I got to bed after midnight Saturday night after drinking too much Oberon beer. Johnny Cash sang to me Sunday morning (lyrics), but I couldn't sleep past 6:00 a.m., so I got up, popped a 600 mg Motrin, checked my fantasy football lineup, took a bath, then went back to bed. I stumbled up in time for 8:30 Mass (had to get there early b/c Jack was serving). I was feeling pretty good, and then, before the final blessing, they started the saccharine 9/11 tape. Loyal readers know how I feel about it. This is the sixth time the Powers That Be in our parish have forced us to listen to it. SIX TIMES! I DON'T FEEL GREAT! PLEASE, STOP! Actually, I didn't say a word. I just walked out as discretely as possible.
Here's the thing: Someone obviously thinks that tape is one of the greatest things ever made (and truth be told, it has a nice message; I didn't mind it the first time I heard it). But if it's so great, make the announcement that you're going to play it after Mass, then everyone who thinks it's great, will stick around. If you announced, "After Mass, Chuck Berry will be performing," I'd stay.
But of course, they know it ain't that hot, so they cram it down our throats by playing it before the final blessing, when they have a captive audience. But if it's not that hot, why play it SIX times (actually more; six is just the number of times they've caught me)? If it's great, people will stay. If it's not great, don't spring it on the same congregation six or more times. If you want to hear it, click the link above and listen to it on your own over and over. Listen to it in a box, with a fox, in a house, with a mouse, in a plane or on a train. You have that freedom. It's America. You can cry all you want . . . just don't jackboot me and insist that I participate in your lust for emotional upheaval.
Anyway, despite the rant, I encourage everyone this week to pray for the souls of those killed on 9/11 and remember the brave firemen that entered the towers. It's still a tragedy that we should all remember in our own way.
