Wailing in Mecca
This weekend marks four years since John Myers' appointment as archbishop of Newark.
To commemorate the blessed event, one of my absolute favorite "Gin, Lace and Backbiting" stories of all time is appropriate. Buckle your seatbelts.
On the morning of 24 July 2001, a wayfarer with eminent ecclesiastical sensibilities was sipping his morning coffee and checking e.mail at a cybercafe in Provincetown, Massachussetts. For some reason -- I guess because the B&B's are quite nice -- P'town is a prestigious haven for clergy in the summertime, one commonly referred to inside the walls as "Mecca."
It was a Tuesday morning and Mecca's internet cafe was full of Right Coasters checking up on news and messages. Out of the corner of his eye, our witness noticed a group of middle-aged men in mismatched clothes hovering over one computer in some kind of expectation.
Given their lack of sartorial fabulousness, we have a name for that kind in Philadelphia: "frumpy."
Out of nowhere, the frumpies start hurling expletives at the machine. Severe unprintables in repetition, as if they were praying the Cursing Mysteries or testing out some new, obscure chaplet which hadn't yet gained its imprimatur. This festival of obscenity, I'm told, became such a nuisance that the Mistress of the House had to try and subdue it, screaming, "Keep it down, girls, this is a family establishment!"
Through it all, no one could tell why these mismatched gentlemen were so upset. And then one among them let slip the cause: "I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY'RE SENDING US MYERS!"
And so, a group of Newarkers on pilgrimage found out who the new Boss was. Obviously, they didn't know about the Queen Victoria Monument. And obviously, time has proven their anxieties unfounded.
Thought everyone would enjoy that. Happy Anniversary to the archbishop.
-30-
To commemorate the blessed event, one of my absolute favorite "Gin, Lace and Backbiting" stories of all time is appropriate. Buckle your seatbelts.
On the morning of 24 July 2001, a wayfarer with eminent ecclesiastical sensibilities was sipping his morning coffee and checking e.mail at a cybercafe in Provincetown, Massachussetts. For some reason -- I guess because the B&B's are quite nice -- P'town is a prestigious haven for clergy in the summertime, one commonly referred to inside the walls as "Mecca."
It was a Tuesday morning and Mecca's internet cafe was full of Right Coasters checking up on news and messages. Out of the corner of his eye, our witness noticed a group of middle-aged men in mismatched clothes hovering over one computer in some kind of expectation.
Given their lack of sartorial fabulousness, we have a name for that kind in Philadelphia: "frumpy."
Out of nowhere, the frumpies start hurling expletives at the machine. Severe unprintables in repetition, as if they were praying the Cursing Mysteries or testing out some new, obscure chaplet which hadn't yet gained its imprimatur. This festival of obscenity, I'm told, became such a nuisance that the Mistress of the House had to try and subdue it, screaming, "Keep it down, girls, this is a family establishment!"
Through it all, no one could tell why these mismatched gentlemen were so upset. And then one among them let slip the cause: "I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY'RE SENDING US MYERS!"
And so, a group of Newarkers on pilgrimage found out who the new Boss was. Obviously, they didn't know about the Queen Victoria Monument. And obviously, time has proven their anxieties unfounded.
Thought everyone would enjoy that. Happy Anniversary to the archbishop.
-30-
posted by Rocco Palmo at 20:02
1 Comments:
Yes. The B&Bs. And I suppose most men go to Pottery Barn to buy footballs...
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