Note. Dr. Ellison this title is not completely mine. I am not that sharp. The husband of the family I am living with used it when he first heard I might go from baptist to catholic. If you have to take off points I will understand.


From Nashville to Rome

I was brought up a baptist. I went to church almost every sunday. When I was nine I was saved. I was not sure what that meant, I thought it meant I would not go to hell. To be a christian was not to smoke, not to dance, not to cuss, not to do bad things to yourself like self abuse. A lot of times I felt like the preacher was looking straight at me, because I had done all of these things by fifteen.

As I got older I begin to not go church if I could think of an excuse. I would say I was sick, or I hurtt my arm in the friday night football game. Then my older brother got in trouble, they call it joy riding, taking another persons car. I felt bad. Maybe he was in trouble because I was not good. So I tried to be better and better but I only got worse and worse as I wrote before.

My friend Glenn had a great uncle in the nearby big city and I visited Jack and his wife Alice many times. Alice was catholic and Jack was epispocalian. Jack did not go to church much but Alice went every week. She never ask us to go with her to church but we decided one weekend to go with her. We had heard catholics spoke in a foreing speech, that they wore long robes, used insense, and thought Mary was God. We were really surprised. We understood every word, they spoke in English and I can not remember them saying Mary was God. We went back to that church many times with Alice. At the end of the service the people would line up to take communion. Everybody lined up. A man they said was the richest man in the city and some poor mexicans. They seemed to be all the same. We ask Alice if we could get in the line. She said you cannot take communion but you can go up and the priest will bless you. We did and for some reason when the minister put his hand on my head and said "God bless you" that made me feel good. So we decided we wanted to be catholics. We especially liked the sermons. They were about helping others and not just about clean living.
When I told Jack what I was thinking he said "so you want to go from Nashville to Rome." I did not understand but he explained that the baptist headquarters was in Nashville and the catholic headquarters was in Rome. I wanted to make the trip.
I like the baptist. They have some great songs. "Blessed assurance Jesus is mine, o what a fortaste of glory devine" and my favorite" Just as I am without one plead, but that they blood was shed for me." I think the plead meant excuse.
Another thing happened which I will tell later. But I joined what they call a rcia class. I am still in the class, but one thing scared me. About a month ago a priest I did not know called me out of class and said"are you sure you want to be catholic or are you just being nice to Alice?" I did not know if he was telling me not to come back. My famly was going to Texas for thanksgiving so I did not know whether to go with them or stay for class. I wrote a guy on the internet and he said stay and go to class. On thansgiving morning a priest who had helped me once, I will tell later how he helped me, called and ask Jack if he could come by for just a couple of minutes. I knew he was going to tell me not to come back. He came by and said he was looking forward to me at the class, then he gave me a little prayer book, put his hand on my head and said "Frank, God lives you." Before he had always said God bless you. Jack and Alice and I all noticed the difference.
So I guess I am on the road to Rome. I really want to get there. I think I will be better and happy. Frank

Hit by Reality

I had a good senior year. I was named best football player at my school. I was all-conference and made third team all state. I thought I was on top of the world.

The prom was coming up in the spring and I wanted to get a good date. The head cheer-leader and me were kind of friends. Her dad was the Methodist minister in town. I ask her in early March if she would go to the prom with me, she said yes but the next day she called and told me her parents would not let her go with me.

Then the football thing. 3 small schools in our state said they would give me a football scholarship. Not Noter Dame, Oklahoma, Texas but little not important schools. They said will give you a scholarship we just need to check your overall character record and let you know. None of them ever contacted me again. I was bad, but not that bad, I thought. I was never in a fight, the teachers seem to like me, I never took hard drugs, I had never had any runin with the police.

I wanted to go to college and there was a community college in the nearby big city. But there was also a big time school that was very expensive. Jack said why don't you try the big time schhool. Jack went to work. He had spoken at the important school many times over the years and never charge them a fee. And he went to a big wheel at the school and said he wanted a favor. Let me go there on a tral basis. The school said alright but I would have to live with Jack and Alice and be a good citizen. It was really expensive so they got me a parttime job in the student union cafeteria busing tables. I was really thrilled that this school would let me try.

I guess I need to say who Jack and Alice are. Jack is the great uncle of my good friend Glenn. Alice is his wife. She is much younger than Jack and has some different ideas. She thinks boys and men are under a lot of presure. People expect them to always be able to handle things and never to bee too emotional. She thinks boys and men need help to.

Jack helped me with my assignments, Alice taught me how to hold by fork amd how to dress. They gave me the biggest bed room in their house with a TV and a pretty old desk. The kids at school were nice. They came from every state and had never heard of my little town. But they were still nice. I got by the first semester, but just barely. I did a little better the second semester. But in the early summer when they send you your grades I was afraid they would say you cannot come back. I waited everyday for the mail. One day a letter came from the school. I hate to admit it but my hands shook a little. The letter started out "Welcome back". I ran into the house and hugged Jack and Alice as hard as I could. I think I cried a little.

I had been hit hard many times in football. But being hit by reality was so much harder. I did not want to be a hero from nowhere. Now I thought with evey body helped me I might be just something. That night when I went to bed I tried to thank Jesus for what he had send me.

the Scarlett Scar

The scarlett Scar.

Some of the men in my little town took pride in how they pun,ish their boys. The standard practice was a whipping with a belt, and my father was in that group. From about age 6 he would whip me with his belt when I was bad, and I guess this was quite a bit.

The one I remember best was when I was 17 in the 11th grade. He caught me doing something that boys sometimes do but don't tell there folks. He made me lay on the bed, take off my shirt and then whipped me 20 times with his belt. His belt had little medal pieces on it and they could make you bleed a little.After he did this he sat on the side on the bed and cried, I don't know why. Maybe he thought I was going to be just like my older brother who got in trouble, maybe he was sorry. I don't know.

After he left the room my mother came in and put some stuff on the places that were bleeding. It kind of embarassed me to say she took off my shoes and sox but that made me feel a little better. I know this is silly but it kind of reminded me of when I was little. She said "Frank I am proud of you and I will always love you."

Well the scars are still there. Jack and Alice took me to a plastic surgon to see if he could fix them. He said he could but it would be very expensive. Jack and Alice are so kind to me but they did not have the money for the skin crafts.

I was embarassed to take off my shirt when we played side yard football. But Jack told me about a book called "The Scarlett Letter" about a women who had to were A scarlett letter on her dress because she had committed a sin. Jack, who is always upbeat with me said tell anyone who ask that the marks were your scarlett scars and forget about it. Then he said something I did notunderstand at first. "You cary the scarlet scars but you kept others from having to cary them." When I went to bed that night I tried to figure what he meant. I think best just before I go to sleep. It came to me. I had the scars but when I married and had kids they would never have scarlett scars. I don't know how to pray but I thanked Jesus for letting me see what Jack meant. I promise. Noone I take care of will ever have to wear a scarlet scar. Frank

THE HERO FROM NOWHERE

I was born some 23 years ago in a little town of about 5,000. My little town is 25 miles from a pretty big city. When I was in grade school the teachers thought I would be a good athlete. I was big and tall for my age.

When I got to junior high in the ninth grade I was good anough in Foorball to play for the high school team. In fact I was the only 9th grader to start. By the 10th grade I was over six feet tall and about 170 pounds. I was one of our best players. My dad got lots of attention at the cafe, and the barber shop, and other places. His friends told him how good I was. He liked it because my older brother had got in trouble and dad was ashamed of him.

After the games the older players ask me to go with them. Some one would get a beer and we would go to a small lake near the town. There were girls there and the older boys we tease me to become a man. I did not know what to do but they told me how and pushed me to be a man. It was very awkward but I finally did what they said. I was fifteen and could have said no but wanted there approval. This happened several times.

It was fun being a big wheel at the school and in our little town and my dad was really pleased. I don't mean to blame others but the attention I got was hard for me to deal with so I just went along.

In the tenth grade we played an epispocal school from the big city. We won and I scored two touchdowns. There had been a little story in the big city paper about me and after the game one of there coaches came over to me and said "so you are the hero from nowhere. I still don't know if he meant mean or was just joking. I did not think much of it until I went to bed that night. May be I was a important person but was I from nowhere. Were the older boys laughing at my awkard attempts at being a man. Were the girls who really seem to like me talking about me having a bad reputattion. Was I really just a little guy from nowhere even if I was a foorball star was I what the coach said. A hero from nowhere. Then I went to sleep.

Anna you have been nice to me, I wonder if you could do me a favor. In my English II class at college the teacher wants us to write short compositions about ourselves and have someone else read them. The other person who reads them just needs to say 1. they can understand what you are saying which Dr. Ellison thinks is the point of writing. Then he will check for gramar and spelling, punctuation and other things. Dr. Ellison also wants the first reader to say if they think the title is right for what I wrote. Of course you do not have to do this but Jack thought you would be a good person to look.
My temporary topics are: The hero from nowhere. The scarlett Scar, Hit by Reality, From Nashville to Rome, The Accident. Would you do this? I would appreciate it. Frank

RCA is back

This is RCA. Do you remember?

I really out of the loop here. I'm back in town because I bought Jack and Alice's house and they have built a very fine 'condo' type addition on Meg and Jimmy's house. I'm a detail man so I've been here several weeks, and will probably stay till early December fixing up details.

I don't want to get into fights, but as you might recall I responded to M...'s ugly email to Jack. Jack and I love to debate, and, as you know, I'm a bit anti-catholic. The little scanning of the blogs leaves me with 3 conclusions. I find your position hard to follow as you would expect but I see no hint of the hypocrite in what I have read from you. Jack is basically very nice and what he has done for others over the years is amazing; but to those who don't know him he clearly gives the impression of intemperance. As for M..., I find his effort to deflect responsibility for the child abuse scandal revolting. I see exactly what Jack says about his method, and to be frank it stirs up my anti-catholicism. But let's end on a happy note. Great to see your thoughts. O. by the way Jack is letting Frank do the posting the rest of this week as a class project at his college. RCA

Changed strategy

Ah, apparently I've been banned for heresy. I do want to add to my previous post that Vatican2 encouragement of the laity has made the church much safer. That council led to some ugly exposures but has led to public consciousness which had led, in my opinion, to fewer incidents of abuse.

The effort of some to reverse the responsibility is "back to the old tricks" posturing. This new strategy to cover the guilty by blaming societal changes will be bought by many. I notice our dioscesan paper has started, emphasizing that a former bishop found 3 married clergy in the diocese!!! And, of course Vatican2 played its part. I guess I should be happy to know that priests are no more likely to abuse the young than traveling salesmen. I have always thought that clergy were no more likely to abuse others than other occupational groups. I just thought we could expect higher standards from priests. Jack

Excuses, excuses.

Of course, power is the key. Frankly, like Hitchock, I'm afraid ot the police. They carry firepower om their belts that could blow me from here to eternity. Would they punished. Probably not, because the policeman would claim I reached in my pocket, which was a threatening move. The policemen know that they have the sympathy from the public. I thought of this as I read a comment on another blog throwing out excuses for clerical sexual abuse. It was from my favorite "catholic" apologist, who pretends thoughtful neutrality but always comes down to defend any catholic abuse, one of the true old time bigots.

I notice in my diocesan paper a slap at Vatican 2 hinting that pedophiles were spawned by that Council. What rot!!! I lived as an adult throught the fifties and sixties (and since) and the church had its wierdos then as it has today. The only thing today that is different is that some persons are willing to speak up.

Please, make no mistake. The ultra-conservative wing of today's church is fighting for many things. And one and a prominent one is the right of a cleric to do what he wants and NOT BE HELD ACCOUBTABILITY, as their special relationship to God entitles them. This of course will not be read by may favorite bigot. If by chance it should be he'll toss you a German word, pretend to be objective, and come out with his backup excuse. Jack

the fool

this is alice. i haven't posted for a long time. gets too rough for me. but i do want to comment on frank's treatment. jack and frank are good christians. i'm not that good; i can't forgive his father. his father was disappointed with frank's older brother, so he thought he could beat frank into goodness. but it doesn't work that way. i've seen the belt his father used on him, with its metal brads every quarter of an inch. i've seen frank's back. and the scars. when we took care of him and we had to change his clothes, i saw the scars on his legs; yes, and even on his backside. o yes there were more than a few whippings--i call them beatings. so frank when you read this i say your father scared your fine god-given body. but that belt could not reach your heart. maybe in a couple of years you will find the "right" girl. and your kids will have a fine, fine father. maybe i can learn to forgive. alice.."A fool made wise by pity."

Thanks from Frank

I'have never done a post. Jack Alice and everyine is gone and Jack set this up to allow me to make a post.

I want to thank Jack who has helped me so much in bad health.
I want to thank Alice who always helps stray animals and who thinks stray boys need help to.
I want to thank Anna for staying with Jack and I think she cares for me
I want to thank Liam for litening and helping I wish I had been his friend years ago.
I want to thank the catholic church for carry for me evem thou I can never meet their standard
I want to thank my parents, my dad was hard on me but he thought he was doing right
I want to thank my mother especially the time she let me be a little boy after my whipping
I want to thank Father (blank) who got me the medicine and still cares for me
I want to thank Jesus for still loving me despite what I have done.

I could go on there are others but thanks to all. Frank

The s-x contract

As opposed to catholic tradition, which one of my critics seems to imply that as a 2 week catholic I can not speak to catholic issues, I intend to expound on the church and s-x in a few posts.

Today's topic is on the s-x contract which I believe is a more adequate name for the marriage contract. This s-x contract as celebrated in most churches is the permission of the church celebrating the ceremony for two poeple to engage in s-x acts or indeed to allow s-x thoughts. Strike s-x thoughts or actions and substitute "unitive" acts or "possibly procreative acts." 5 young men sit at a wedding and, with various degress of envy, realize their best friend is now free, within limits, of course, to engage in acts and thoughts that they are forbidden to do and have. Their married friend has joy. The others have only cold showers to look forward to.

For example, and as a catholic I would advise thusly: should they see a commercial movie at their girl friends that shows a little 'love making' they should say,"Pardon me dear, I need to take a cold shower." As they leave that evening they should tape their months shut in case a 'good night' kiss trigger lust.

For married couples I suggest the following changes in vocabulary. Substitute "Let's have a little unity tonight" rather than crude alternatives. All good christians should carry a "cold shower bag" around their waists should they see an attractive member of the opposite sex on the street, such bag to be activated by a small battery carried in the armpit.

The words "s-exual organs" should be banned and be replaced with "unity organs" or "possibly procreative organs." Possibly "reproductive organs" could still be allowed if
the person can submit an affadavit that he gets no pleasure, only unity feelings, from s-x.

All catholic elementary kids should be taught never, and I mean NEVER, to touch their unity organs even in bathing in the remote chance it might spark a thought which would bar them from ever being elected pope. Possibly an exception for girls for obvious reasons.

One final suggestion at this time. Disconnect your hot water heater so only cold showers are possible. A bit extreme, but we can never be too careful. Jack

A learning experience--

I'm in the doghouse with what I liked to call "friends"---I'm quite sure they do not think of me as a friemd or even an aquaintance. I must say that I don't even recognize myself in some of the negative responses I have gotten. Mis-using anon. Gee I thought of myself as one of the few commenters who gave their name. Ad hominen attacks, non sequiturs on and on. That sure doesn't sound like me, but that's what some say. So I will try to stay off blogs I like, but I will make some comments on my blogging experience. And some of the things I've leared.

My first blogging experience was with Joe Cecil. Looking back I see he allowed all points of view to be expressed. My recent experiences have not been that salutary. Most, but not all, bloggers I have found recently will allow a certain amount of disagreement, but become quite unsettled if they are disagreed with, especially if the commenter is not totally immersed in catholic culture. They then label, if not immersed in that tradition, the commenter as engaging in personal attacks. It really is a small catholic world they're interested in. These bloggers know all the saints, all the holy days, and quaint stories about monks in Ireland(?) and jazz musicians. Some of these bloggers call themselves liberal or moderate catholics but 'arch' up like a cat cornered by a Rotweiler if you really question any basic catholic teaching.. Each blogger has his own club, divided between realatively perceptive commenters and sycophants---"Oh, Bob what you said was just so "zowie."

And listen, they are Catholic to the core. They were either brought un Catholic or recent converts, considering C S Lewis and G K Chesterton the sine qua non of philosophy. Forget Plato, Spinoza, Kant, after all they were not catholic enough.

On a lighter side, one of my critics chides me for not revealing everything to my wife, apparently including all sexual thought and actions over 75 years. I pray he follows his own advice and his wife writes them down. Everything from age 8 to 50(?). Every 'naughty' thought, every secret fantasy, every titilation,( if he has experienced any of the three)--smile. what a contributions to science. The first complete history of every sexual thought experienced by one man. Lecture tours, maybe even a movie--certainly a Burns documentary!!!! Maybe even a Larry King experience.

Oh, I know these catholic liberals and moderates. A fine wine, a slightly off-color joke about B16 (tee hee) and a new set of rosay beads.

Before I wrote any of this , my wife, who has no, I repeat NO non=catholic ancestors and not even knowing I was going to write this told me last night as we returned from a really posh--and man I mean a REALLY posh liberal catholic party "Aren't catholics an interesting group. They know every saint, every holy day---they were brought up that way and can't help it."

So back to the start. If any one reads this remember I am on the forbidden blogger list. Don't read this. Go back to thinking about the old monk and the jazz musician.
See you tomorrow. Got to go tell my wife I had a S-- thought. Jack

Name calling

For any of you who might be interested, my last comment, censored by Jeff on his blog was "I invite any reasonable person to decide if I fit"touchy old bastard" better than he fits "arrogant little twerp. No syncophants, please"

More on this in the days ahead.

Anna. Almost finished moving. My non-RCIA reception was excellent. Priest even payed for the good work of my previous church (anglican) in nurturing me in the Christian faith. My crusade took almost three years but with the help of you and others, I maintained my integrity. It was worth it, as several catholics told me in the last few days. Much more later. Thanks, thanks again. Jack

Anna, Liam, Jeff-----My thanks

By this time next week I will be RC. I am glad, of course. You bloggers out there have been very helpful. Dear Anna, who is always there; Liam , who has helped three boys who need help; Jeff who knows me better maybe than I know myself. And there are others who have shown an interest in me , my family, and Frank especially. But I would not be true to myself if I did not say my one regret on blogdom is "sick mike." I think he comments on Jeff's blog where we had a little dispute and Mike sent me a...well...sick email. My counsin RCA who is back in town this week, and who is not very sympathetic to catholicism, is most distressed that I would belong to anything associated with "sick mike." Jeff does not want me on his blog, but continuues, it seems to me, to pander to "sick mike."But the comments above give me something for my first "reconciliation." Thanks. Jack