The wife: "What are you doing tonight?"
Me: "Writing a blog."
The wife: "About what?"
Me: "I dunno. Whatever I type."
This is the beauty of my blogging. I don't pre-plan. I just sit down and type. That's why the grammar tends to suck. I don't edit. I don't go back. I just do.
The wife: "Did you see? They cut down that green ash down the street."
Me: [Stabbing pain in my chest.] "WHAT?" [I panic. That tree is less than 1/4 mile away.]
The wife: "Yeah, the one next to the one that looks sick."
Me: [Gasping for air.] "They cut down the healthy one?" [Head is spinning. Why would they cut down the healthy one? The other one looks terrible.] "Why would they cut down the healthy one?"
The wife: "It was split right in half. I don't know what happened. They cut it down. The other one is still standing there."
For those of you wondering why the hell I would care about a neighborhood green ash tree getting chopped down, go back and read about my love for our personal, beautiful, glorious green ash tree. It's been terrible. I try not to worry about it but I am obsessed. Those two green ash trees down the block grab my attention every time we walk the dogs past them. They look like they've been stricken with the green ash borer. I'd walk the other way, but the tree up the street about a block away (opposite direction) also looks sickly and borer-like. This is really bad news--we are in a borer sandwich. Shudder.
I go out into the bazillion degree heat and take a gander at our tree. I do not like what I see. There are a whole lot of dead branches in there...but, it doesn't look as sickly as the neighboring trees, so I consider this. I don't know, I don't know. I return inside and verbalize my fret. The wife cajoles me: "Our tree is fine. Is that all you're going to do? Then, let's cut it down."
I decide a different topic would be prudent.
Let's talk about what the hell happened to Catholic Mass. That's a heck of a lot better thing to worry about than our most beloved tree having bugs.
We went to a baptism on the wife's side--in the Cheddarlands, of course. It was a Catholic baptism, which means you get to sit through an entire Catholic Mass and then attend the baptism after the mass. This event was complete with four newborn, getting-baptized babies and a 12 year old priest in training. (One of the babies was decked out in a white tuxedo and sporting a gel-formed Mohawk. That rocked!) So, I settle in to the pew, feeling quite comfortable--after all, I was raised in the Catholic church and I am comforted by the familiarity of the Mass....
Well, that familiarity when right out the window mighty fast...I'm standing and sitting and standing, like always, when it strikes. What the hell? They've changed the wording!
Who the heck changed the wording of the Catholic Mass and when did this happen???? I was flummoxed. When someone says, "the Lord be with you," you answer, without fail, "and also with you."
Well.Not.Anymore.
Now when someone says, "The Lord be with you," you answer, "and with your spirit."
WTH is that??? I dont' even know what that means. With my spirit?? Seriously? Am I at cheerleading camp? Am I spirited? With your spirit? I can't say that. I have to say "and also with you." I'm not saying "with your spirit."
It hasn't been THAT long since I stepped foot into a Mass, has it? With my spirit???
It got worse. I actually looked around at the wife's family while reciting the Apostle doohickey and the people said, "Jesus is the consubstantial with the father." Consubstantial? Is that like a sub-contractor? Is that unsubstantial to be consubstantial? What's the difference between insubstantial, unsubstantial and consubstantial? WHERE IS MY SMART PHONE? I need to google this! I need to google this!
And, poor Mary. She, according to the new and improved Nicene Creed, no longer gave birth to Jesus.....she was incarnate...or was Jesus incarnate? Someone was incarnate. What the heck does incarnate mean? The baby Jesus and that good friend, the holy spirit (who I always call the holy ghost) "was incarnate of the Virgin Mary."
Go figure. Incarnate. That doesn't sound good. I mean, I'm picturing incarcerated, even though I know that's not what happened to Mary. Then, I'm picturing Jesus as a reincarnated baby. That can't be good, either. Does the Catholic Church suddenly believe in reincarnation? If you are not re-incarnate, are you "just" carnate? Why, why, why didn't I bring my smart phone into Mass with me?
There seemed to be less kneeling, which is good....and, more standing, which isn't good or bad--just different. I decided my confusion had to be nothing in comparison to what the people had to live through when they changed the Mass from Latin to English. That must've been something. I'm sure people were much more than consubstantial-ated when that happened.
I have since learned that the changes happened in November 2011. I felt better after learning that. I'm not that behind the times. I may not be a practicing Catholic but I like to stay in touch with my peeps.
Thankfully, the baptism script was the same. The only thing different--besides having a 12 year old practice priest giving the homily--was that the "real" priest seemed to possess a need to soak each baby with a full pitcher of water. I'm not kidding--an entire pitcher per child. He shoulda just dunked them head first into the tub and called it a day. I must say, it got the babies who were crying to stop crying. I think they were so stunned that they were literally stunned into silence. Of course, this means the one non-crying baby started screaming. Ah well, one screamer out of four ain't bad.
Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I'm going to take my spirit out to the yard and hope the tree gets consubstantiated or carnated or incarnated or incarcerated or something right before my eyes. Be gone, ye bugs of doom! And, if you say, "the Lord be with you" while I am standing by that tree, I am SOOOO going to say, "and also with you."
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