I cooked Saturday night dinners at the rectory for our priest, visiting Bishops, high roller donators. I was not even Catholic at the time. With a room full of Priests, Monsignors and Bishops, some really good French wine, all Democrat’s in the room, except for me wearing my Firefighters for Bush shirt, the conversations were entertaining if not priceless. This was the ultimate Men’s club. I tried to be the fly on the wall, wine server, but was sucked into most conversations. I stood my ground, held my own, saw a side of the Church most people are not privilege. I do not part take much anymore, but when I travel, I see a beautiful Church, and I go in. Shanghi has one, left over from the English domination of the area, the gate was closed, guarded, no big deal. I make the sign of the cross and start to move on. The guard see's this and pulls us out of the crowd, lets us in, and we sit in this big beautiful Cathedral listening to a Women practice her singing, like listening to and Angel. So I post the movie of a Priest singing for a wedding and think back of a time that affected me in many ways.
I can't remember his name, he was the Bishop to the Marine Corps attached to the White House, He gave me special Dispensation, I was made a Catholic, Cooked him dinner, drank some really good wine. Just another Saturday Night.
