Wednesday, November 06, 2002

I had a bit of a regular blog here a moment ago. But I lost it. And I'm too tired to retype the whole thing. It had to do with...some stuff you'll probably get to hear tomorrow. Anyway, instead, you get an obscure story about a long deceased ancestor of mine, who's always inspired me. As it's election day, it has a bit of a political bent. But it also goes a bit toward explaining the deep seated anti-Baptist bias in me.

My great-grandfather, Marty Britt, was a socialist and a lapsed Catholic. He was also an avid hunter and fisherman. One Sunday, he decided to go fishing. So he packed up his gear, and started out. He was walking down the street when a Baptist minister called out to him: "Mr. Britt, it's the Lord's Day. You shouldn't be fishing. You should be in church. I'd be delighted if you'd join us." Marty Britt looked at the preacher a moment, and he said: "Father," and you know it's good if he's starting out calling the Baptist minister 'father.' "Father, you'll find me and mine in your pews the day you start preaching the doctrine of organized labor." The story's better told than read, as my great-grandfather had a rather distinctive Irish accent. But the man had a point. Needless to say, the preacher made way for Marty Britt.

My great-grandfather is also remembered in my family because he had the odd quirk of refusing to ride in an enclosed vehicle. He was afraid if the breaks went out, or if something else catastrophic happened, he wouldn't be able to jump out. So he always insisted, regardless of how cold or rainy or snowy the weather was, that the windows be rolled down. He's a hero of mine, he is.

And he shaped my theological leanings too. There's a famous story in my family about how Marty Britt fell ill and everyone thought he was about to die. They asked him if he wanted the priest brought to him for last rights. He said no, send for the Episcopalian priest instead (which is what my great-grandmother was). He said: "I didn't live up to the standards of the Catholic Church in life, I'll be damned if I'll call for her on my death." I have a very similar philosophy. I plan on making no deathbed confessions. We'll march straight down to hell if necessary, but we're not going to be hypocritical about the thing.

In any case, goodnight, dear readers. I'll try to be more interesting soon. I just feel sort of personality-less at the moment. I've been sucked down into the void that is educationism. All school and no play makes Sarah's a dull blog. Pray the saints for a few days off for me, eh kids? I could use them.