Dateline: Lake Geneva, WI
Novembr 29, 2015
I love Sunday morning.
I used to love going to Catholic Mass every Sunday morning when I was very young. I used to love to look at the girls and women who got all dolled up to worship the living Christ, or the dead one. It didn’t matter to me. I thought they all looked splendid and they were terribly and unapproachably attractive to my adolescent mind.
The priests and nuns didn’t much like me though and that sort of soured my attending as I got older and could think with a less centrally located part of my body. The priests and nuns didn’t like my questions or conclusions anymore than some of the people who’ve dumped me on Facebook. Now I have the Sunday Morning television show on CBS and an Enya disk or two with one by Fun too.
I have only gone to the local Catholic Church once for a visit as a reporter for the Geneva Shore Report. The priest I met was a pompous prick so I didn’t go back. I have trouble believing. It’s God’s fault. He gave me this brain and this lack of ability to narrow my focus and stop paying attention to anything other than what I’m told. I’ll pray for help.
Later. Over a cup of 100% Kona served at the Geneva Java Coffee Shop, the only coffee shop in the world I can’t be thrown out of because I own it (well, a good part of it, anyway).