Writing with Drive

My fiendish plan worked! As I said in my previous post, I've been thinking lately about doing some writing, both dusting off some old unfinished projects, and starting on some new stuff. Both of these projects would require some library research, so I got the bright idea to upload what I had written to Google Drive (Google's online word processing app) so that whether I was at home or at the library, I would have access to all my files without the aid of a laptop, tablet, smartphone, or other portable device that I can't afford right now. This morning on a visit to the nearest branch of the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Public Library, I logged into Google Drive, found one of my unfinished stories, and made a small addition. When I got home and checked my computer, there was the addition, ready and waiting. I've spent the last few minutes rereading what I've written so far and tinkering with it. It's a strange feeling; it's been years since I worked on this story, but in another sense, it feels as if I've never been away. Can I keep this going? I hope so.

2014: Looking Ahead

In my previous post, I looked back over the major events of my life in 2013. Now I'd like to look ahead a bit and think about what I'd like to accomplish in the New Year 2014. It's been frequently noted (indeed, I'm sure most of us can see it in our own lives) that most "New Year's Resolutions" fail miserably. As my Facebook friend and fellow blogger William "Billy" Newton observes, based on statistical evidence, human beings tend to make grand, noble-sounding plans to "lose weight," "get in shape," "get organized," or "be a better person," but usually give up in a short time because our goals aren't specific and measurable enough. If your goal isn't specific enough to be measured, how will you know when you've reached it? If you don't know when you've reached your goal, what will motivate you to keep pressing on until you've achieved it?

I myself am notorious for making grand plans, announcing a course of action, and then failing to follow through, usually when I realize it's going to take more work than I figured to reach my goal. Yet at the same time I've been thinking about how the New Year does gives us an opportunity to take stock, start over again with a clean slate, and maybe, just maybe, do things a little differently, and a little better than we did in the past. I'm especially conscious of this, having recently relocated to a new city and a new and better living situation than I've had for many years. I'd like to set out some goals (I hesitate to call them "resolutions" because somehow that seems more formal, grand, and ominous) that I'd like to achieve in the new year. In setting them down here, I realize I'm committing myself to something. I may look back on this post in a year and realize I've failed miserably and embarrassed myself, but on the other hand, writing these goals down and posting them in public may just shame me into keeping them. Here goes.

I have three broad areas of interest in my life right now: broadening and deepening my Catholic faith and my relationship with Jesus Christ; resuming and continuing my genealogical and family history research; and resuming and continuing my creative writing. I have specific goals I'd like to achieve in each of these areas.

As far as my Catholic faith is concerned, I would like to continue attending the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite (the Traditional Latin Mass) and learn more about the spirituality behind it until I am as comfortable and familiar with the Traditional or Extraordinary Form as I am with the vernacular or Ordinary Form. I would like to go through the entire calendar year (from this past June when I started to going to EF Masses until next June) and through the entire liturgical year (from Advent to Advent) with the Extraordinary Form. I've said on Facebook that somebody needs to write The Extraordinary Form for Dummies or something like it, and lately, I've even begun to entertain the preposterous idea that I could be that somebody. I would know when the book would reach its intended audience of dummies because I would be the Chief Dummy. I'm not a theologian, liturgist, priest, or religious; I'm just a poor, dumb schmuck in the pews, trying to get to heaven like everybody else. If the book made sense and was helpful to me, maybe it would make sense and be helpful to other people. I've begun making notes and doing preliminary research. I will aim to have a first draft ready by this time next year.

I would also like to learn to pray the Liturgy of the Hours, but this may be too ambitious if I am also writing and doing research. I purchased a breviary and The Divine Office for Dodos by Madeline Pecora Nugent, a guide for learning the Divine Office, by several years ago, but found both the learning process and the guidebook more difficult than expected. Nugent tries so hard to make her writing style cheerful and encouraging that it actually backfires and comes across as annoyingly chirpy and a bit condescending, cheering the reader on as if he is a slightly dimwitted child. Daria Sockey's book, The Everyday Catholic's Guide to the Liturgy of the Hours, has been recommended to me, and I'd like to try it. I will purchase the book this week and see how far I can get with praying the Hours by this time next year.

As far as my genealogical research is concerned, my research has been stalled for over a year and I'd really like to change that. I've been able to establish that my great-great grandfather James E. Leslie (1823-1875) was born in Iredell County, NC,  moved to Lowndes County, AL some time before 1850, set up a blacksmith business, and served in a Confederate cavalry regiment as a blacksmith during the Civil War. However, I don't know where in Iredell County he was born, who his parents were, and when or why he moved to Alabama. I sent e-mail and made a phone call to the Genealogical Society of Iredell County but received no reply whatsoever. I will make contact with the GSIC by the end of this month, and if that fails, I will see what I can find through other channels including the Iredell County Courthouse and the North Carolina Office of Archives and History.

Finally, as far as my creative writing goes, I have no fewer than three unfinished superhero origin stories (which sometimes feel like three versions of the same story) on my hard drive waiting to be completed. My interest in the superhero concept has waxed and waned periodically over the years since I first discovered the HeroMachine website and software, but I'm still intrigued by these characters I've created with it, and it's always bothered me that I haven't yet been able to finish their stories. Maybe this is the year. I will have a completed draft of at least one origin story ready by this time next year.

2013 In Review

Happy New Year!

It's high time to bring this blog up to date, and I thought one way to do that might be to take a brief look back at the year just past and speculate a bit about the year to come. For me personally, 2013 was a year of invasions, abdications, relocations, infections, and explorations.

The year got off to a rough start with a home invasion in mid-January that turned my life upside down for quite a while. Until that time, my principal occupation had been researching my genealogy and family history, but dealing with the invasion and its aftermath largely brought that to a halt. After my family and I got over the initial shock of the event, we decided it was time for me to move to a safer location, and my brother and sister in the Charlotte area quickly set to work finding a new place for me to live. They found the condominium where I now live remarkably quickly, and February and the early part of March were largely devoted to my packing up and preparing to move. During that preparation phase, the world received the stunning news that Pope Benedict XVI had decided to abdicate and step down from the Chair of Peter, a thing not seen in several hundred years. It seemed change was in the air for the whole Catholic Church, not just for me.

I arrived in Charlotte in early March and immediately got to work lining up the medical and social support services I knew I would need: doctors, home nursing care, medical supplies, attendant services, Medicare and Medicaid, Social Security disability benefits, and transportation services. There were, of course, some bureaucratic tangles, but on the whole, the process went remarkably well. One afternoon in March, as I was in the bathroom taking a break from filling out forms and making phone calls, my brother called to tell me that Pope Francis had just been elected.  It seems the whole world, Catholic and non-Catholic alike, is still trying to figure out what to make of this unconventional Pope, the first from the Americas, who seems to be a reformist and a man with a gift for saying and doing the unexpected and surprising thing.

Ironically, just as the Catholic Church and the world at large seemed to embrace this pope who is developing a reputation as a progressive and a reformer, it seemed my own personal practice of the Catholic faith moved in a more conservative and traditional direction. Ever since I had arrived in Charlotte, I'd been seeking a church home; I had visited a couple of parishes in the Charlotte area, but neither of them felt quite right. One of my Facebook friends in Charlotte recommended her parish, which is very tradition-friendly. I've blogged before about how much I've come to love sacred polyphonic music, and when I saw that my friend's parish regularly celebrated the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite (aka the Tridentine Mass or the Traditional Latin Mass), I thought this might be an excellent opportunity to hear some of the music I had come to love in its proper context, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. I started attending the Extraordinary Form masses in June, and to be perfectly honest, found them baffling at first. My fellow Mass-goers, however, explained that the Extraordinary Form does take a bit of getting used to and urged me to keep coming. I have kept coming to the EF Mass, and with each liturgy I attend, the rite becomes a little more familiar and a little more comfortable. I consider it part of my continuing education as a Catholic.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to go to Mass or anywhere else for much of the month of July, as I came down with a nasty infection that kept me sidelined for over a month. Eventually, however, I did get well, and aside from some occasional trouble with sciatica or a pinched nerve, I've been able to avoid any major medical catastrophes since then. May it remain so, at least for a while, for awhile, please God!

In mid-November, I received a letter from the solicitor's (prosecutor's) office back in South Carolina that the police had made an arrest in my home invasion case, and the solicitor was preparing to bring the case to trial. I wrote a detailed letter back describing my recollections of the crime and its effect on me. I also spoke by phone with someone in the solicitor's office who told me that the defendant in this case is facing other outstanding charges, and in all likelihood will "plead out" or plead guilty to a lesser charge in order to avoid doing time for a greater one. The defendant in my case is being charged with armed robbery, and the case is likely to come before a judge sometime in February. I'll post more information as it becomes available. I've heard crime victims on TV news shows talk about the need for "closure," and for the first time in my life I understand what they mean. With the perpetrator of my crime behind bars and preparing to face the justice he deserves, I feel as if I can truly begin to close this chapter in my life and move on to whatever comes next.

December and my first Christmas in Charlotte were quiet and low-key but peaceful and happier than my Christmas celebrations have been for some years now. Like many adults who are getting older, I feel a twinge of nostalgia and melancholy as I recall all those long-ago childhood Christmases with their mix of feverish anticipation, excitement, and delight. I miss my parents, who worked so hard to make Christmas special for my brothers, sisters, and me. As my sister observed, Christmas just doesn't seem quite as much fun without them around. Yet this year, we were able to get almost everyone together (on New Year's Eve, if not Christmas Day) and we were truly happy to be together. For that moment we were all content with the present and unafraid of the future. Whatever hardships may come, I pray we will face them together because we are a family and we love each other. I feel extraordinarily blessed to be here at this time in this place. Deo gratias! Thanks Be to God!

Beard, beard, beard, beard, beardy beard! (Or I can't stop giggling over this)

 Congratulations to the Boston Red Sox and their fans who are probably STILL celebrating the Sox recent victory over the St. Louis Cardinals in the World Series. I didn't have a huge emotional investment in this year's series (my team of choice would've been the Atlanta Braves), but I have friends and family members who are originally from the Boston area, so I was pleased for their sakes that the Sox came out on top.

The morning after the victory, Facebook friend, blogger, and Bostonian Dom Bettinelli posted this little opus to Facebook and I've been chuckling over it ever since:



In case you were wondering, yes, it's a parody of "What Does the Fox Say?" that annoyingly catchy, earworm-producing dance tune by the Norwegian pop band Ylvis:



Enjoy! (He says with a fiendish laugh).

Superman: 75 Years in 2 Minutes

In honor of Superman's 75th anniversary this year (Action Comics #1 was published in June 1938), here's a nifty little animated short film from Bruce Timm and Zack Snyder chronicling the Man of Steel's journey from comics to TV and film. Timm is the creative mastermind behind recent animated versions of Batman, Superman, and other heroes from the DC pantheon, both on television and in direct-to-DVD releases. Snyder is the director of the recently released Man of Steel movie. Notice how the drawing style changes to reflect Superman's evolution over the decades.

Guided Missals

As part of my ongoing exploration of the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite (aka Traditional Latin Mass, Tridentine Mass), last week I took the plunge and ordered the second edition of the St. Edmund Campion Missal and Hymnal for the Traditional Latin Mass, published by Corpus Christi Watershed. My parish uses the Vatican II Hymnal, also published by Corpus Christi Watershed, as the missal and hymnal for its Ordinary Form Masses, and I am impressed by the attractiveness of its presentation and the selection of hymns. I've also been impressed by some of the recent liturgical musical compositions published and released by CC Watershed which are truly beautiful, reverent, and clearly inspired by and modeled after chant and polyphony, which I love.

The Campion Missal was very favorably reviewed by Father John Zuhlsdorf (Father Z.) and mentioned on Facebook by another priest friend of mine, Father Gaurav Shroff. Because the publishers just released the second edition, they are trying to promote it by offering individual and bulk copies at a considerable discount, and the net price is better than that for many comparable hand missals out there. On Monday of last week, I called the fulfillment house that's shipping the new missals, placed a phone order, and received my copy on Saturday, just in time for a "road test" at this Sunday's Mass. Overall, I was very pleased with the new missal. The Mass Propers are at the front of the book, with the Ordinaries for both High and Low Masses towards the middle. Prefaces for Feast Days are further toward the back, with a Kyriale, or collection of Gregorian Chant settings, and a generous selection of traditional hymns at the very back. As bonuses, the book also includes interior line art, color photos of the EF Mass being celebrated, and photos of pages from ancient and medieval manuscript missals.

Some users of the first edition complained that the cover and interior artwork of the first edition were excessively colorful, elaborate, and distracting, so the publishers have toned down these features just a bit for the second edition. The second edition now features a more sedate plain gray cover, and the ornamental capital letters for some of the interior text in the first edition, that were designed to be reminiscent of those in medieval illuminated manuscripts, have largely been simplified or eliminated. While the first edition had no bookmarks whatsoever, the second edition includes a single gray ribbon bookmark. Some users on Father Z's site complained that more ribbons would have been useful, but others pointed out that the bookmark problem can easily be corrected with holy cards or a multiple-ribbon bookmark available from any Catholic bookstore or seller  of religious goods.

The book is considerably larger than many hand missals, and this may be an advantage or a disadvantage, depending on one's point of view. It's an advantage insofar as the larger page size allows for a larger, easier to read typeface and less flipping back and forth between the various parts of the missal. The Ordinaries for High and Low Masses are printed in special color-coded sections on heavier quality stock than the rest of the book, making them easy to find and flip back to during the Mass.

The book's large size may be a disadvantage, however, if users find it heavier, bulkier, and less portable than other missals. It's really meant to be  a church book, purchased by the parish, used, and left in the pews rather than a hand missal purchased and used by individual parishioners. Nevertheless, for someone like me, who is still trying to become familiar with the Extraordinary Form, this is a very attractive and useful resource. It's a high quality book at a very reasonable price.

If purchasing a hardcover missal is a bigger investment than many individuals or parishes are willing to make, there are lower cost alternatives. My parish uses the Latin-English Booklet Missal for Praying the Traditional Mass (also known as Pray the Holy Mass) published by Coalition Ecclesia Dei and available from many Catholic booksellers. A Latin-Spanish version is also available. This little paperback booklet includes only the Ordinary of the Mass, but it's available for about $7 a copy and is far less expensive and far more portable and affordable than many comparable products. My parish's website also includes links to an online version of the liturgical calendar used before Vatican II and a list of PDF handouts with the Propers for each week's EF Mass. It's a simple matter to consult the calendar, find out which Propers will be used that week, print them, fold them, and insert them into the missal. Many Mass-goers find this a simpler and more convenient option than using a larger and more expensive hand missal. I may try this option myself next week.

Dicas Latinae? Tertia pars (Do you speak Latin? Third Part)

Dicas Latinae? (Do you speak Latin?) Fortasse (Maybe).

I'm continuing with my explorations and investigations of what is variously called the Traditional Latin Mass, the Tridentine Mass, or the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite, but it's clear I still have a lot to learn. For instance, I just figured out that the Latin phrase I have been using to open each post in this series may actually be wrong. I learned it from an old retired priest who was filling in at a parish I used to belong to back in South Carolina. He was old enough to remember the days of the Latin Mass and could even remember the days when seminary classes were conducted in Latin to improve would-be priests' command of the language. He said he could recall instances where his brother priests greeted him with a phrase that sounded like "Dicas Latinae?" meaning "Do you speak Latin?" I learned the word fortasse (maybe) by using an online translation website. However, when I try to translate the English phrase, "Do you speak Latin?" using an online translator, I don't get Dicas Latinae, but something else. When I type in Dicas Latinae, I get something like, "The phrase you entered is not in the dictionary." Hmm. If someone out there in the interwebs can help improve my Latin and tell me which phrase to use, I would be grateful

Be that as it may. Since I last blogged on this topic, I've been to the Extraordinary Form Mass a few more times and officially joined the parish here in Charlotte where the EF Mass is regularly celebrated. (Those familiar with the Charlotte area or anyone else who really cares to can probably figure out which parish that is, but I will refrain from mentioning them by name here). For purposes of comparison, I've also attended one of their Ordinary Form (English) masses, and I found that both forms of the liturgy were celebrated with beauty, dignity, and, most importantly, reverence for Christ present in the Eucharist. I am ever so slowly beginning to get a sense of what's what in the EF, but much about it still mystifies me. I don't know if I'll switch to the Ordinary Form or continue with the Extraordinary Form. The little paperback hand missal for the Extraordinary form that I have (which is also available at the church) has only the Ordinary of the Mass but not the Propers. I'm pondering purchasing a hand missal which would have the Ordinary, the Propers, and perhaps some explanatory material which would help me understand, appreciate, and participate in this form of the Mass more fully.

On the other hand, perhaps the key to participating in the EF is not so much reading and following along and understanding as it is watching and listening and praying. A few weeks ago, I was privileged to attend the first Mass of Thanksgiving celebrated by Father Jason Christian, the Diocese of Charlotte's newest priest. Father Christian chose to celebrate a Solemn High Mass in the Extraordinary Form, assisted by several brother priests and numerous acolytes, servers, singers, and musicians, in addition to the schola cantorum of the parish. It was glorious to hear Gregorian Chant and sacred polyphony in their proper context, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, but I was frustrated by my inability to follow the liturgy because so many of the prayers of the priests and servers are said in a low, inaudible voice. Then it occurred to me that perhaps what I should do is not read along but watch, listen, pray, and enter into the liturgy that way.

I'd like to suggest that we do a similar thing when we watch a play or a movie. If I were going to see a performance of Othello, for example (my favorite Shakespeare play), I probably wouldn't take along a paperback copy of the script and read along with the actors as they deliver each line. If I did that, I'd miss the action on stage and miss the drama and excitement of the theatrical experience as the actors brought the story to life. Instead, I would probably reread the story beforehand so that I would know what to expect from the plot, thus freeing myself to watch the story unfold on stage, react, and relate to the characters.

I'm just thinking out loud here, but perhaps, in a similar way, we can view the Extraordinary Form as the greatest and highest kind of liturgical theater. By this I DO NOT mean that it is merely a show put on for our entertainment in the manner of a Broadway musical. I mean that it is a sacred drama whose story we already know: the re-presentation of Christ's sacrifice of his Body and Blood on the Cross for the salvation of the world. We can read the "script" or the story for this drama any time we wish by opening and reading the words in our missal. By attending Mass, praying, watching, and listening attentively, however, we can see and react as the "actors" in this drama, the priest, deacons, and servers, bring the story to life liturgically.

The Wright Stuff

A friend of mine posted this yesterday on Facebook, and I thought it was so awesome I just had to re-post it here. Jeffrey Wright is a science teacher at Louisville Male High School in Louisville, KY, and he's also my new hero. Not only is he a dedicated teacher who strives to make learning science fun and interesting and challenging for his students; not only is he an incredibly compassionate man who shows real personal interest and concern for his students; but he's also the father of a young son with a rare disability and a long list of special needs; AND his Catholic faith and his relationship with God give him the energy and strength to keep going. Here's his story as reported by the New York Times:



People like this give me hope for the future of our world. God bless you and your family, Mr. Wright.

And While You're Praying . . .

Could you spare a prayer for me, your humble blog host? I have been hampered for several weeks now (yes, weeks) by a stubborn and persistent infection that leaves me feeling distinctly yucky and sub-par most of the time. I have been through almost three rounds of antibiotics and feel reasonably decent while I'm taking them, but as soon as I finish a round, the symptoms return within a day or two. All sorts of horror stories about over-prescribed antibiotics, antibiotic-resistant bacteria and "super bugs" are floating around my brain and making me nervous. Now my doctor wants to do tests to get a better idea of what's going on, which is a good thing, I suppose, but that doesn't mean I'm looking forward to it. Anyway, in your charity, dear friends, please remember me. Thank you.

Please Pray for Thomas Peters

Dear friends and blog readers, in your charity please pray for Thomas Peters, author of the former American Papist blog that's now part of the CatholicVote.org website. Thomas was critically injured in a swimming accident earlier this week. I don't know Thomas personally, but he is a good friend of my Facebook friend William "Billy Newton, author of Blog of the Courtier. By all accounts, Thomas is a fine and dedicated young Catholic who has done much good work writing and speaking on behalf of the Church. Such is the power of  the internet and social media that we can feel a personal connection to people we have never met. Thomas's friends and family have set up the Thomas Peters Recovery blog to keep friends, family, and well-wishers posted on Thomas's condition. There are signs that he is making progress, but no doubt his recovery will be long and difficult. What makes this situation especially tragic is that Thomas was married just a few short weeks ago. Please pray for his family and especially for his wife Natalie, that they receive all the graces they will surely need to cope with this unexpected trial.

Housecleaning

So, you may have noticed a new look for the blog recently. It occurred to me that since I'm living in a new home in real life, my virtual home in cyberspace might be ready for a makeover too. I added Blogger's Blog List Gadget that will alert me when a blog I'm following has a new post up, and I deleted some blogs that haven't been updated in a year or more. For the first time in a long while, I've added some new Catholic blogs to the blogroll. I'm going through a similar updating process with comics-related blogs. I'm also monkeying around with the template trying to decide on a look with a little more pizzazz. Please bear with me while I get everything sorted out around here, and please use use the comment boxes to let me know how you like the new look. Thanks!

Dicas Latinae? Pars secunda (Do you speak Latin? Second part)

Dicas Latinae? (Do you speak Latin?) Fortasse (Maybe).

In the previous post, I described (at somewhat greater length than I anticipated) how I became interested in and curious about what is variously called the Tridentine Rite, the Traditional Latin Mass, or the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite. Now I'd like  to tell you a little bit about my first impressions about my first ever participation in this form of the Mass last Sunday at a local parish. This was an authorized celebration of the Latin form of the Mass promulgated in the 1962 Missal and in accordance with Pope Benedict XVI's motu proprio Summorum pontificum. This was not another form of the Latin Mass offered by the Society of St. Pius X (SSPX) or other schismatic groups.

I was almost an hour early for this liturgy because I had to use the city of Charlotte's Special Transportation Service (STS) to get there and had to be ready on their schedule. Another Mass in the Ordinary Form (English) was still going on, so while I waited for this Mass to end, I chatted with some other people who were already starting to gather outside. When the first Mass ended, I also spoke with some of the people attending it. To a person, they all spoke very highly of the church's pastor and complimented him and the church's staff for their efforts to celebrate truly beautiful and reverent liturgies. I spoke with the priest himself who assured me that "We try to do things a little differently here." Then we went inside.

I was immediately struck by the physical appearance of the church where this Mass was being celebrated. I don't know anything about architecture, but if I had to take a stab at describing the architectural style, I would call it neoclassical, rather than modernist; if by "neoclassical" one means balanced and well-proportioned and and by "modernist" one means ugly and full of bizarre shapes and strange angles, as with some newer Catholic churches I have visited. I would describe the interior as very traditional and very much what one might expect the interior of an older Catholic church to look like: a choir loft and a large marble baptismal font in the rear, pews of dark wood, large stained glass windows, large statues of the saints and Stations of the Cross prominently displayed on the walls, crucifix of dark wood, and a large, ornate, centrally positioned Tabernacle, prominently on display. This is in marked contrast to some more recently built churches I have visited where it seemed one needed a microscope to find the Stations of the Cross and a compass and a guide dog to find the Tabernacle. At this tradition-friendly parish there was also a large, old-fashioned elaborately carved wooden ambo that the celebrant had to reach by climbing up steps. I had only seen ambos like these in photographs of older European churches and cathedrals. (I wasn't trying to be flippant, but in my head I immediately dubbed this the "Ambo What Am.") If I had to choose a parish solely on the basis of aesthetics or appearance, I would choose this parish in a heartbeat.

Another thing that struck me was the pervasive (and I must say refreshing) atmosphere of quiet. Outside, on the grounds of the church and in the vestibule parishioners were talking with their friends as one might before or after any Mass, but once one went inside the sanctuary there was  an air of quiet, contemplation, and anticipation. Something special was about to happen. People talked in whispers, if at all. Mass-goers trickled in by twos and threes, until, I would guess, the church was about half full. Critics of the Latin Mass frequently like to portray its supporters and defenders as cranks, malcontents, and old fogeys who are hopelessly nostalgic for the nonexistent "good ol' days;" but from what I could see at this Mass, there was a wide range of ages in attendance, from families with young children to retirees and the elderly. Women are still strongly encouraged (but not required) to wear a head covering during the celebration of this form of the Mass, and there are few things cuter in this world than the sight of a girl under six wearing a chapel veil.

Mass began with the ringing of a bell, the chanting of an entrance antiphon, and a procession up the center aisle, much like in the Ordinary Form. So far so good. I knew the entire liturgy, except for the homily, and perhaps the readings, would be in Latin (Duh!) I knew the priest would stand ad orientam (literally, "to the East," facing the direction from which the sun rises, and symbolically the direction from which the Son of God rose on Easter morning. I knew the servers would answer on behalf of the congregation. What I perhaps knew but did not fully realize, was that I would not be able to hear what the priest and servers said. I suppose that without thinking about it, I had come expecting that the priest and servers would chant the prayers and responses in a voice loud enough to be audible, and I could follow along in my paperback missal which has the Latin text on the left hand page and the English on the right. This was not the case. Most of the prayers and responses were inaudible to me, and I presume to the rest of the congregation, except perhaps the people sitting right up front. This made it extremely difficult for me to follow the prayers of the Mass, and I eventually gave up trying and simply let myself experience it.

The only times I could really hear something were when the priest would turn to the congregation and chant Oremus (let us pray) followed by a prayer; Dominus vobiscum (the Lord be with you); or  Ite missa est (the Mass is ended). In the latter two cases, I did know that the proper responses were et cum spiritu tuo (and with your spirit) and Deo gratias (Thanks be to God) respectively. Chants and hymns, delivered by a very fine schola cantorum, floated out of the choir loft at the appropriate points in the liturgy, seemingly as if by magic (or perhaps I should say as if delivered by invisible angels). I suddenly realized the advantages of this arrangement over the usual practice in newer churches of having musicians and choir members at the front of the church. With a choir loft at the back, Mass-goers can hear and appreciate the music of the liturgy without being distracted by seeing musicians and choir members bustling about with instruments and hymnals and whatnot.

The Mass itself was followed by more prayers and the singing of the Salve Regina (Hail, Holy Queen), which happens to be one of the few Latin hymns I know. I joined in and later received a couple of compliments on my voice, which was flattering. Still trying to process this brand new experience, I introduced myself and shared my first impressions with my fellow Mass-goers. I quickly noticed that many defenders of the Latin Mass are passionate and almost fanatical about their favorite subject. One very earnest, well-meaning gentleman was prepared to tell me at great length and in great detail why the Mass in Latin was better than the Mass in English. When he began to mutter darkly about how "they" didn't want the Church to celebrate the Mass in Latin, I gently cut him off, fearing I was in for a paranoid rant.

Which brings me to the dark side of the Traditionalist movement. I've noticed when visiting Traditionalist websites and reading the comments of self-identified Traditionalists on Catholic blogs I read, that there are very unhealthy, uncharitable, and un-Christian strains of pride, arrogance, and paranoia running through much Traditionalist rhetoric. It is one thing to say that you wish to preserve and perpetuate the older traditions, devotions and forms of worship in the Catholic Church because they are ancient, venerable, beautiful, meaningful and great aids to holiness. There you have my sympathy. It is one thing to acknowledge and point out that since the reforms of the liturgy in the 1960s and '70s, on occasion there have been gross liturgical abuses committed in the name of "the spirit of Vatican II," or some other such foolishness. There you also have my sympathy.

It is quite another thing to let that zeal for the ancient traditions of the Church harden or transform into pride and arrogance and come to believe that YOU and and YOUR PARTICULAR GROUP of Catholics are the only REAL Catholics because YOU and YOUR GROUP are the only ones who celebrate Mass "the right way" (i. e. your group's way, as opposed to the way defined by the Universal Church—either the Ordinary Form or the Extraordinary Form set forth in the 1962 Missal). It is another thing entirely to heap scorn and contempt on your fellow Catholics who might not share your zeal and affection for the Traditional Latin Mass, and to insinuate or claim outright that  they are not really Catholics because of it.

Finally, it is completely unacceptable to claim that any Pope who promulgates or accepts the reformed, vernacular liturgy is somehow not the real Pope, as the "sedevacantists" do. Either the Catholic Church was founded by Jesus Christ and built upon the Rock of Peter, or it is not. Either the man chosen by the College of Cardinals is the legitimate successor of Peter or he is not. If the Catholic Church is the Church of Jesus Christ, and the Pope is the successor of Peter, than it is the radical Traditionalist and sedevacantist who has strayed from the truth, not vice versa. If the Catholic Church is not the church founded by Christ and built upon Peter and his successors, I submit that the radical traditionalists, who claim to love the Church so much, are calling Jesus Christ, the founder and head of the Church, a liar.

So much for my own rant. Will I go back? I don't know. Everyone I talked to acknowledged that the Extraordinary Form takes some getting used to, and may take a while to learn to appreciate. They urged me to keep coming back and keep giving it a try. When I pointed out that most of the prayers are inaudible, one gentleman tried to persuade me that this is actually an advantage. One can either follow along in the missal or pray silently on one's own knowing that the sacrifice of Christ is being re-presented, he said.

We'll see. I want real truth. I want real beauty. I want real transcendence. I believe these things can be found in the Catholic Church, and I believe they can be found in the Mass. It just might take some work to find them.

Dicas Latinae? Prima pars. (Do you speak Latin? First part)

Dicas Latinae? (Do you speak Latin?) Fortasse. (Maybe).

Yesterday, I attended my first ever Mass in the Extraordinary Form (aka Traditional Latin Mass, Tridentine Mass) at a parish here in Charlotte and lived to tell the tale. It was new. It was . . . different.

First, a few words of explanation.  I was born in 1963, smack dab in the middle of the Second Vatican Council, and by the time I was coming along, the reforms of the liturgy had been completely implemented and the Mass was entirely in English with the priest facing the people (versus populo, I believe it's called) and the liturgy structured as a dialogue between the priest and the people. I knew, of course, that there was an older Latin form of the Mass, but I didn't really know much about it. When I began blogging on Catholic topics in 2005, I quickly noticed that there seemed to be no faster or better way to start a virtual fistfight among Catholics on the internet than to venture an opinion, pro or con (See there, I used Latin!), on the Latin Mass.

Advocates said it was beautiful, mystical, ancient, and holy, and the de facto (See there, I used Latin again) suppression of the Latin Mass in favor of Mass in the vernacular after Vatican II was one of the worst things to ever happen to the Church. The virtual disappearance of the Latin Mass after Vatican II was alleged to be the root cause of plummeting Mass attendance and nosediving priestly vocations. (I always thought this was an example of the post hoc, ergo propter hoc fallacy, but no matter). Why on earth did the Church decide to change? Some advocates for the traditional Latin Mass claim that Dark Sinister Liberal Forces [TM] both inside and outside the Church, ranging from closet Protestants to Freemasons and neopagans deliberately suppressed the older form of the Mass and implemented their version of the liturgy for the purpose of destroying the Church. Some of these same advocates denounce even the motu proprio of Pope Benedict XVI, Summorum pontificum, authorizing a wider use of the Latin Mass in the 1962 Missal, as a mere piece of camouflage designed to draw gullible traditionalists into a carefully concealed and orchestrated modernist agenda.They claim that the Mass promulgated in the 1962 Missal is a "bastardized" form of the authentic Traditional Latin Mass.

Critics of the Latin Mass, on the other hand, usually argue that this form of the Mass is incomprehensible, in a language most people cannot understand or even hear, because the priest says most of the prayers with his back to the congregation and in a low, even inaudible voice. The people cannot see what takes place on the altar. Furthermore, critics claim, this Mass is elitist and exclusive because the altar boys (girls and women are not permitted to serve on the altar in the Extraordinary Form) answer on behalf of the congregation. The people are not permitted to speak for themselves except at certain times and are reduced to passive spectators.

For most of my life as a Catholic I would have put myself squarely in the modernist and contemporary camp. I took courses in church history in college and loved the sound of Latin words and phrases, but I couldn't imagine not being able to hear, understand, and verbally pray the prayers of the Mass. I couldn't imagine not being able to see what took place on the altar. I loved the music of the St. Louis Jesuits and the "folk Mass" movement of the 1960s and '70s.  I had a moment of revelation, however, when I first heard——really heard——sacred polyphonic music, first on a public radio classical music show, and then via Limewire and iTunes. I can recall stopping what I was doing just to listen, absolutely transfixed by the beauty of the blended voices. When I realized this was music for the liturgy, I was astounded. Why had I not heard this before? Why had every Catholic not heard this before? I wanted to hear more. After listening to the music of Tallis, Byrd, Palestrina, and Victoria, I concluded that the "folk" music I had loved so much when I was younger now seemed insufferably shallow and cheesy by comparison. More recent compositions, that sounded as if they belonged at a Celine Dion concert, and "praise and worship" style songs played on keyboards, electric guitars and (shudder) drums were even worse. When I realized that all this glorious music I had come to love was composed for the older form of the Mass, I concluded this older form, so often derided, disparaged, and dismissed, must have something going for it.

I began to study and try to learn more. I learned that the Second Vatican Council did not forbid the Latin Mass. Rather, it permitted the Mass in the vernacular. I learned that in the older form of the Mass, the priest does not stand "with his back to the congregation."  He stands facing the same direction as the people. Since the priest offers the Mass before God on behalf of the people, it makes perfect sense that he would face the same direction they do. I ordered a paperback Latin-English missal and a copy of Let's Read Latin, a short introductory course in ecclesiastical Latin created by the late Ralph McInerny, author of the Father Dowling novels. I set out trying to learn Church Latin, but it's tougher than it looks, and I couldn't keep up my enthusiasm when I knew that there wasn't a a parish near me that offered the Latin Mass . . .

Until I came to Charlotte, that is. Facebook friend Katrina Fernandez, author of The Crescat blog, recommended I try her parish, which is very tradition-friendly. When I saw that the parish regularly offered Mass in the Extraordinary Form, I decided to go and see what all the fuss was about. In my next post, I'll tell you what I found.

Greetings from Charlotte!

Greetings from the new worldwide, international headquarters of "It's All Straw," beautiful Charlotte, North Carolina!

You may remember from my last post, gentle reader (if I have any readers left), that I was just days away from moving to the Queen City. The great day did indeed arrive, and the move went off largely without a hitch. With the help of brothers, a sister, a sister-in-law, and a horse trailer, I moved into my new new abode, which is positively palatial compared to my old digs. I sat in the living room in astonishment, just watching everyone else bustle in and out with boxes, bags, furniture, and whatnot, and murmuring, "Oh. My. God." every few minutes. It seemed too wonderful to be real. The condominium complex where I live is beautifully maintained, and my new neighbors have been kind and welcoming. There are still days I find myself thinking, "Wow! I get to live here!"

 The rooms are open and airy with large windows to let in plenty of sunlight, which is a real mood booster. I have a sun room, and my sister says she has a case of sun room envy. For the first time in my life, I have a garage! (I don't have a car, but I have a garage). There is some discussion among my brothers as to the possibility of turning this space into some sort of man cave. Stay tuned for further developments.

Navigating the health care and social service bureaucracy took longer than I would have liked, but I now have an attendant/aide to help me for a few hours every weekday with what I call the three H's: Health, Hygiene, and Housekeeping. I don't need as much help as some other people with disabilities I know, but having a helping hand with certain tasks just makes life a whole lot easier. I have a city bus pass and a transit ID, and I'm learning how to use the city's public transit system to get where I want and need to go. Now it's time to develop a daily routine. Little by little I'm beginning to feel at home.

I've visited a couple of different parishes in the greater Charlotte area, looking for a spiritual home. For the first time in my life I have a real choice of parishes to attend. When I made contact with one parish to ask about transportation to Mass, I got a call back from the president of the parish's praesidium of the Legion of Mary. I was very active in the Legion in my old parish in South Carolina, so a chance to chat with a fellow Legionary was a little taste of home. Next week, I think I'd like to visit the local parish that celebrates Mass in the Extraordinary Form (aka the Tridentine Rite or the Traditional Latin Mass). Although I've come to love sacred polyphony and appreciate Gregorian Chant, I've never actually attended a Traditional Latin Mass and would really like to have the experience. The older I get, the friendlier I am becoming to tradition.

Even as I'm sitting here thinking about exploring and recovering the Catholic Church's past, I'm excited about the future. Every day feels like a bit of an adventure with new possibilities. As I told a friend recently, I feel a bit like the country mouse from Aesop's fables, suddenly whisked away from a pokey, pedestrian small town to the big, bustling city with all its delights (and frustrations). Unlike the mouse in the fable, however, I don't think I'll be headed back to the country any time soon. The city is beginning to feel like just the right place for me.

Relocation

After the home invasion I described in the previous post, my family and I were very concerned about my physical safety. I didn't really want to stay in a place where my life could be at risk, and my family certainly didn't want me to be here. What to do?

My brother Allen, God Bless Him, boldly stepped up with a solution. He took out a loan to buy a condo unit in Charlotte, NC that has already been modified to accommodate a person with a disability. His offer to buy the property was immediately accepted, and the pre-move planning and preparations have gone remarkably well and smoothly, to me a sure sign of God's providence at work. Now only a few days remain before The Big Move. My old apartment is littered with bags, boxes, and whatnot. I don't know how we will get it all into the truck and trailer we'll be using, but I guess we'll figure something out. I suspect it will look something like this:

I'm excited, nervous, and a little sad to be leaving the people and the community that I've lived in for nearly a dozen years, but it's plainly time to go. The community where I'm living now has been dying a slow and painful death for years, and by moving to Charlotte, I'll be closer to family and a new resident of one of the fastest growing metropolitan areas in the country with better housing, better medical care, better transportation, better cultural opportunities, and overall better quality of life. Change and striking out into the unknown can be scary, but I'm choosing to look upon this experience as an adventure. As Bilbo Baggins says in The Lord of the Rings, "I'm quite ready for another adventure." See you on the other side!

Invasion

"St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle"

Invasions, relocations, and resignations, oh my! I go away from this blog for maybe a month . . . okay, more like six weeks or so, and what happens? I become the victim of a violent crime, I decide to move, and the pope resigns. Wow! I'm reasonably sure the first two events had nothing to do with the third.

OK, so maybe that was a trifle flippant for an opening, but a lot has been going on around here, and not all of it good. I didn't know how to begin.

On the evening of January 12, I became a victim of a violent crime—a home invasion to be precise. A little before 8 pm, I heard a loud and insistent knocking at the door. Despite my protestations that I was coming to answer it, the knocking continued. I opened the door without thinking, and there before me stood a young African-American man I had never seen before. He was dressed all in black and wearing a Balaclava style cap that has a hole for the face and a mask that can be pulled up to shield the face against the cold. He made a pretense of asking if this was “Billy’s” apartment, and when I told him repeatedly that it wasn't, and when I told him I lived here, he pulled a gun and forced his way in. He asked me repeatedly for cash, drugs, and jewelry, and I told him repeatedly that I didn't have any of those things in the house. I told him that he was welcome to whatever else he wanted—computer, stereo, TV, wallet, etc.

He took my cell phone and my debit/ATM card and demanded the PIN number, which I gave him. He gave the card to his partner outside who took it to the wrong bank. The second guy came back a few minutes later without any money. The first guy then gagged me with socks and tied me up with cords and duct tape I had in the house and then drove me into the bathroom in my electric wheelchair. He said his buddy was waiting in the living room, and if I made any move to escape or call for help, the buddy would come and shoot me. The first guy said he would go “to the store” and try to use my card. If I gave him a false PIN number, he said he would kill me. I waited for what seemed like an eternity, but I didn't hear anything from the living room, so I gambled that either there was no second guy in the living room, or if there was, he would come and shoot me and my life would be over. I told Jesus and Mary that I was very sorry for any bad thing I had ever done, and that if my life ended that night I hoped they’d cut me some slack and let me into heaven. :) 

I wriggled until I got the gag loose and wriggled some more until I was able to reach the lifeline beeper around my neck. I hit the beeper and the alarm sounded and a few seconds later, an operator came on the line. I had to yell three times before I could make the person understand that I was being robbed. The odd thing was, I’ll swear the robber came back at this point and said something like, “How could you do me like that, man? I could only go to one bank,” and left. The operator called the cops, who arrived a few minutes later, asked me many questions, and tried to gather fingerprint and DNA evidence. I spent the night with friends of mine who are gun owners and know how to use them. I did not want to be alone. The next day I called my bank and reported the card stolen.

Since then, my brother Allen, who is a compliance officer at a credit union and knowledgeable about bank fraud, has visited me. He and I went online and found the addresses of the ATMs where the thief or thieves stopped and tried to get cash. They stopped at ATMs in local convenience stores between Marion, where I live, and Mullins, another small community about 7 miles from here. I turned this information over to the police, who followed up on it. I've since been informed that the owner of one of the convenience stores was able to identify one of the suspects from security camera footage at the ATM. I've also been told by the police that this suspect is wanted on a previous parole violation and is now believed to be in Columbia, the state capital. I hope this means that warrants and bulletins for this man are out all over the state, and that any cop he encounters will know to pick him up. The detective investigating my case has promised to call me when an arrest is made. I'm still waiting.

This was the most terrifying experience of my life. The guy threatened to kill me several times, and for a few days afterward I had a small bump on my forehead where he tapped me with his gun to prove he was serious. For a day or two after the incident, every time the phone rang or my e-mail jingled I nearly jumped out of my skin. My front door is double locked, and I will not open it unless I know who’s on the other side.

Despite this ordeal, I believe God was very good to me during the robbery and its aftermath. People have complimented me on my courage and presence of mind, but I attribute my survival solely to the Grace of God and the intercession of our Blessed Mother. Although I'm still trying to process what happened and still thinking about the incident more than I would like, I have thus far been spared flashbacks, nightmares, or any other signs of post-traumatic stress. I have made a point  of praying for my attacker. Although there have been moments I've fantasized about revenge or what I might have done if I'd been an action movie hero armed with a gun myself, I don't really hate this person. I pity him. How could one human being become so morally and spiritually warped that he would think assaulting a middle-aged white dude in a wheelchair and stealing a measly few hundred bucks and a cell phone was a good idea?

I want this man brought to justice under the law, but I also pray he will have the opportunity to realize what he has done, repent of it, and turn his life around. Otherwise, there is a good chance he will wind up dying a violent death, either at the hands of the police or some other bigger, meaner thug with a bigger and meaner gun than he has, and with even less regard for human life. If that happens, he will face a justice more severe than anything a human court can dish out.

Auld Lang Syne x3!

For those of you who'll be ringing in the New Year at midnight tonight (Please don't drink too much, or if you do, please don't drink and drive), here's the version of "Auld Lang Syne" that you're most likely to hear tonight, as performed by Guy Lombardo and his Royal Canadians:



I don't know about you, but that melody and arrangement have always seemed way too sappy and schmaltzy for my taste. Did you know that there are at least two other melodies to which the song can be sung? (Both of which sound better to my ears than the previous one). The original words are in Scots dialect and were collected or composed, at least in part, by the Scottish poet Robert Burns (1759-1796) for a compilation of Scottish folk music called The Scots Musical Museum. Quoth Wikipedia:

Robert Burns sent a copy of the original song to the Scots Musical Museum with the remark, "The following song, an old song, of the olden times, and which has never been in print, nor even in manuscript until I took it down from an old man." Some of the lyrics were indeed "collected" rather than composed by the poet; the ballad "Old Long Syne" printed in 1711 by James Watson shows considerable similarity in the first verse and the chorus to Burns' later poem, and is almost certainly derived from the same "old song".
Should Old Acquaintance be forgot,
and never thought upon;
The flames of Love extinguished,
and fully past and gone:
Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold,
that loving Breast of thine;
That thou canst never once reflect
On Old long syne.
CHORUS:
On Old long syne my Jo,
On Old long syne,
That thou canst never once reflect,
On Old long syne.
It is a fair supposition to attribute the rest of the poem to Burns himself.
There is some doubt as to whether the melody used today is the same one Burns originally intended, but it is widely used in Scotland and in the rest of the world.

Here is an alternate version of the song, with a different melody, performed by the Scottish folk group The Tannahill Weavers:



Here is yet another version of the song with another melody, as sung by the Scottish singer Madelaine Cave and illustrated by some lovely Scottish landscapes:



Most people sing this song without having the slightest idea what it is really about. It is in reality a conversation between old friends (or perhaps old lovers, since the expression, "My Jo," is a term of endearment similar to "my love" or "my darling") reflecting on how much they have been through together. Circumstances have been difficult, and they have been separated, but they survived, thanks to their shared affection, shared experiences, and shared memories. They'll survive whatever the future may hold thanks to that same bond of affection and (being Scots) the occasional good stiff drink! Loosely translated from Scots, the chorus says, "We'll take a cup of kindness yet, for old times sake." A good thought to remember as we bid farewell to 2012 and say hello to 2013, yes?

Whichever of the three versions you prefer, I wish you, my readers and friends, the very best for the remainder of this Christmas season and for the new year 2013. To use another Scots expression, "Lang may yer lum reek," (literally, "Long may your chimney smoke," i.e, Long life to you!)

Skyfall: A Catholic Movie?

Here's Father Robert Barron, host of the popular "Word on Fire" YouTube video series with a commentary on the surprising Catholic elements and connections in the new James Bond movie Skyfall. Caution: Includes spoilers.



Here's the trailer for Skyfall.

Eleven Years and One Day Ago . . .

Yes, I know I'm a day late commemorating 9/11. But I didn't know if I could bring myself to remember that horrible day. I thought about commemorating the anniversary yesterday, but somehow I just couldn't . Then Thomas McEntee, the host of GeneaBloggers, suggested that all the members of that blog ring should write a commemorative post. Perhaps it will do me good. Here goes mine:

As genealogists, we all know that history is important; but so often we tend to focus on history on a small scale. What happened in our family? Our town? Our county? The doings of the great and powerful, events on the world stage that get written up in history books, sometimes seem to be of interest only insofar as they affect our ancestors. There are other times, however, when history in the largest sense reaches out and affects everyone of us. We can recall exactly where we were and exactly what we were doing when we heard that some great and terrible event had occurred. For people of my parents' generation, it was the bombing of Pearl Harbor in 1941; for my older brothers and sisters, it's probably the assassinations of John and Robert Kennedy in the 1960s; for me, it's 9/11.

On September 11, 2001, I had just gotten to work at my still new job as the Technical Services Librarian (cataloger) for a small county-run public library system in rural South Carolina. The weather was sunny and mild, much like it is today. At first, there was absolutely no hint that anything was wrong.

I had just stepped into our tiny break room to pour myself a cup of coffee before beginning the day's cataloging when the phone rang. My boss Salley, the library director, was calling from her home in the nearest city, about 45 minutes away, to tell Margaret, her administrative assistant, that a plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center in New York. It was only later that I learned that Salley had a daughter who was living and working in New York and trying to make it as an actress. No wonder it was so personal to her.

At first I thought this was perhaps just a tragic accident; perhaps the pilot of a small plane had become lost or disoriented or had suffered some catastrophic instrument failure. As Margaret rushed into the break room to turn on the TV and details of the crash began to emerge, it became clear that this was no accident. This was a large commercial jetliner. Minutes later came the second crash. As I watched in horror and disbelief, my mind reeling from the implications of the first two collisions, there came the news that a third plane had crashed into the Pentagon.

I tried to stay calm and go about my daily routine, but it didn't do much good. My concentration was gone. I think I managed to catalog only two books that day. Every few minutes I would stop and sneak back into the break room trying to get more news. When I heard that the authorities had grounded all air traffic and effectively sealed off New York and Washington, D. C., I e-mailed two dear friends of mine who live in the greater Washington area to make sure they were all right. One of them, a professor at Gallaudet University, a school that serves the deaf, wrote back, "Please pray for our students. Many of them are scared and don't understand what's happening." They were not alone in that feeling. I e-mailed my nephew who is a federal employee. Suddenly I couldn't remember if he was still an Army reservist, and I was afraid for him. He was no longer in the Army reserves, but much later he was eventually deployed to Iraq for several months without incident.

I also e-mailed my immediate predecessor in the cataloger's job, who had moved on to another library.  I still felt like a rookie cataloger at the time, and I would frequently ask Melissa's advice on how to catalog a troublesome item. Our e-mail conversation naturally came around to the events of the day. "It's so horrible you can scarcely believe it's real," I wrote.

At lunchtime everyone piled into the break room, still glued to the TV. The library director, my boss, had asked me to dress professionally for work and wear a dress shirt and tie each day. That day I wore a light blue shirt and what I thought was a handsome copper-colored tie. I made the mistake of bringing a small tin of ravioli for lunch that day, and I was so preoccupied by the events on TV as I ate that I paid no attention as the ravioli spilled onto my tie. Every time I wore the tie after that, I managed to spill something on it.The tie eventually became so stained and discolored from repeated spills and dry cleanings that I eventually threw it away. Cursed, it seems, by a bad beginning, the tie came to a bad end.

I can remember pacing up and down in the staff room and murmuring, "This is war," when I should have been cataloging. Yes, you can pace, even in an electric wheelchair. That night I called my parents. "I just wanted to hear your voices and tell you that I love you," I said.

In the days after I can remember feeling the urge to sing patriotic songs such as the national anthem, "America the Beautiful," and "God Bless America," while fighting back tears as I sang. My country, my home, had been attacked as it never had before in my lifetime.

We are still living with the results and the aftermath of these attacks. What their ultimate results will be, no one can say. But we should never forget what happened that day.

"The Closer" Closes

A couple of weeks ago what I think is the best show on television aired its last original episode.

The Closer, starring Kyra Sedgwick as Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson of the Los Angeles Police Department's Major Crimes Division, ended its network run on August 13 after seven seasons as a limited run summer series on the TNT cable channel—— and I'm already missin' me some Brenda Leigh.

Perhaps from what I've already written, or if you've seen the show yourself, you can guess why I love The Closer so much. Kyra Sedgwick is absolutely spot-on in her portrayal of Brenda Leigh Johnson, a former interrogator for the CIA and former Chief of Detectives for the Atlanta Police who finds herself in the strange new world of L. A. Who would've thought that a nice Jewish girl from New York City could so perfectly adopt the persona of a li'l ol' Southern girl from Atlanta who turns out to be a "steel magnolia," far tougher than she looks? One of my pet peeves as a native Southerner and a lifelong lover of movies and TV is the way that Northern actors frequently overplay and caricature Southern characters. They exaggerate a Southern accent to a ridiculous, unrecognizable degree and present their characters as buffoons, psychopaths, religious zealots, or some combination of all three.

As played by Kyra Sedgwick, however, Brenda Leigh Johnson is none of these. She is tough, passionate, driven, intensely ambitious, yet also capable of great tenderness and vulnerability, despite the cruelty, brutality, and deceit she sees as part of her job. Kyra Sedgwick nails not only a Southern accent (you'd swear she was from Marietta, a suburb of Atlanta), but the whole Southern way of being, if you will. Brenda is tough as nails at work but otherwise constantly afraid of giving offense, and terrified of offending her parents, especially her sometimes overbearing father. The subtle, ironic twist she can give the phrase, "Thank you," or "Thank you so much," (which often implies just the opposite of what it says) has become the show's tagline. For those of you who haven't seen the show, here's the backstory:

After she is accused of misconduct and forced to resign from the Atlanta Police (but later cleared by an ethics inquiry), Brenda Leigh Johnson is approached by her former boss and sometime lover, Will Pope, who is now an Assistant Chief with the LAPD. He offers her the rank of Deputy Chief and command of an elite squad of detectives, at first called Priority Homicide and later Major Crimes. They will investigate especially sensitive, high profile murder cases that will reflect badly on the LAPD if they are not handled correctly and solved quickly. Chief Johnson acquires the nickname "The Closer" because of her unique talent for eliciting confessions from suspects during interrogation———confessions that close cases.

At first her fellow officers and even the detectives under her command dismiss her as a hick and a hayseed, or even worse, an interloper and a bimbo who got her job by sleeping with the boss. Over the course of the series, however, she wins the respect and loyalty of her squad and even the grudging admiration of her critics in the department as she proves she is a very good cop who knows what she is doing.

She's not perfect, however, either personally or professionally. At the end of Season Six, she makes a highly questionable decision regarding the release of a murder suspect that costs the man his life and nearly ends her career. In the series finale, she essentially sacrifices her career to trap the one criminal who has eluded her because she knows he's guilty but can't prove it. She's flawed, vulnerable, and immensely engaging and sympathetic right up to the end, which is a testament to the show's fine writing.

Thus far I've focused on Kyra Sedgwick's importance to the show as star and executive producer, but of course the writers and directors also deserve major credit for the show's success. The stories are compelling, full of twists and turns and tangled ethical dilemmas that leave the audience with something to think about long after the episode is over. The supporting cast is excellent; each detective is well-drawn, a fully realized personality. Some episodes move Chief Johnson somewhat into the background and allow the spotlight to fall on one of the detectives; other episodes have a lighter tone and allow the cast to show off their considerable comedic talents.

If you haven't seen the show, do yourself a favor and watch it now. All seven seasons are available on DVD for sale or rental, and perhaps even for digital download for you to enjoy. If you did, I'm sure Brenda would "Thank yew!"