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                         Another Foggy Moment

      These are the continuing adventures of a typical resident
      of the self-proclaimed center of the Pugetopolis universe -
      Seattle. Most are true stories but some are made of whole-
      cloth. I ain't the Mayor, the Governor or a Big Shot. Just
      another Working Stiff with a Bad Attitude.

                     THIS AIN'T NO STINK'N BLOG
                 
         ------------------------------------------------
         WARNING: This is not a Child-Proof Neighborhood.
         If you're a kid - scram!, beat it! you little
         punk before your Old Lady catches you and calls
         the cops. They'll throw you in the Big House in
         Walla Walla and won't let you out until you're
         89 years old. There. Don't say I didn't warn you.
         -------------------------------------------------

                             - 167 -

 For an unprecedented third consecutive week, the Husky Marching Band,
 cleverly disguised as Guy Lombardo & his Deontological Constructivist
 Ochlocracy, paraded and sashayed through the neighborhood in all their 
 Hyblaean, libininous, sassiness as they serenaded the Frats and
 Sororities. Every other week used to be the norm but I could easily 
 get used to this. The only socially redeeming value to college
 football is the bands and cheerleaders. Otherwise, it sucks.

 The Ospreys are back. Well, some of them anyways. Up until Regatta
 Weekend back in the spring, they used to gather in the trees at the
 lake-end of Montlake Cut on the Ship Canal. There would be a hundred
 or so of them making their weird un-birdlike noises and valiantly
 trying to remain balanced on the branches with their webbed feet. 
 But when the Regatta crew moved in, they moved out and disappeared
 for the entire summer. There's still lots of leaves on the trees
 which limits space to the few bare branches, so only a handful can 
 find room. The the rest will likely be along after the leaves have 
 all dropped.

 The first arrivals for the salmon's Life & Death Pow Wow showed this 
 past week at the U Dub salmon pond as well. I noticed one on Sunday
 night. By Tuesday, there were 10 or so. Bu Wednesday, there was a
 crowd. Once they're in, it's difficult to get back out. The entrance 
 gap has been caged in with just a one-at-a-time stove-pipe thingee 
 for getting in and out. The birds kind of linger on the edges. Sure
 there's fish in there but most of them are twice as big as they are.
 They'll discretely await their moment.

 SODO MOFOS SUCK AGAIN...

 The Mariner's Major League Baseball record is still intact for yet 
 another season. They remain one of the few teams that has never lost 
 a single World Series game in the entire history of the franchise. 
 Not even one. The reason is simple: they've never been in a World 
 Series game in the entire quarter century the team has existed. At
 least the Red Sox got enough class to get in the occasional Series
 before screwing it up. The M's ain't even got that much going for them.

 And as long as Loserville Lou hangs around sucking up paychecks without
 delivering any Goodies, they never will be in one. Never in the history
 of baseball has a coach done so little with so much. Despite being
 handed some of the finest young players to emerge in the last 10 years
 he ain't even been able to get them within sniffing range of a World
 Series game. My grandmother, bless her dearly departed old soul, would
 have racked up at least two winning World Series by now given the same
 talent to work with. And she could have whooped Lou's ass, to boot.
 Forget that BS about the Mets wanting him. How come nobody who wants 
 him ever puts an actual offer on the table? Kind of makes the whole 
 thing look fake. Throw the fat, steenkin slob outta there. That bum
 couldn't manage a hot dog stand.

 HERE WE GO...

 Cor Blimie! It's only preliminary, but it looks like the English Soccer
 Premiership's legendary Red Devils - Manchester United - will be coming
 to Hooterville in the summer of 2003 for an exhibition game. And while
 their opponent isn't set yet, it looks like the Japanese National team
 is a possibility. It should be shortly before the game against Mexico
 they've got scheduled in L.A. for July 27th. 

 Obviously it would have been better to have Arsenal coming but if all
 we can get is an also-ran team, I guess we'll have to make the best
 of it eh. Aside from a brief run around Memorial Stadium by He of the
 Divine Ponytail - Roberto Baggio - we aint' seen any real Footie talent
 around here since the old NASL days. This will be Kewl. But we'll have
 to shut the border down that day or the damn Canuks will over-run the
 city. They'll be flooding down.

 DUMB POLLOCKS...

 Between that dumb Pollock who runs our Coppe Shoppe and that dumb Pollock
 who runs the Schools, we go'n broke. Chief Gil, lacking in any tactical
 ability and incapable of controlling a mob of Madi Gras drunks, has had
 to win the confidence of his 'troops' by piling on MegaBucks worth of
 phony and un-necessary overtime. He's using tax-money to buy his way into
 their hearts. How generous of him. He did teach them that neato Polish
 Firing Squad routine that provided us all with a chuckle and made
 international headlines a year or so ago. But the City's had to pass on 
 a number of big international conventions for lack of a competent police
 force. An expensive omission. And while the Department gets involved in
 one shabby racial episode after another with a steady string of Federal
 investigations by the U.S. Attorney's Office and FBI. 

 Now the dumb Pollock who's the Schools Superintendent discovers he made
 a $33 MegaBuck goof. Classy guy that he is, he tried to slough it off on
 his former COO. Typical Pollock. At a time when teachers are striking
 left and right in an effort to put together a living paycheck, this comes
 as a particular shock. We can't afford to pay them right but we got $33
 Million Clams for this jerk to 'misplace'?! Say it ain't so!

 While I'm sure these clowns come cheap, their screw-ups cost way more
 that it would have cost to hire somebody competent to begin with.  

 BTW - I have no qualms about using the 'Pollock' word when referring to
       Poles. Aside from back-woods hillbillies, nobody uses the 'Nigger'
       word more than Pollocks and Wops. What's good for the Goose is 
       good for the Gander. Besides, everytime I think of Poland I think
       of that two-millenia old, massive Jewish community that ain't
       there any more. It isn't a cooincidence that Hitler put most of
       his Death Camps in Poland. Nor was it a cooincidence that he 
       staged his invasion of Russia from Poland. He knew he could rely 
       on those Pollocks more than he could rely on his own Krauts. And
       they didn't let him down. May those bigots rot in hell.

 CITY ENGINEERING DUMBASSES...

 If the finished part is any indication, all that reno work the City 
 is doing on The Ave in the U District is a waste of time and money.
 They widened the sidewalk alright - for trees, not for humans. Over
 half of the additional 'lane' of sidewalk is occupied by trees. It
 is physically impossible to walk more than a few paces on it without
 having to dodge back onto the existing old sidewalk. That's why they
 wiped out all the parking on The Ave? How freak'n stupid! We got plenty
 of trees around here. What we don't have is parking or a functional 
 public transit system. Do you have to be a retard to work for Seattle 
 City Engineering Department? Appears so. 

 The REAL purpose of this little Dog and Pony Show was to redo the
 road bed for the traffic. The City knew that wouldn't inspire any
 public support so they lied about the sidewalk widening to Sling
 it. With a spiffy new roadbed and no parking obstructing the road, 
 the traffic will now be able to whizz down there at high speed. 
 Right through the middle of thousands of pedestrians. Doh! The only 
 guy who wins on this deal is Merlino. He's laughing all the way to 
 the bank. Easy money.

 MR. ROCKADOODLEDOO TWO...

 "That chicken was not scared. He just sat there all bold." So said 
 the uncle of a young girl in Tarpon Springs, FL who was attacked by 
 a rooster this week after he desperately booted it into the next yard 
 and it responded by puffing itself up and glaring at him. For some
 reason, Mr. Rockadoodledoo Two, who has peacefully - if somewhat 
 illegally - coexisted amongst his human companions for many years, 
 went on a wild, demented and completely unprovoked tear, repeatedly
 attacking a two-year old girl who had just walked out of her house. 

 One of my earliest childhood memories is of a number of pet roosters
 that lived in my neighborhood. An attack of this nature was a daily
 affair back then. Roosters did that sort of thing all the time. That
 was why people kept them. In the Good Old Days, standard equipment in 
 many American households, both urban and rural, were: a family cow,
 chickens and a horse, supplemented by a large garden. People kept 
 them for self-sufficency reasons. So that if hard times hit, they could
 feed themselves and get around irregardless. Cars eliminated the horses
 early on, but the cows and chickens really didn't pass from America's
 urban neighborhoods until the late 50's. While passing through San 
 Antonio, Texas on the train in the 80's, I remember seeing a family 
 cow in one backyard even then. Probably some old Geezer who didn't 
 give a damn about no gol dang by-laws.

 Pet roosters were amongst the last vestage of that Great Age to pass.
 If you had a rooster, you had: an alarm-clock, guard-dog, natural-born
 comedian and a source of high-class entertainment all rolled in one.
 Unlike dogs, I never had an urge as a child to pet a rooster. But I 
 took great delight in watching that preposterously proud, eternally
 cantankerous, utterly fearless little bastard strutting around like 
 he owned the whole goddam world. They weren't just looking for trouble,
 they was hoping and praying it'd show up.

 There just seemed to be something about him that subliminally said, 
 "Come on over here kid so I can kick your ass." Naturally I avoided 
 doing so. And if he suddenly made a beeline for me, I knew well enough 
 to high-tail it outta there pronto. I was scared of roosters. They was
 real mean and nasty little sumbitches that'd scratch the hell outta 
 your legs with their spurs and peck your eyes out.

 The cops came and got Mr. Two's sister Ms. Hen. She went quietly. 
 But Rocky went down with a fight. He led six cops on a wild rooster
 chase they won't be forgetting any time soon. They chased him all
 over north Florida for a few hours before they finally tuckered him
 out enough to nab him. The reporter's account suspiciously avoided
 mentioning his fate. I got dibs on the drumsticks.

 While I liked the pet dogs I had as a kid, I always secretly yearned
 for my own rooster. Still do. I find them inspirational. 

.........................................................................

                      CONTRA CABAL PARADIGM

 Mr. Trummel is an excellent example of what is in store for the Baby
 Boom Generation when it begins filling all the disgusting government
 funded human garbage dumps we stuff our elderly in. No matter how much 
 of a butt-hole or medicated concentration camp the place may be - keep
 your mouth shut or there will be hell to pay. The people who run those
 buck-sucking operations have Big Money. They own the Cops, the judges,
 the reporters and every other official whore in town. The System will
 not help or protect you. You will not be allowed your Day In Court. 
 They will punish you. In fact, they just may try to kill you as they
 have with Mr. Trummel.

 A genteel, semi-retired U Dub journalism prof, Mr. Trummel found out
 the hard way. Living at a joint called Council House up on Capital Hill,
 he set out to expose the injustice he encountered there. He is afterall 
 a professional journalist. Our News Nazis and Inferior Court's cluelss
 Judge Jimmy "The Token Twinkie" Doerty said he wasn't a journalist but
 the Washington State Supreme Court says otherwise. They recently ruled 
 he most definitely IS a professional journalist and entitled to all the
 legal protections due that profession. He did his expose through his
 webpage on the Internet. Nothing unusual about that. Thanks to America's
 gutless legions of editors, the Net is full of expose webpages. 

 But two things made this situation different from any other. Council
 House has a lot to hide. Why else would they freak about an obscure
 webpage amongst the many millions on the Net? And, second of all, one
 of the directors of Council House is married to a King County Inferior
 Court judge - Tony Wartnik. 

 Tony's the drunk's best friend. One of his buddies went head-on into
 another car, killing its driver (while sloshed at three-times the legal
 limit). Despite having two prior convictions for drunk-driving, Tony let
 him off with just first-offender time. Only a third of what the Prosecutor
 was asking for. Curious eh. He seems to especially like drunk rugby players 
 who highjack cars. When a visiting Univ. of New Mexico rugby star got
 Plastered (while underage I might add) at a local watering hole (presently 
 being sued), he grabbed a friend's gun, carjacked a nearby vehicle, and
 then while running a red light, ploughed into the side of another vehicle
 instantly killing its driver. Tony, with his heart bleeding beneath his
 judicial robes, gave him a minimal 10 year sentence. The least time allowed 
 under sentencing guidelines. Hey, he was White, he was young, he was just
 have'n a little fun. Not like that little Black bastard who killed a cop.
 Tony threw the book at that kid. Well at least you know what to give
 Judge Tony come Christmas - a big bottle of Canadian Club baby. Him and
 Judge Twinkie are a real Item around the KingCo Courthouse - the Twinkie
 and the Lush.

 For no other reason than he got Sassy with the buck-sucking bastards 
 who run Council House, Mr. Trummel was rendered homeless, buried in 
 legal debt, thrown in prison for 111 day and stripped of his freedom
 of speech. Judge Twinkie actually had this 70-ish former university 
 prof, in poor health, thrown in Solitary Confinement for much of his 
 jail stay. Huh! Was he afraid he'd beat up the guards? 

 Mr. Trummel's case has taught us all a few lessons about how to deal
 with any future abuse at the hands of care facility management or staff.
 There isn't a helluva lot of difference between a state-funded care 
 facility and a prison. Hell, a prison is vastly superior in nearly 
 every respect - free rent, free healthcare and intellectually stimulating
 companions. Since you old and ugly, it ain't likely any Pretty Boy
 will want to bang your butt either. Add in that Mr. Trummels' case has
 shown that the punishment is just as severe for lipping-off as it is 
 for felony assault. Now exactly what incentive do you have for playing 
 the game by their rules. None that I can think of. You can tell them
 to kiss your sweet ass. Show me to my cell Jeeves. I don't wanna be
 late for dinner.

 It's not like the cops or judges will protect your legal rights. Unless
 you got some Big Money to wave under those whores noses, they'd be more
 likely to punish you just for living too long. It's not like our News
 Nazis give a rats ass about anybody in a state facility. They pop up
 with the occasional lurid headline but never follow up. If you're in
 your late 60's or older, it's not like you're going to live much beyond
 another decade anyways. Even a half-assed Luser of a PD could stretch out 
 any court appeals on even a Murder One rap well beyond that. Your age has 
 given you immunity from prosecution. Any smart ass facility manager give
 you grief - you got the green light to do whatever you damn well please
 in retaliation. That pathetic little asshole has a lot more to lose than
 you do. 

 I've never understood why people kill in anger. I would think that if
 you really want to screw somebody - maim them. Put them in a wheelchair 
 for the rest of their life. They can't get you on a murder rap. If
 you're an old Geezer who has been financially raped by a care facility
 and liquidated by various levels of government before being put on
 welfare, you are also defacto immune from lawsuits. You broke. Ain't
 nothing left to sue you for. Best of all, the dumbass you nailed has to 
 spend the rest of their natural life as a Gimp. Not a day goes by that
 they don't have a reminder of what their arrogance and stupidity cost
 them. I ain't recommending nuth'n here, just exploring the reality of
 the situation government has created.

 Ideally the most practical way to handle your advanced age is to get
 together with a small group of your closest friends and buy/lease/rent 
 a house. Then hire a care worker whom you have complete control over. 
 You'd be amazed what a difference in attitude it makes when they need
 YOUR name on their paycheck and it's YOU who can Can their ass if they
 goof off or screw up. DO NOT SIGN UP FOR ANY FRIK'N AGENCY LIKE THOSE 
 RELIGIOUS SCAMS. Those mercenary bastards will just rip you off and 
 leave you twisting in the wind when you need help the most. They just
 use the poor and old to troll for federal and state grant money. Their
 clients mean even less than Jesus to them.

 Spare me the bullshit about angelic care workers. They're all low-grade
 buck-sucking scum. From the tranquilizer-happy nursing super who turns
 her facility into a house of Space Cadets, to the Alzheimer care worker
 who drives ol Granny over to the bank once a month to have her withdraw 
 a thousand as a 'tip' for her favorite little nurse, to the low-lives
 who 'voluntarily' staff hospices so they can milk the dying for all their
 worldly goods as they slip their earthly bonds. They're all predators of
 the worst sort. And NOBODY is watching them, let alone yanking their chain.
 They dump millions of bucks into political campaign coffers every election 
 to make damn sure it stays that way.  They get their hands on you, you
 screwed baby.
 
 Mr. Trummel's fault is that he is an honest, gentle and intelligent man
 in the finest English tradition. If he had taken a crowbar to that
 manager instead of a pen, like any self-respecting American would have,
 he'd have had the satisfaction of knowing he wasn't the only victim
 around. But that isn't his style. I ain't gonna be so nice. They bite 
 me, I'll bite back. They'll learn the meaning of 'pain and misery'.

 Mr. Trummel's Webpage:
 contracabal.org
...........................................................................

 Okkie:        Where you from?
 Harvard Grad: I come a place where we don't end our sentences with
               prepositions.
 Okkie:        Okay, where you from, jackass?

............................................................................

                          'OL YELLER'S TWAT
                   (aka The War Against Terrorism)

 Amazing! Ol Yeller don't even have to invade Iraq. Thanks to the able
 help of Vice Presidents Daschle & Gephardt he's already won the war 
 that counted - the elections in November. While the economy goes down 
 the toilet and we head for certain economic doom, all he had to do was 
 yell, "Hey! Lookee over there!" while pointing in the general direction
 of Iraq. Gol dang if every Democrat in the country didn't look. He 
 easily schnookered them all. They haven't even mentioned the economy, 
 the one issue he handed to them on a silver platter. Sheesh! If Yeller's 
 a retard then what does that make Daschle and Gephardt - aside from 
 drooling dumbasses? Instead of easily taking both houses, it's now
 unlikely they'll even be able to hang onto the Senate. Doh!

 Aside from Yeller's psychotic insanity and delusions of grandeur, this
 period has been marked by the utter failure of the Democrats to defend
 the Constitution, defend the Bill of Rights, defend the precepts of
 Common Law or even demand anything as simple as an accounting for events.
 They've offered no oppostition, loyal or otherwise. They've offered no
 alternatives. They've been destitute of ideas. They've been a waste of
 space and time. 

 You would have thought they could at least have had Jesse Jackson
 stand on the White House lawn in front the Network TV cameras yelling,
 "Come on out here you gutless son-of-a-bitch'n little Cracker so I 
 can kick your goddam hillbilly ass all the way back to Texas!" That 
 alone would guarantee that Yeller would spend the next two weeks 
 hiding under his bed. He's a-feared of Uppity Nigras. Them and
 aggressive women like Barbara Streisand.

 Nonetheless, the beat goes on. Jump'n around screaming, "He tried to
 kill my Daddy! He tried to kill my Daddy!", and acting like a rabid
 monkey, Yeller is sure looking Hellbent for Baghdad. He not only
 thinks like a retard, he fights like one too: 100% all-out, fists
 flying, going for broke, last man standing wins. No clever moves.
 No class. No brains. Just crude, ugly thuggery. A Muhammed Ali
 would easily dance around a guy like that, occasionally tying him
 up in the ropes to cut his head and/or lips while tiring him out.
 He called it 'Dope On A Rope'. Just dance and dodge until he runs
 out of gas. Then !POW! Sayonara sucker! 

 Threatening one and all, Yeller promised 'regime changes' all around 
 if they didn't get with HIS program. (Threat does not apply to nations
 with nuclear weapons. Must be impoverished and defenseless to qualify. 
 Offer expires upon completion of the Harken Oil memorial wall to
 Americans who died in service to the oil industry. Void beyond 
 low-earth orbit.)

 While the Euros and Rooskies snicker and guffaw  at his ludicrous
 antics, the U.N. is feverishly searching high and low for some valium 
 to calm him down so they can put him back in his cage at the Great
 American Monkey House. Though it's not like there's anything they can
 do about it if he don't wanna go - aside from helplessly cluck their
 tongues and futilely wag their fingers. He told that high-ass Nigra
 Nelson Mandela where to get off and it wouldn't bother him to do the
 same to that little Darkie who runs the U.N. Somebody's got to show
 these Colored Folks their Place and by god Yeller's just the White 
 Man to do it.

 But there's been something of a plot complication...

 You may have noticed that the mass-murdering War Criminal who passes
 for Israel's Prime Minister these days, made a rare and rather
 extraordinary trip to Moscow last week. Considering that Sharon is
 subject to immediate arrest in most of the world and the two nations
 hate each others guts with a deep passion, this is a very unusual
 rendevous. Much of Reichsfuhrer Sharon's nation is populated by Jews
 who escaped Russia's historical anti-Jewish bigotry and virtually 
 all those Israeli Offense Force thugs pounding the Palestinians are
 Russian immigrants. 

 This tells us: (1) Putin had something VERY important to say to 
 Sharon; (2) he had to say it face-to-face and (3) no diplomatic
 reprimand to be handed to the Ambassador, this was sufficently
 threatening to Israel's well-being that Sharon felt compelled to
 drop everything, swallow his pride, and come when summoned. My 
 bet is Putin told him that if he even thinks of using his nukes, 
 he'll make Israel glow in the dark like a Dashboard Jesus for the 
 next two thousand years. 

 So the stage is set. Will they? Will he? Will we? Will there be
 a tomorrow?

 Meanwhile, Saddam has had his advance troops sent to the Cayman 
 Islands to fluff up the pillows and turn down the bedspread at his
 condo in preparation for his imminent arrival. He'll be right next
 door to Osama & Naomi bin Laden and that nice Preacher Umar and his
 wife from Afghanistan. Which is just a spit and holler from Yeller's 
 own "Casa Just In Case" and Kenny Lay's "Chez Cheesewhiz". It's a 
 very exclusive neighborhood.
 
 As we prepare to slaughter off thousands of Iraqi civilians who have
 never threatened us let alone attacked us; as the Mid-East verges on
 political chaos; as Europe wonders if Adolph Hitler has reincarnated
 as an American President; along comes our own JimmyMac, Congressman
 from Pluto and the further reaches of the U District, for some comic
 relief. This week he yelled, "Hey everybody! Look at me! I'm in downtown
 Baghdad! Ain't I a naughty boy? So where are these weapons of mass
 destruction? I don't see any. Republicans sure suck." 

 Could this be the great peacemaker who sat silently while President
 Bubba Jay ordered Bimbo Bombings to cover his lying, sexually
 compromised political ass? Could this be the great humanitarian who
 obediently kept his trap shut while Secretary of State Maddy Albright
 played with her Half-Million Dead Iraqi Babies? Could this be the
 great champion of civil rights who got sued $250,000 for releasing
 the private cellphone conversations of one of his political rivals?
 Yep. Sure is. What a phony, self-serving hypocrite. He drew big,
 black headlines in Hooterville, otherwise the story lasted about two
 hours. The White Wing Wackos on Talk Radio did appreciate his effort. 
 It gave them something to scream about for a day or two. All the 
 impact of a spit in the ocean. That's our Jimmy.

.........................................................................

 Mirrors are ice which does not melt; what melts are those who admire
 themselves in them.
                                                 - Paul Morand -
.........................................................................

                        -  MONDO VATICANO -

 As the world is poised on the Eve of Destruction, the old Pollock
 shuffled out beneath the big Disco Ball in the Vatican Ballroom with
 his walker and mumbled something about everybody praying the rosary.
 Presumedly he didn't include Jews, Muslims, Buddhist or Voodoun in
 with his World Peace strategy. Hopefully this jerk will die soon so
 we can get a functional Pope. Every Sunday when we get to the Canon
 of the Mass where there is a short prayer for the Pope, I pray 
 instead that we might soon have a new Pope.

                                 +

 I don't reject the Magisterium. Obviously it's relevance varies with
 the reigning Pope and current Curia. The present pair are almost
 totally lacking in any sort of spiritual integrity. John Paul II's
 spirituality is as crude and superstitious as any Pollock peasant's.
 It's cheap, shallow and worthless. The Curia, dominated by Cardinal
 "Ratso" Ratzinger and the Opus Dei thugs, is likewise lacking in
 integrity. Their teachings have far more to do with politics, both
 internal and external, than with spiritual matters. Both have failed 
 to maintain discipline and integrity within the priesthood, deliberately
 concealing and protecting dangerous perverts who repeatedly harmed
 children in their care. They've allowed the liturgy and sacraments 
 to degenerate and failed in their duty to protect our traditions.

 Because of this situation, Catholics are being forced to choose
 whether they are Vatican Catholics or Spiritual Catholics. Whether
 they are faithful to the hierarchy or faithful to the Family of God.
 An easy choice for me. The Vatican is not the Church - WE are.
 They ain't get'n a dime off of me.

                               +

 A few years ago I had the opportunity to work in a church for a short
 while. It wasn't a Catholic church but rather, a Protestant church 
 whose liturgy and traditions were very similar to ours. They were 
 very respectful of my Catholicism and made no effort to pressure me
 into becoming part of their church. Though they made it clear I was
 more than welcome. I just performed a service role and had nothing
 directly to do with things otherwise. My immortal soul seems to be
 intact. It was a fascinating and enlightening experience.

 Authority in their parish was divided into two areas. The pastor had
 control over everything relating to liturgy and services. He/she
 also hired the parish secretary. (One of the assistant pastors was
 a woman priest) An elected lay committee actually owned the church 
 itself and were responsible for secular matters. They also hired the
 pastor. The natural tension this introduced was normally healthy and
 helped keep everyone involved sensitive and respectful of one anothers
 roles. 

 It wasn't always that way though. Decades earlier they had abruptly 
 fired a pastor who turned around and successfully sued them to get
 his job back! There were a tense couple years before he decided to
 move off to another parish - with his professional reputation intact.
 They had also dealt with a pastor who was an alcoholic and managed 
 it far more humanely and with greater spiritual integrity than any
 Catholic ecclesicastial body I've ever seen faced with the same 
 situation. It was dealt up-front and honestly. Everyone had a chance 
 to have their say. He stayed and was given an assistant to help him. 
 The assistant eventually went on to become pastor. Even in retirement
 he still comes back to fill in when their regular pastor is on vacation
 or whatever. He got the help he needed to deal with his alcoholism. 
 He got the help he needed in running things. And he was allowed his
 dignity and self-respect. Everybody thought he was a great guy and
 they're always happy to see him when he fills in. I was impressed. 
 These were very ordinary people who took their responsibility as 
 Christians very seriously. As we've seen with the Pervert Priest
 Scandals, that doesn't happen in our Church where institutional needs
 out-rank those of society, individuals and God.

 Their most recent pastor had transferred to another parish. They were
 in the midst of a two year search for a replacement. A few months after
 I started, with great relief they finally found a new pastor they all
 agreed upon. But I had the chance to watch the final phase of the 
 search and was amazed. This was a small church that held no more than
 a couple hundred people. Yet their pastor got a 6-figure salary! Wow!
 How in the hell could they afford THAT, I wondered? The whole process
 was startingly mercenary too. Oi! Interviewees flew in from the east
 coast and California with their laptops bristling with Excel worksheets
 loaded for bear. I think this is why it took so long - the generally
 buck-sucking nature of most of their clergy. It took them a while to
 find one who was religiously-oriented. Tell me our Church is any
 different and I'll have to stiffle a laugh.

 The priest they chose was just their cup of tea - a married Old Hippy.
 Much like the hotel business, they learned long ago that a married 
 couple is a two-fer-the-price-of-one deal. Not only do they do twice
 the work, they are far more stable and more firmly committed. Aside
 from the jealousy of the Old Queens in the Vatican, there is no moral
 or spiritual justification for our cruel celibacy rule. I helped
 them move into the rectory and got a good look at his library. He was 
 a very intelligent guy with an enormous sense of curiosity about
 everything around him. And he really enjoyed the social dynamics of his
 parishoners. Even the Old Farts who reserved judgement and wanted to see
 him in action for a while, at least respected him and grew fond of him.
 He was a guy who genuinely liked his job, worked hard at it and did well.

 Though I wasn't privy to the financial details of their parish, I did
 pick up interesting tid-bits as I went along. The weekly take from
 Sunday services is NOT how they paid their bills. They usually didn't
 make a whole lot from that source. Most of it was given away to the
 poor in their outreach programs. And those programs were highly
 effective. Decades earlier, what was to become the largest and best
 organized food-bank in the city, had begun as one of their outreach
 programs. Doing sincere Good Works was important to them. Not like
 the phony Just-For-Show baloney Bishop Al does in Seattle. Easily
 the most restrictive and stingy of all social programs in the city.
 He really should be ashamed of himself. I know I'm ashamed of him.

 Churches are often the beneficiaries of properties and financial 
 legacies left to them by deceased parishoners. Being an old church, 
 these guys had accumulated very impressive real-estate and investment
 portfolios. They were sitting on a fortune, which they did very little 
 with. It was a constant source of tension between those who wanted to 
 do more and those who just wanted to collect maximum financial return.
 But the revenues from their properties and investments was how they 
 paid the bills - including the pastor's 6-figure salary. Very little
 information about finances was shared with the congregation. They
 were afraid nobody would pay their tithe if they found out how rich
 their church really was. Though everybody suspected as much. It is
 far better to be up-front about money. It makes life so much simpler.

 No doubt many Catholic churches are in the same boat. Though the money
 would go to the bishop instead of the parish. Unless Father could find
 some way to squirrel it away - as many do. Accounting is not a required
 subject in the seminary and tends to be irregular if not sloppy at all
 levels of the Church. Not being answerable to the laity and having no
 taxes to pay means they can play as fast and loose as they like. It's
 a large part of what got us into the mess we're presently in. Few of our
 bishops are honest enough or skilled enough to handle the responsibility.
 Their system has corrupted them.  The bishops meeting in Dallas recently
 were just reforming the Spinoffs without touching the Root Causes. They
 will fail. Guaranteed. But, since failure costs them nothing personally,
 they couldn't care less.
  
 I occasionally like to drop by at their after-services Coffee Klatchs
 to stay in touch. Cardinal Ratzinger wouldn't approve but then I don't
 particularly approve of him either. Call it a stand-off.  

----------------------------------------------------
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