In the Catholic Church, the calendar is full of Holy Days of Obligation – special occasion days on which the faithful are required to attend church.
I decided that the Firepants Family – or, at the very least, Mrs. Cap’n Firepants – needed a Whole Day of No Obligation. Our summer has been a daily deluge of mandatory tasks, and I wanted one day before I return to work next Monday that requires nothing of me.
Yesterday was my day. Our daughter, Dimples, was a willing participant – perfectly happy to lounge around all day reading two books I bought yesterday and playing on her iPad. I slept late, finished off one of my library books, made hotdogs for lunch, read Oprah magazine, and took a nap.
I did write this blog post. But I didn’t publish it. Lately, I’ve been feeling obligated to post every day. So, I had to liberate myself by not posting. Which was very hard – because I’ve posted every single day since last August 2nd. This means my day of No Obligation was not without some sacrifice – giving it a somewhat Catholic twist despite my attempts to the contrary.
I’m thinking of publishing a calendar with mandatory Whole Days of No Obligation embedded into each month. But, I guess that being Obligated to spend a day of Not Being Obligated kind of defeats the purpose.
It would be a really cool calendar, though, with pictures of our dog, Wonderbutt, showing complete disregard for any kind of obligations with absolutely no sign of guilt whatsoever.
I’m pretty sure this dog is not Catholic.
I am in deep Bantha Fodder. Take a look at this photo of my recent referrers and tell me what you see.
O.K. Besides the Edward Hotspur kitchen sex thing. I have no idea what that’s about. But thanks for the reference, Hotspur. I think.
Anyway, notice anything related to, uh, potentially powerful people who, I don’t know – Control the FORCE?
Yep. The Temple of the Jedi Order.
Notice that the link says, “Have you seen this?” If you click on the link because you are somewhat curious and big-time paranoid, like I am, then you will find this:
Oh, Bantha Fodder! I’m not even allowed to see it! Kunena AND THE FORCE do not give me access to this page. I knew I should have actually joined the order instead of just casually entertaining the idea and BLOGGING ABOUT IT! Now, they are talking about me in a secret forum. What are they saying? Are they laughing at my pitiful attempt at humor? Or are they discussing how to dispose of me?
O.K. Allow me to explain myself, Oh Mighty Wise Jedi Temple People. I was not making fun of you. I actually think that your Order makes a heckuva lot more sense than the “order” into which I was baptized – the Catholic Church. I was, if you really read my post carefully, making fun of them, not you.*
Also, I want you to know that, really, only about 5 people read my blog per day. So, I obviously have very little impact on the world, meaning that there is no need to be concerned about the effect of my measly musings.
I think you might be better served by taking a look at Edward Hotspur’s blog, I mean, kitchen sex must violate one of the tenets of your order. You should really talk to that guy about his attempts to weaken the force.
I guess it could be worse. If Voldemort finds out about my Harry Potter Nativity scene, I don’t think my wand from Ollivander’s Wand Shop in Univeral Studios is going to do me a whole lot of good.
*Illuminati, if you are reading this, please move on. This is not the blog you are looking for.
My brief mention of St. Francis of Assisi the other day reminded me of a funny story regarding saints, real estate, and MILlie.
A few years ago, we were trying to sell our house, and MILlie, an elderly friend of ours, mentioned to us that there was a saint who could help us with this. She claimed that, if we buried the saint upside down in our yard, we would quickly get an offer on our house.
Even after it was clarified that we should probably bury a STATUE of the saint, instead of the actual saint, I was still skeptical. I had grown up in the Catholic Church, and had never heard of this practice. I can be a little irreverent sometimes, but this sounded downright sacrilegious. Weren’t the saints treated badly enough when they were alive?
I consulted a few other upstanding Catholics, and some members of the real estate field, and they all confirmed MILlie’s claims.
A couple of weeks later, MILlie presented us with a statue of our very own to bury in the yard. As luck would have it, we did not even have the chance to bury the statue before we got a bid on the house.
A couple of weeks later, a good friend of mine was desperate to sell her house. Her husband had been transferred unexpectedly, and they had a short turnaround time before they needed to move. I gave her the statue, and told her the story.
The next weekend, MILlie visited. In her hand was a new statue, different saint.
“I gave you the wrong saint,” she said. “You’re supposed to bury St. Joseph.”
“What saint did you give us?” I asked.
“Well, what does he do?”
“I don’t know, but it’s St. Joseph you’re supposed to bury in the yard for an offer on your house.”
After we explained to MILlie that we already had a good offer on the house, she still convinced us to keep St. Joseph – “just in case.”
As soon as she left, I did a little research on the internet about Saint Anthony. Then I called my friend.
“Uh, remember that statue I gave you to bury in the front yard? Did you, uh, do that?”
“Yeah, why? I figured we could use all the help we can get.”
“Hmm. Well, uh, it’s the wrong saint. Apparently, you’re supposed to bury St. Joseph, not St. Anthony.”
“O.K. So, you gave me St. Anthony? What does he do?”
I mumbled my response.
“What? I don’t think I heard you right.”
“Well, it’s an honest mistake. People also bury him in the front yard. But you probably don’t need to do that. He’s the ‘matchmaking saint’.”
“O.K. Well. You bury him in the front yard if you’re trying to find a husband.”
Silence. Did I mention my friend wasn’t exactly thrilled about this sudden transfer her husband had gotten?
“I think I might just leave St. Anthony there for awhile,” she finally said.
I hung up, hoping that I wasn’t going to be held responsible for any unintended consequences of a case of mistaken saint identity.
I’m pretty sure that’s not at the top of my List of Transgressions, though.
I am considering becoming a Jedi Knight.
I’ve checked out the Temple of the Jedi Order, and it appears to reflect most of my religious beliefs. I am a little hesitant, however, in committing myself to a religious order in which none of the council members have last names, and one of them is named War Beauty.
You might ask what inspired me to consider this life-changing decision. I can’t really pinpoint the origin, but I think there may have been several factors.
#1 – The Catholic Church changed some of the wording in the mass. This makes it very hard for me to think about my grocery list while I am mindlessly repeating responses I’ve spoken for 40 years. If I become a Jedi Knight, then I can say some of the cool lines I’ve memorized from the Star Wars movies instead.
#2 – While I was standing against the wall between Stations of the Cross #4 and #5 at the Christmas mass that was apparently attended by every breathing person in San Antonio, I began to question how my spirituality was being enhanced by trying not to faint as I watched a little boy in the last pew practicing his Star Trek Vulcan hand shake.
#3 – I heard a story on the radio claiming that there has been a rise in people listing Jedi Knight as their religion on censuses being taken in other countries. Which means it’s not a trend yet in this country. I LOVE to be a trend-setter.
#4 – The Jedi Creed happens to be a variation of the Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi, who just happens to be my favorite saint. Because he always has animals surrounding him in his statues.
#5 – They apparently have two Corporate addresses – one in the United Kingdom, and one in Texas – the state in which I happen to reside. That can NOT be a coincidence.
#6 – I will not have to be in a mixed marriage because my husband already worships Star Wars.
#7 – It will sound so cool when I run for political office to state in my ads that “I….Am a Jedi Knight.”
I have not applied for membership, yet, as I still have a few questions. My biggest one does not appear to have been answered on the Temple of the Jedi site, so I had to look elsewhere. The results were less than satisfactory. You see, one of the recent changes in the Catholic Church has been to modify the standard response to the statement, “The Lord be with you.” Formerly, the response was, “And also with you” but is now, “And with your spirit.”
I can’t get it right. I either say the old one, very loudly and wrongly, or I say something to do with the Spirit that is far more complicated than the actual response:
“And with the Spirit of St. Louis.”
“Goin’ up to the Spirit in the Sky. That’s where I’m gonna go when I die.”
“We’ve got Spirit. How ‘bout you? We’ve got Spirit, yes we do.”
My brain is apparently not equipped to remember the Vatican’s version.
So, I thought I better check the response to, “May the Force be with you.”
Apparently, this is a point of confusion for the Jedi.
So, I’m putting a hold on my membership until this little detail gets resolved. After all, I don’t want to jump out of the frying pan into the Fires of Hell.