Freddogg Off The Chain

The first question in the Baltimore Catechism is “Who Made Us?” The second is “Who Is God?” please refer back to number one. And the third “Why Did God Make Us?”

I listened to this drill everyday of school outside of Philly through the first eight grades of Catholic grammar school at Our Lady of Grace which Nick Alvino could play on the accordion to Lady of Spain and I would make up sacrilegious lyrics which is pretty impressive for a third grader.

And by the third grade I always sat upfront to the teachers left and the other big kid Richard Nilsson sat opposite to her right to balance the room like you do if you have two fat people aboard a small boat.

Nilsson was tall and goofy, kind of bent over, and he was retarded because back in the 1950’s that was the only designation available. The nuns were always trying to get god into Richard hoping that a miracle would occur and Richard would answer the question he was asked every day for his eight years of school, ”Who made us Richard” but all Richard ever said was “Da Da Da” but they made him sweat and Richard didn’t like it and I didn’t like them beating on him with the dogma of the day routine.

Somewhere in the middle of eighth grade Sister Saint Winifred was eager to have the revelation of who made us pass through the consciousness of Richard. She was asking him over and over and I across the room commenced to mumble which further stiffened Sister’s cardboard bib protecting her breasts from pagan heads that may accidental bump into her repressed self. Sister hated me with “The Passion.”

“You bold brazen article Frederick. There is nothing God hates more than a sneak!”

“That’s funny, ”I said. “In the universe of the All Knowing there are no sneaks. So how can he hate what I cannot become?”

“Shut up! What were you just mumbling? Show some bravery for once in your sinful life and own up to your mumbled words. I promise I won’t punish you.”

I said, “Richard hasn’t known for eight years of school who made him but if he ever finds out he won’t be a Catholic boy any longer.”

That penguin bitch attacked me—now that’s weird because penguins are nice- started slapping me and calling me names and Richard Nilsson was laughing and he knew why he was laughing and I deduced the “Da Da Da”was just Richard’s game, played to perfection, but only god could be perfect is what we were taught and so when they asked me “who is god” I said, ”Richard Nilsson” and you know, perhaps, just perhaps, he was?

Peace Freddogg