Saturday, December 26, 2009

Christmas here

Linguine with red sauce and mussels and that was just the beginning. Bob Sorrentino is both a talented chef and of the last generation in the family that speaks Italian. Also served: calamari (of course), clams, shrimp, crab, bits of lobster and smoked salmon. Sette pesci: seven fishes.


What I got: no mint-green, factory-original 1961 Impala with only 75K on the odometer, best offer accepted, parked outside, or waking up to find it’s 1961 and the past 48 years were only a weird dream from eating all that fish. (They did what?! What do you mean the biretta belt’s gone? Clarence, I want to go back!) Alas. Not bad at all though: the first year of ‘Mad Men’ in a box and talking after dinner Christmas night to somebody who was in her 20s in the period, both of us marvelling at the changes in technology (she still doesn’t use a computer). I do like the differences from a handful of TV channels to the information revolution and a phone and flat screens that are cooler than the walkie-talkies and displays on ‘Star Trek’. Also got The Bishop’s Wife on disc (good despite the director obviously having no idea what an Anglican boys’ choir sounds like), winter boots and a camera case. For myself: downloaded Ben Andersen’s ordo for the Monastic Diurnal.

Mystery worshipping: at least the African priest wore something decent and used the Roman Canon (albeit ICEL ugly and wrong) but for the most part Pope Benedict’s revival hasn’t reached the dark corners of Mount Laurel. (The tabernacle is pretty well hidden in a corner.) ’80s JPII religion including hands-extended charismatics (probably sound on doctrine — those dear people accepted what was often the only non-Modernist thing their parishes offered). No incense or liturgical music (arm-waving cantrix and piano doing Christmas carols ≠ liturgical music). Impressive attendance, almost all of whom made their Communions and ran out during the third and last verse of the last hymn. Walked out to an almost empty carpark!

Now to be fair High Mass has its its quirks too especially to those new to it: the service stopping and everybody including the clergy sitting down as the choir sing their pieces of music like a concert; the deacon chanting the gospel facing sideways. (Everybody brings up Latin but it’s not about Latin.)

Dollars for the Bambino. Sometimes it’s just fun to scare Protestants.

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