I Should Have Had a V8

The first Catholic church I had ever been in was in Long Beach. I was about 7 years old. My sister and I were with a family friend. The family friend was supposed to take us to see the Angels' play. She told us we had to go to Mass first. We didn't know what Mass was. We knew what Church was, but we never called it Mass. It was just Church. My sister and I were so mad when we realized we were going to church. Who went to church on a Tuesday? This church was the biggest one I had ever seen; statues and candles, weird little alcoves, foot rests kneeling pads. We sighed and fidgeted the whole time. We were certain we were going to miss the game. Finally Mass ended. We made our way to Anaheim to watch some baseball. We weren't late at all. We arrived just in time for the National Anthem; of course performed beautifully by Chuck Mangione on his fluglehorn*.

When we thought we were moving to Long Beach, I got The Boy registered at the school run by this particular church. I let the school know we wouldn't be attending. The school must have already contacted their host families because my host family sent me an email today. The host family invited me out to drinks to talk about school. Now I've been a host parent before and I call the family, send them and email and invite them to the welcome parent breakfast, and introduce myself, but I've never thought to invite them out to a pub in the neighborhood. I am totally doing this the next time I am a host parent.




*I don't actually remember who did the national anthem at this game, but I did go to an Angels' game where Chuck Mangione did perform so I am only kind of lying, but maybe not