I really don’t have a title for this one. Had to put something up there though, so “Whatever!”

I should begin by wishing everyone a Happy Labor Day. Kick back, feet up, fire up the grill and enjoy the day, but please do so safely. Observe the suggestions from the people who know and wear masks, no more than 10 people per gathering and stay six feet away from each other. If we all do this around the world we have a chance to get closer next summer, but this virus is serious and non-discriminating and just lying in wait for people to get too close this year. We have a chance of getting out alive, but only is we all observe the suggested regulations.

Now, I started thinking about telling this story Sunday morning while attending virtual Mass being offered by my brother. Incidentally, he’s a priest so is allowed to do this — um, offer Mass, that is. I suddenly began thinking about a tall tale my dad used to tell us about back when Mass was in Latin. It seems there was a new young alter boy named Dominick. He was serving Mass for the first time and eager to please. Near the end of Mass there is a final blessing and in Latin the words are “Dominus vobiscum”, English translation — loosely translated — is “The Lord be with you”, and that is very loose because I haven’t used Latin since 1965! Okay, so the presiding priest intoned Dominus vobiscum, and then watched little Dominick head out to the rows of pews and begin to frisk all the gents. He proudly took his loot to the altar and handed it to an astonished priest who then asked him why he did that. Dominick looked at Father and replied, “You just said Dominick, go frisk ’em!”

After this I remembered something that actually happened one Sunday in my parish in Whitesville, KY. I was doing the music that Sunday morning and standing at the microphone that gave me a clear view of all that was happening. Father was supposed to read a letter from the bishop that morning but had forgotten to bring it out, so he tapped one of the servers on the shoulder and asked him to go back and “get the letter”. It was a live view of someone hearing something wrong! I was doing a meditation song at the moment but could see it all, the little boy went past the “letter” on the table in the Sacristy, out the back door and began searching for something while Father stood in the pulpit waiting, asking questions of me that I didn’t have an answer for while attempting to watch the child and not lose my place in the song I was attempting to lead. All I could do was shake my head and shrug my shoulders as much as possible with a guitar slung across them.

As I continued to watch, the child finally found one of the church maintenance men and spoke with him for a moment, then followed him as he went into a shed and finally came out carrying an extension “ladder”. Phonetics are very important at times like this. They reentered the church by a side door because the ladder was too long to bring through the back. Father stood there, mouth dropping open, the congregation slowly caught on to way there was a delay and a few giggles broke out in several places and the little boy and the man strode over to father and delivered the “ladder” instead of the “letter”, which Father, not taking any more chances left the pulpit and retrieved the letter himself.

I never asked why the maintenance man didn’t question the child about the ladder, but regional accents had a lot to do with what the priest said and what the child heard. So, Dominick, go frisk ’em while I go look for a ladder! Have a wonderful day.


21 thoughts on “Whatever!”

  1. Both of these stories made me chuckle!!! Being nearly deaf, I can especially relate to the one about the ladder, for I quite often mistake one word for another, which sometimes leads to great mirth for my girls! Thanks for the humour today, my friend! Hope you are feeling well today! ❀

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    1. I still laugh every time I think about it — both stories actually. My dad was much better telling the Dominick story than I am but he always came up with a story about something. He was also a big practical joker and could take it as well as dishing it out.

      I’m being lazy today, finished one quilt and working on the last block of another. No, didn’t just begin today. It’s been packed in a box for a couple of months while I was working on doll clothes. Now I’m just going to quilt for a while and get some ready for Christmas.


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      1. My dad was much the same … he could always bring a laugh, and rather than reading my bedtime stories, he made them up on the fly!

        You should have a lazy day sometimes … I have more than my share of them lately! Christmas??? 😱 NOOOooooooooooo!!!! Not yet! Not for at least another year!!!

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      2. I fully agree with that!!! Things just stop working right, the body seems to have a mind of its own, and I’m sick of this ‘old age’ thing! Hope you’re doing reasonably well otherwise, though?

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      3. I hear you, my friend. I’ve been under the weather for a few days and I curse my body on an hourly basis. Our weather is better, too, with the 90s having been replaced by upper 70s, but the air quality is still so poor that if I step outside to water the flowers, I am gasping by the time I get back in. Sigh.

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      4. Well now we just can’t expect everything at once now can we? Of course, I would be happy for something once in a while, but so far it isn’t happening. At least I’ve gone a complete day without cussing something now, so that is a plus. It helps that I’ve been asleep most of the day, but hey, I’ll take it anyway I can. And we march steadily on to November! πŸ˜‡πŸ’–

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      5. Silly me! Of course we can’t! You’ve gone a complete day without cussing??? What’s your secret? Oh … sleeping most of the day. Sigh. Won’t work for me. Yes, we march toward November … to our doom? Sigh. Love ya! ❀

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      6. Awwww … maybe you should have slept more today, too? Try for a happy medium tomorrow … just drop half the things you pick up, and only cuss half as much! I must discipline myself … I find I am calling many republicans by a word I always hated … until a few days ago … and suddenly it seems like such an appropriate word! Begins with an s … I’ll let you figure it out. Sigh. I am turning into someone that even I don’t like.

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      7. I’ve just been sitting here working on a quilt and not looking up at anything. That helps me avoid dropping things on the floor. Wish it would stop me from sweeping everything off all surrounding tables and sewing table, but unfortunately it only adds to the frustration. Big sigh! It all seems hopeless! And I turned into that person I don’t like a long time ago. After a few months/years you forget who you were before and just learn to go with the flow. πŸ˜‡πŸ’–πŸ‘

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      8. You do the best you can, my friend, and that is all you can do. If you’re like me, you’re your own worst critic. I curse myself a hundred times a day and call myself a ‘stupid bitch’ at least ten times a day. I think we need to invent something to automatically pick up whatever you drop or sweep off the tables! Sort of like a little robot! Hang in, Angie … I cannot imagine how difficult it is, but the fact that you’re still fighting the fight, still making quilts, tells me you’re not ready to give up yet …. and I’m glad. Love you! ❀

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  2. (Last used Latin maybe 200x?) Benediction (right name? not Catholic) is “[May] The Lord go with you”. The vob- root is the same – I think – as the one in Quo Vadis, “Where are you going”.

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    1. Benediction is correct, Or the last blessing as we called when used in Mass. I’m impressed that you used Latin at all. I had three years of it in school besides every day Mass and used to speak it a little bit, but now can’t remember anything except the English message written in ever book of Latin I ever saw: “Latin is a dead language, dead as it can be. First it killed the Romans and now it’s killing me”!


      1. The extent of my Latinate ability now is mostly non-conscious filing Latin-derived words as such in my mind. Was taught reading only, not “conversational” Latin. That message I saw scratched into a standalone locker though, and in a room that never had a Latin class that I knew of, slightly varied: “Latin is a language, dead as can be. It killed the ancient Romans, and now it’s killing me!”

        You attended Mass dayly? That sounds like a more than common devotion to the (Catholic I assume?) Church.

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  3. High school in a convent boarding school meant Mass every day. And yes, absolutely Catholic with a brother who is a priest. He is now the chaplain at that convent which closed the school a few years ago and is now a conference and retreat center. My mom was also a graduate of the school — class of 1936 for her, 1960 for me. One sister began there, lasted about six months and finished up at the local Catholic High. I think I’m the one who told her to pack her clothes and I would take her home when it got to be too much for her. Going there was a treat for our mom who was the first daughter in a family of ten boys and three girls. She had eight older bothers, so getting away from them had to have been a relief.

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