembling a giant Cercopia.

Sorry, I just couldn't help it. To sin so soon after Communion! Well, at least my thoughts weren't the Jimmah Cahtah* type of sins.

Cheers!

*Worst President in My Lifetime