Notes I wrote to myself then lost, then found when looking under the cushions of my couch for money to buy new address labels since I now have about, oh...3,000 that say 403 Grandview Ave and will soon be obsolete. Maybe I can get Michael or Fr. Peter to buy them at a discount and just cross out my name and write theirs over mine. Michael? Nah, but if I toss in a set of Ginsu knives for Peter, he'll fall for anything...
My couch. People have asked me about my couch. Am I taking it with me? No. If not, who gets it? People want my couch more than Humphrey Bogart wanted the Treasure of Sierra Madre. They must think there's some buried treasure in it. I could have a lottery based on the PA evening daily number. Only 1,000 tickets will be given out. But-there's always a but, huh? -you have to be a registered member of the parish to receive one. None of this “But Faddah, I come to mass every week, I just don't get envelopes!” Hey. If I know you or Michael knows you, you're getting one, but if you call the rectory and ask if Monsignor Knorr can get you a ticket or you can't pronounce my last name, or come within five consonants of spelling it correctly, you're outta luck.
Or, I could have a parish version of “Deal or No Deal.” Instead of Howie Mandel as host, Bishop Zubik will be the host, and Pope Francis will be the guy in the booth setting the odds. (I invited him here to get away for a week from all the chaos of those reactionaries who are critical of his letter “The Joy of Love”[ Amoris Laetitia]). I asked all the brides from my thirty-two weddings this year to participate and hold brief cases.
Or, the winner could be determined by strict Q & A until one remained standing. But I was worried I'd get discouraged by the lack of religious education with responses like:
“Q: “Who lives in the Vatican?
A: “The Vaticans?”
OK, I'll give you a hint. He wears a tall hat.
A: “Abraham Lincoln?”
Don't know what's still in that couch, but I've been looking for notes in that piece of furniture for more than twenty-seven years now and still finding money, so in the words of Harry Callahan (a.k.a. “Dirty”) “Do you feel lucky?”
No, this column will not continue from Florida after I retire. All things have their time, and this is one. I may start a blog, and if I do, I'll let you know the information for the web site.
I want to thank Fr. Michael for allowing me to continue P&WFW after the merger. He is just the best priest, person and friend to work with. Seriously. What pastor do you know who would allow his assistant/ parochial vicar, senior or not, to write a weekly column with some of the things I've written over the last four years? He's never questioned/ challenged or asked me to take anything out. I know he's taken some heat. You should ask him sometime about his early days when he came to St. Mary of the Mount and we used to exchange bulletins between St. Justin and SMOM about his first reaction to my columns. It's a howl to hear.
Good-bye couch. You've been a source of great inspiration for a lot of prayer and offbeat humor. I hope you've enjoyed it. One last column to go to say my good-byes.