Back in the day when I used to think going to mass made me a better person, I’d always enjoy going to different churches in the city and trying to find the worst priest. Now this was no simple contest. I would judge these men on things like who had the most pointless homily, or longest mass and lowest tolerance for crying children(a person fav). But one of my all time most enjoying categories was their singing. It always ranged from the mildly talented to the tone deaf and painful.

For all of these men I think someone should produce a new reality show called….wait for it…..

VATICAN IDOL!!!

All the clergy participate in this contest across the globe. First, starting on a local level and eventually moving up to regional, state/province wide, and then national. Singing hits like “Though the mountains may fall”, “Eagles wings” and more, all classics from the Catholic Books of worship.

Its really a battle to see who’s the best of the worst. The only thing I can’t decide on, is what the grand prize should be. I’m thinking the winning priest should go straight to being a bishop or cardinal…or a week’s sin-a-palooza at Hedonism in Jamaica or anywhere in Vegas. All expenses paid and full forgiveness awarded at the end of his stay.

NBC, CBS, ABC or FOX please call me. Lets make this happen.

A friend of mine had a great perspective on funerals the other day. Now, I’m sure all of us are familiar with the eulogy that goes something along the lines of “We shouldn’t be sad that johnny’s dead, he died doing what he loved, he loved his job as a rodeo clown and thats how he would have wanted to go”

Well, I think that’s bullshit. If that happens to me, I want people to be truthful. “Sure, at the time of Mike’s death he was doing what he loved, he loved playing 2nd base for the Blue Jays but I sure bet if he had a choice he would’ve given that up to be jerking off a horse for $3 an hour if it meant he’d still be alive”.

As the pages turn the clock follows
Time never ceases according to our pain
We can cry
We can scream
We can plead to the stars
It has unfeeling arms
Two hands that spin never to stop
So goes the motto of the clock
If you close your eyes
Awaken your mind
Time has now been yielded
I see myself with the mistakes that I’ve made
I see the smiles upon my face
We cannot change
Nor can we relive
So our eyes they open again
The hands continue
Life does the same
Excuse me while I close my eyes again

Michael Joseph Cecchin