Hark! Those herald angels stopped singing. The holiday’s pffft. Rock Center tree’s headed for toothpicks. Donder is yonder with Blitzen. Dolly Parton’s chestnuts won’t roast by any open fire. And Santa’s in the deep freeze.
Me, I’ve rested my kvetching. Unknotted my weary brain which was turning rusty.
And I asked one connected with Way Upstairs what’s on for us for 2024:
His Eminence our New York Archbishop Timothy Cardinal Dolan: “In school I wasn’t good in science except now I can mix chemicals into a good martini. Listen, sometimes God’s tough to pin down.
“Today we’re having more hell than heaven. Our America always prized religion. Didn’t care what it was. Nonbelievers received the same respect. Faith always had a dominant role. Stats say that’s diminishing. No wonder there’s violence. Crime. Drugs. Suicide. It’s a big fat mess because we’ve forgotten the real God.
“Olden days St. Patrick’s was jammed. Crying, lighting candles, praying for a return to the Lord. Crisis or tragedy, people always first said, ‘Oh, my God.’
“It’s don’t go to church anymore. Most leave religion. They now have none. Not Catholic, Episcopalian, Presbyterian, nothing. They don’t have any.
“The whole thing’s gone down. It’s selling grass, cannabis, on the street. Makes me nervous. I don’t want to think about giving up and returning to Missouri where I’m from. I’d switch to Buddhism first.
“Recently I was up in Wallkill. With the prisoners. For Mass. Then, with all my duties I had to leave. They wanted me to stay but I couldn’t. If I didn’t have this job, I’d have stayed longer.”
Me: Oh, please. You a simple person? Doing normal everyday stuff? I’ve been in your residence. Seen people falling down in front of you. I don’t see you gardening, mowing lawns, dusting, visiting or cleaning up your own dishes.
“You got a point. I don’t think I’ll do that either.”
Later on, would you be allowed to marry?
“No. Why, you proposing? I’ve seen you look at my jewelry with envy.”
His Eminence then explained his off-hours: “Can’t sleep, I put on slippers and in robe and pajamas make a cup of decaffeinated tea. With honey — and maybe a little Irish whiskey. I’ll walk around empty St. Patrick’s. Candles are on. Always a police officer in it. I’m not alone. I feel at home. I believe the Lord’s living there.
“I think of Pearl Harbor days. 9/11 days. Hurricane Sandy aftermath. We came together. We came through. Today we’re disjointed. We’ve forgotten ‘One nation under God.’
“Look, I love this place. I love New York. I worry seeing protests. Atrocities. Swastikas. I’m saying, ‘Oh, Lord, this isn’t the New York I came to love, call home, cherish.’ I worry about my city. Not much we can do with that stuff out there but we got to start with ourselves. Take care of ourselves. Nurture the faith within. Know it’s an ember not a flame. We cannot all burrow in our holes afraid.
“We have got to walk the streets, smile, help, pray and hold hands instead of fists.”
But (this from me, not His Eminence): Be it known in this country religion is different, because in Hollywood are Catholics who give up matzo balls for Lent.
Only known in New York, kids, only known in New York.