Saturday, September 23, 2006

Catholic Guilt At Its Finest

The forecast for today in the Twin Cities is 100% chance of rain. High of 60 degrees. Kind of like yesterday.

So I open my email and what do I see? An update on our parish's Fall Festival, which is this weekend.

"PLEASE come and support Holy Family Church's Fall Festival during the day and evening.
I know the weather is not ideal, but so many people have spent many hours to put this on for you.
Also, the many volunteers that spent Thursday, Friday, and Saturday morning setting it up in the rain."

Did you hear that? They spent all those hours just to put this on for YOU. In the cold, wet rain, yet. Just for YOU!

"You have to come and have a shredded beef sandwich. Do you know we have someone that spent all night getting the meat cooked and ready for you."

That's right. Someone slaved over a hot stove.
Just for YOU!!

"We have the Teddy Bear Band coming at 1:00PM to entertain your kids and if no one's there who are
they going to sing to?"

Sniff. Sniff. Stop. Stop. please....

"Gramma Bubbles is coming at 2pm to create balloon sculptures for you and your kids."

Sniff... I always wanted a balloon sculpture... every since I was a... (choke back sob) a kid...


Well, actually, I'm from Long Island. In adverse conditions we whine a lot. The conditions don't even have to be all that adverse, really.

But we'll go. It's either that or endure the "Minnesota Passive Aggression" (they call it "Minnesota Nice," but trust me, it ain't) reproachful glances for the next six months. Besides, there is this one other thing in the email:

"We need help in the Beer Garden to drink the beer and Margarita's. (There will be heaters in the tent if needed)."

As long as they have those heaters on, I'll be there.


Joke said...


60 degrees? Fahrenheit?


You can hack a lot off Purgatory if you go, methinks. Especially if the beer is y'know, that mass-market stuff.


Sue said...

Welcome back joke.

chicklette said...

This brings back the memories! Sounds so very much like the letters home from St.Camillus over the years. Or worse yet the guilt ridden phone calls asking you to volunteer. The panicky looking around to find a sharp object to hack off a limb so you can beg off, but knowing that the only acceptable excuse not to would be your own demise. GOLLY-I miss Catholic School--NOT! Hope the margarita tent was fun!