The Return of The Catholic Kid: Xmastime Goes to Mass

First of all, I was shocked at how lackadaisical the whole thing was.  Coming from a hometown of Southern Fried Baptists wherein the rare Catholics at my own church were largely weekenders in shorts itching to hit the river, I expected a Catholic Church in an old Brooklyn Italian neighborhood to be "the real thing" - fat mob-looking guys in sharkskin suits looking doomed as the priest prattles on in Latin.  A somber affair, at least.  The kind of Mass I snobbily demand, even while being a lapsed Catholic who doesn't believe in God.

It wasn't.

First of all, I thought I was being a tad "rebellious" by saying "fuck you God, I'm not wearing a tie!" (memories of my trusty brown clip-on haunting me, of course.)  I put on my best dress pants, my #1 sportcoat, a clean white button-down and my fanciest shoes, all topped by my Calvin Klein (heard of him, losers?) worsted wool overcoat that I've let out of the stable maybe five times in ten years and headed out - the second I left my building I was sweating "who the fuck do you think you are - no tie!?!?" I figured I'd enter the Church and explode into flames.

Turns out, I was by far the best dressed dude in there. What the fuck? I only saw one other guy who even wore a sportcoat, and he had on jeans and ONLY A T-SHIRT UNDER THE SPORTCOAT!!!!! I will now pause for your stupid "Crockett & Tubbs" jokes.  Everyone was in jeans and t-shirts, with a few exceptions who really rolled out the glamor with, ta-da!...sweatpants.  Sweatpants!!  And judging from their girth, they weren't on the way to or from the gym.

Secondly, I spent the entire 15-minute walk/sprint from my building to the Church in a panic that I'd be late; of course I got there 20 minutes early.  There were maybe 6 other people there, and the choir was practicing.  Not only did half of the congregation roll in with about a minute to spare, but the other half wandered in immediately AFTER the priest!!! Wtf?  I understand shit happens and you get caught scrambling in late, apologizing profusely - but these people obviously were standing around outside doing whatthefuckever until they saw the priest start the service and then decided "okay, now's a good time to grace everyone with our presence." And that was HALF the fucking people!  For fuck's sake, there's should be a lion at the door once the priest passes through i - if you still wanna try to enter you're welcome to try; otherwise, get your sorry, sweatpants-covered ass (JUICY, indeed) in a pew before Father Mike lights this fucking candle. Pitiful.

In it's defense, it did happen to be the Children's Service, so maybe it's simply the most casual of the four Sunday services for that very reason.

As for the service itself it was fine; I kind of enjoyed it actually.  Amazing how relaxing church can be when 1) you can remove any religious mumbo-jumbo from the whole affair, and 2) you can simply get up and walk out at any time without the fear of your father burying you next to the septic tank in the backyard.  Father Lynch, whom I met the other day, made a point of coming up and saying hello to me shortly after I arrived (being one of half a dozen people in the building, I wasn't hard to miss)(wait - do you think it's because he knows about my life above the rim?), and I saw him while leaving and told him I enjoyed his Homily, which I did.  The gist was we all need to take care of those who can't take care of themselves, which to me is the single most important tenet of any religion, so it was nice to hear in a very specific way (again - no mumbo-jumbo, just straight-up be compassionate/golden rule stuff.)

I enjoyed going and will go again; hell, it's nice to do something on a Sunday morning other than stew in my own juices being a fucking loser for whatever reason.  Next time I'll try the 12:30 service, the "young, brunch-going crowd" one.

WELL, well, well God - I'M BACK!

And oh yeah - you DAMN well know for sure that whenever I do see any of my Catholic people from down home I'll wow them with how "real" Catholic Mass in Brooklyn is; the "Major Leagues" of Catholicism, complete with Bull Durham speech.  "Yeah, I was in The Show. I was in the show for 2 hours once - you know, you never handle your own bulletin in the show, somebody else carries your bulletin. It was great. The Communion wafers are the size of Oreos, the cathedrals are like ballparks, the confessionals all have room service, and the social program directors all have long legs and brains."

I will now list all of my Facebook postings I did throughout the Mass, in order (hey, who do you think created Facebook in the first place?  BOOM!  Did I just blow your mind, Unfaithful Reader?) for those of you not cool enough to by my FB friend (BFBFF?):

Acoustic guitars. Oh great, I'm at a Church for gd hippies.

I'll say this about church: I do rock a sportcoat.


I just realized I'm at a children's Mass. This totally crushes my whole "go to Church to meet women" plan :( (tho the unobstructed altar view is nice)


Even with church, Williamsburg has to be cool: 10:00 listed start time means 10:15 actual start time; half the crowd still wanders in late.


All the kids were just escorted out. Is this when the keg shows up?


Again, I know ive been outta the loop for a while, but I swear the choir just sang the theme song from "Maude."

‎"let us offer each other a sign of peace" scorecard:
Handshakes: 3
Phone numbers: 0
I'm missing Desperate Housewives for this?


I think I might be the best dressed dude here. Now THAT'S a miracle!


Just caught an old lady falling while exiting the church. If there was ever a time for me to get hit by a bus, this is that time.