Freddogg Off The Chain

What is the difference between a nunnery and a convent not to mention a Mother House and the answer is "no difference" they are all scary places populated by elderly women driving shinny electric golf carts down slippery tile hallways on the way to the cafeteria were the food is served by happy Christians who don’t expect tips other than “the idle mind is the devils workshop” Or is that Idol Mind or Billy Idol dancing with himself which is a confessable sin I believe as in the Apostles Creed. “I believe in one god the Father Almighty who sometimes breaks into three but not really so don’t worry be happy because you can never understand.”
Last Saturday I went to the 75th jubilee of Sister Martina Catharine Nolan who is just shy of 90 and is my wife’s grandmother’s niece. Sister Martina is from the order of Grey Nuns of the Sacred Heart and mostly they have been teachers and principals of Catholic schools and their average run to full blown golf cart retirement is 60 years give or take.
There were four nuns totaling 300 years-hence called Jubilarians although quite frankly they didn’t look all that happy- as their families came to celebrate but as the statues of Joseph , Mary and Baby Jesus looked out over the church so did I and I noticed no little children and I know why because Children are little disrupters of ceremony and everything else for that matter which is why Freud called them “emerging savages” and nuns call them “little heathens” or “pagan children” although not so much anymore. I was called a pagan child so many times in the primary grades I thought my parents were in a motorcycle gang.
There was the “everyone offer each other the sign of peace” mass interrupted moment of conviviality which I hate because it’s so Christy Minstrel Folk Mass like and then every one went to communion except the noticeable me because currently Mr. Pagan Baby can’t see much difference among Idol worships although I do have a McNabb Bobble Head.
I saw the three priests killing the left over wine swishing around the deep bowl of the gold chalice and I said to my wife,”Now there’s a surprise” and she said they had to do that because “the wine had been consecrated” and I thought “I’ll have to remember that one next time I’m too far down bourbon street to turn back.
After Mass there was real wine and Coors Lite in the cafeteria and the food included sliced roast beef, lasagna and lobster tail chased by little puff daddy desserts lanced with a large wooden pick then shoved into the chocolate fountain and my daughter Carrie asked the obvious question “Where do Catholics get all their money” and all I could think is they collect all the time but are tax exempt and just a bit sneaky.
Ceremonies and long sit down dinner confabs make my feet hurt and make me tired so I retired to my 4runner where Donovan and I listened to the NFL draft and you should have seen him bobble when the Eagles selected a quarterback with their first pick.
Keep the faith McNabble!

Peace be with you

Father Freddogg