39 Turn 'round quick and start to run Part 1

How did I get so far from what the nuns taught me? I mean really far. I told you a bit about the church I went to. Pretty intense. The symbolism and iconography was probably as deep as anything you'd see in the US. There were wooden tunnels between different chapels. Little rooms of prayer with rosaries and crutches. Every chapel and nook was built like a grotto. Stone walls. There were even large outdoor cages with exotic birds. Sometimes the peacocks roamed the grounds. We had an underground chapel that burned in 1960. I snuck in there and saw the wreck of the remains. Fallen timbers. Broken imported statues of saints. We had missionary day every Wednesday at school. Out studies were short and had films of those in need around the world. But really what everyone holds in their memory were the films of dreaded diseases (elephantiasis) and parasites. On occasion a missionary priest visited to give us a little talk about how we were compelled to be of service at all times. Give of ourselves.

The priests were a distant breed to me. They lived in the rectory. They got a new car every year and we heard tales of too much wine. Actually, they had a feast of St. Anthony. You've seen it on the Sopranos. There would be a procession where the statue of St. Anthony would be carried. Yeah. There was the money all over the statue. I guess it was supposed to bring good fortune. I always thought "Wow. We're supposed to live conscientious lives, frugal. Give money to the poor." It didn't make sense to me. The priests got their car. Oh well. A carnival. But my mom didn't stand for it. On more than one occasion she called out the hypocrisy and gave the priests a direct tongue lashing. I heard it was yelling.

The nuns were a different story. They really did take vows of poverty. Not one car at the convent in those days. Here's where I tell you how deeply thoughtful I was, in the sense I was always wondering about why we exist. God. Life. The why of everything. In religion class, we would go over parables and stories out of the New Testament. Never the Old Testament. These were progressive Dominican nuns. Not into the fire and brimstone stuff. Not always, but I did ask questions they couldn't answer and I'd get a thump on the head with a heavy book. I remember one of the boys would sass back "Hey, stop hitting her on the head." The boys used to get some severe slapping across the face. There were some real rebels. I remember the principal, Sister "Rose Marie" would attend to the most brutal beatings. The accused was called bold and brazen. I would get nervous and sick from it. I even had medicine to help with queasiness, but I refused to take it. Sister "Rose Marie" would call me into her office. "Please take your medicine." Real nice. I defiantly refused and said "I just want to go home. I don't want to eat lunch."

But the nuns loved me. I would trudge through the snow to bring them bread. They invited me to lunch at the convent a number of times. I saw them in their own chapel. Praying. I'm pretty sure they were hoping I would go into the convent. (evil laugh) Well... there was one lunch in particular that I remember. A couple of the novices were at the table. I don't know how it got onto the subject, but they were beyond giggling talking about boyfriends they once had. Their faces were all shades of crimson, but the talk was of the most innocent variety. I sat there and thought how sad this was. I already was questioning so much, I had no intention of becoming a nun. Especially after this. I was already a gad about town. A real jokester. A disciplined, quiet female class clown. That did it.

Ok. I had to get that Catholic stuff out of the way. It's not an excuse, but just showing how I could make a transition into exploration that went deeper. I was already out of Catholic School for a couple of years or so and getting into hedonistic delights by the time Black Sabbath hit the airwaves. I don't know where I first heard it. Their influence hit me with deep, dark sonar waves.

Just a little while before that I found a book at Levin's Pharmacy. Same place I stole "Steal This Book." They put anything out on the rack. If those hippie kids wanna buy it, they would sell it.

 Wow. Us ex-Catholic School kids had something to get interested in.