Saturday, December 30, 2006

Yeah, My Trunk's Been Broken Into, Too. Bummer, Huh?

From the Montgomery (Alabama) Advertiser (h/t Amy Welborn):

"Roman Catholic Archbishop Oscar Lipscomb's gold crosier shepherd's crook, his pectoral cross, four mitres, a gold antique chrism vessel and other valuable items were stolen Christmas Eve from his parked car, police said."

[Four mitres? Where was he going with four mitres? A bishop birthday party?]

"Spokesman Officer John Young said Lipscomb had parked his black, four-door Mercedes in front of a home on Spring Bank Road about 6:30 p.m."

[Load up your Mercedes with gold and then park it unattended for a couple of hours. Always a sound plan.]

"The Archbishop discovered the theft when he returned to the vehicle about 8 p.m. There was no sign of forced entry."

[OMG- he didn't even lock the car???]

"A black suitcase was also stolen. It contained religious papers and books, gold coins, a gold oil stock, a wool collar with gold pins, lappets, which are headgear adornments, and a pallium."

[So it was the Pallium Pinchers gang! Or somebody really ticked off that his annulment was stalled, maybe.]

[Or maybe the police should be on the lookout for somebody with really cool "headgear adornments."]

"Young did not know the value of the stolen items."

[Pastors all over the diocese, however, are frantically working their calculators.]

"Lipscomb did not return telephone calls seeking comment."

[Hey, would you?]

Friday, December 29, 2006

Meditation

One of the reasons we chose our current parish is it has a perpetual adoration chapel. 24 hours a day, seven days a week, there's a small room open off he main part ofhte church where the Sacrament is exposed. You can come in any hour of the day or night and do some spiritual reading or meditate in peace.

Usually.

Unless, of course, Mother of God Man decides to drop in.

He sits at the back of the room, eyes shut, head resting on his hand. Seems perfectly harmeless until all of a sudden you hear him sigh, "Mother of God!"

Then there's a moment's silence. Then, louder this time, "Mother of God!"

Another brief stretch of peace- but don't get your hopes up, because here it comes again in a full-fledged moan:
"MOTHER OF GOOOOODDDDD!!"

I've tried timing his ourtbursts. I think he might be saying the Hail Mary. Apparently "Mother of God" is his favorite part. I suppose I should be grateful he's not wailing the whole prayer aloud. But the guy's a real pain. I'm beginning to think one of the many bumps in my paths to sanctity may be Mother of God Man. I figure every time I suppress the urge to turn around and let him have it- "Yo! MOG-man! Put a sock in it back there!" -- I'm earning anti-Purgatory points.

But I swear one of these days I'm going to smack this guy.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

A Christmas Story

Well, here it is, Christmas Eve. The stockings are hung, the cookies are baked, the spouse has worn the camel suit (long story). All is ready for the celebration of the birth of the Savior. Gather 'round, readers, and Auntie Desperate will tell you a Christmas story.

I know a lot of you found this blog through Ann Coulter. So I'm going to tell you an Ann story.

Some years ago when I was living in NYC and Ann was far from famous, my husband and I gave an annual Christmas party. Ann always came, always with an entourage (mostly hopeful young men), and being Ann, she was always late.

Our Christmas party was always a big production, at least for DIH. There were always at least sixty or seventy people, and I made all the food myself (except the sacred lasanga- my half-Italian husband always made that), and did all the baking. Gingerbread men, butter cookies, lemon squares, cheesecakes, apricot rum tortes, chocolate layer cakes, almond paste laden pastries, all that good stuff. By the time it was all over DIH was pretty tired, and especially she was sick of being in the kitchen.

One year Ann arrived at the party just about the time everyone else was taking off. This took her by surprise I think- hey, it was only one a.m., where was everybody going? -- but she didn't take it personally. She looked around my empty living room and announced, "Well! Bet the kitchen's a real mess! Come on, Sue, let's go wrap things up!"

And with that, the lovely long-limbed Ms Coulter rolled up her sleeves and cleaned up the kitchen.

A couple of years ago we moved to Minneapolis. Not a lot of like-minded people here. But nice ones nevertheless, and as always we gave our Christmas party in our new home.

Most of our guests were liberal Dems. One of them,our next-door neighbor, was a professional LD. He ran a fundraising business for things like organic food coops and the like. Late in the evening he noticed a photo of Ann on a sidetable. It was one of her Christmas cards- a photo of her and Ronald Reagan, with the legend "Peace through strength on earth" scribbled at the bottom.

"Hmph! Ann Coulter! She's a [common expletive deleted.]!" said the man.

DIH tries not to take umbrage any more often than she must but nobody steps on my Ann, and certainly not in my house. "She's a very nice girl!" I retorted. "She always loved our Christmas party too. One year she even cleaned up the kitchen!"

There was silence in the living room.

Then my next-door neighbor spoke again.

"Well," he said, "I'm not going to be outdone by the likes of Ann Coulter!"

And with that, he cleaned up my kitchen.

Merry Christmas. all. God bless us every one.

Friday, December 22, 2006

At last!

Just in case I still have readers out there, DIH has been hopelessly offline for days. Finally things are working again and will post tomorrow. And just in case anyone missed me- you are so sweet!

Friday, December 15, 2006

Do You Hear What I Hear....

THE SCENE: Barack "Next President of the United States" Obama is giving a speech in New Hampshire. In the crowd he spots Maureen Dowd of the New York Times. Maureen has recently written a column that refers to Obama's enormous ears.
Immediately following the speech Obama makes a beeline for Dowd.

As recorded by C-SPAN:

OBAMA (off mic): You talked about my ears, and I just want to put you on notice: I'm very sensitive about -- What I told them was, ''I was teased relentlessly when I was a kid about my big ears.'"

DOWD (purring): We're trying to toughen you up

Not that the NYT is campaigning for this guy or anything. But have they thought about what this could mean?

THE SCENE: 2009. President Barack Obama meets with Iranian president Ahmadinejad.

OBAMA: I'm putting you on notice.
AHMADINEJAD: We will bury you!
OBAMA: I meant lay off my ears!
AHMADINEJAD: We will bury you, Dumbo-head!
OBAMA: WAAAA!!!

THE SCENE: 2010. President Obama meets with Democrat flacks.

JAMES CARVILLE: Mr. President, we've been conducting a listening tour, and--
OBAMA: What's that, a joke?
CARVILLE; Sir?
OBAMA: A listening tour'? Was that a wisecrack?
CARVILLE: I meant-
OBAMA: I know what you meant, baldy!
CARVILLE: Now hold on a minute-
OBAMA: See how you like it! Baldy-bean, Baldy-bean!
CARVILLE: Mr President, there has to be a better way to handle Iran.

THE SCENE: 2011. President Obama meets with Ahmadinejad.

AHMADINEJAD: We meet again.
OBAMA: Nose to nose.
AHMADINEJAD: What?
OBAMA: Oh nothing. Look. I have a plan right here.
AHMADINEJAD: You have--
OBAMA: It's right here. Right under your nose.
AHMADINEJAD: Ah- ah-
OBAMA. Hand me my umbrella, I think he's going to sneeze.
AHMADINEJAD: Your negotiating skills-
OBAMA: BIG NOSE! BIG NOSE! BIG NOSE!!!

I can't wait for this campaign. It should be a real blast from what I hear--
Oops. Sorry, Barack.
h/t Limbaugh

Monday, December 11, 2006

Praying For Walleye

My daughter came home today with a "Family Rosary Kit" on loan from her school. The kit consists of a couple of booklets, two tiny plastic statues and several rosaries.

I'm all in favor of encouraging families to pray the rosary together.

But did it have to come in a fishing tackle box?

You can really overdo this Minnesota thing sometimes.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Party Time,Con't.

More helpful hints from Mrs. V.

Match your wine to your walls. If your livingroom is "Kansas Grain" stick with chardonnay. That way when somebody- and I am still mystified as to how they managed this- splashes a bottle of vino all over your white walls you won't have a huge purple splotch you have to paint over. (Note to self: check garage for "Kansas Grain.")

Leave a table of art supplies out for the kids. Not only will they enjoy drawing pictures, they will leave each other charming little messages ("YOU ARE DED METE") which will make the evening special.

When the DJs show up be ready. Do not assume they are the umpteenth pair of hoodie-wearing dogooders showing up on your doorstep at dinnertime who want you to sign a petition demanding clean water in Minnesota. You become the stuff of "nightmare women we've worked for" legend that way.

Do not pat yourself on the back for getting a new memory card for the camera until you have actually located the camera.

A Santa muttering to himself in Yiddish is an especially intriguing treat for the children. Let their parents tell them what "mishegas" means.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Party Time

DIH is hosting her annual St. Nicholas day party tonight. The previous days have been consumed with preparations. So today she feels prepared to offer some helpful hints for the hostess.

1. Read the instuctions on your new iPod. You have no idea how much easier this will make things.

2. Remember that children will eat anythng, or nothing. If they're the sort who eat anything you're golden; if they're the picky variety you couldn't please them anyway, so why stress about it? Make hot dogs and let the chips fall where they may, 'scuse the atrocious pun.

3. Ditto bachelors. Never worry the food won't be good enough. They'll eat anything that isn't walking.

4. Tidy up your bookcases. A messy tower of paperbacks will spoil the decor of any room.

5. Tips on the above:
a. First and foremost hide all those "I'm-a-pathetic-loser" self-help books you've acquired over the years. Better still, toss 'em. If you're not improved by now you're never gonna be, so why have the constant reproach of "You Can Be A Real Adult" around?
b. Ditto the old college-era books you keep thinking you'll read some day. Face it, no one is going to believe you actually read Catullus.

5. Put as much as possible out of reach.

6. Remember that kid who turned on the stove when no one was looking and made that cute little fire in the kitchen? Remember that kennel from the puppy-training days? Now's the time to drag it out of the garage.

I'm sure I'll have more hints after the fact, so stay tuned to this space for all your Christmas season advice needs.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Now That's What I Call News

New Moms at Risk for Wide Range of Mental Problems
By LINDSEY TANNER, AP


'CHICAGO (Dec. 6) - New moms face increased risks for a variety of mental problems, not just postpartum depression, according to one of the largest studies of psychiatric illness after childbirth.'

Like short-term memory loss, long-term memory loss, Barney addiction....


"New dads aren't as vulnerable, probably because they don't experience the same physical and social changes associated with having a baby, the researchers and other experts said.'

Did you hear that? "Experts." Really, really smart and overpaid ones.

"Mental health is crucial to a mother's capacity to function optimally, enjoy relationships, prepare for the infant's birth, and cope with the stresses and appreciate the joys of parenthood," the editorial says.'

They finally figured that one out, huh.....

"Two of the editorial's three authors reported financial ties to the psychiatric drug industry."

Damn. Why couldn't they have worked for Botox? 'New moms desperately need cosmetic surgery." Or maybe Chanel. "New moms must have spiffy new wardrobes." No, wait- why couldnt they have worked for Ferrari?

These reports are always so disappointing.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

The Horse And His Boy

"NEW YORK It was one of the most sensational news stories off 2005, gone but not forgotten (by some): the case of a man from Enumclaw, Wash., who died in the act of [DIH edits here] with a horse -- at a farm known on the Web as the place to go to fufill such fantasies.

Now, inevitably, the incident is the focus of a new documentary, appropriately titled, "Zoo," and recently picked as a selection of next January's Sundance Film Festival, no less. It's being described as a "humanizing" view of a local "normal family" who has a "strange and fatal" encounter. " (Editor & Publisher)

Also selected:

My LIttle Pony
My 'Friend' Flicka
National Velvet!!
Play 'Misty of Chincoteague' For Me
Black Beauty...