Off I go to Rome for a short trip, especially for the sake of the annual Summorum Pontificum pilgrimage.
At the airport, I am already getting Latin inscriptions, or at least photos of the Latin inscriptions.
And a few steps later, more Latin.
I will not be getting either of those books today.
Anyway, I am getting ready to board and, in some exchange of email with my editor at the Catholic Herald, I realize to my horror and panic that I wrote a column for the wrong Sunday of the year. “GAH!”, quoth I. Furiously did I hack and slash something together and send it off and my heart rate is now settling back to normal.
More later.
UPDATE
Having slept for most of the preflight and flight, I took up my book and read – though perhaps not like Augustine under a tree.
New airport new flight.
UPDATE:
Ah the joys of travel. I am in a Delta club at JFK, which, today, is sort of a larger version of the bar in Star Wars.
I’ve had a great time finding a place to light. The first place I tried was fine, until a guy with a lisp and sensitively styled hair perched nearby. Using his outdoor voice and unnecessary hand gestures conveyed to his woman friend how important it was to get her tubes tied. I opted out of the joy of the rest of that one-sided lisping logorrheic audio assault for a table in the “big room”. The clientele come and go in waves, not talking of Michaelangelo, but certainly overusing the word “like”. It’s as if reality is contingent across the board. No, rather, it’s limited vocabulary. No, instead, it’s … it has to do with the content of the book I’m reading.
The book, hasn’t been released yet, and I haven’ had a chance to write about it in another post, but here it is. Do not hesitate. Just order it. It is available for PRE-ORDER at a 24% discount at the time of this writing. There is a KINDLE version, too. Frankly, I’d like to do the audio book recording!
Nostalgia: Going Home in a Homeless World by Anthony Esolen
Tracking back to the unsavory lisping tube-tier, above, as Esolen writes in a characteristically pithy phrase:
“Men are seldom as bad as the worst of their ideas.”
Meanwhile, men out there, women out there who love your men: please, for the love of all that is good, true and beautiful, curtail male lisping.
More later, if I survive the club.
