First Date with New Church

Well after the run in with fate, timing and testing last night at the church, Humanling and I decided to roll on over there Sunday morning and check it out.

Well, after going to breakfast. And running into her best friend's mom and having another possible moment of universal reasoning for being in the same place at the same time. More on that another time after I contact Ex-Hoo Hah McBlah Blah's lawyer to run things past her.

It's hard not to arrive slightly early when you live next door to the church. We squeezed into a pew, third from the back, following the unwritten pact that I made with the Clergy last night that I can remain incognito. I have been through the whole standing and introducing myself to a host of people that I will feel guilty running into at some point when I don't return to their church. "Yes, it was because of YOU. I didn't like your screaming infant that you refused to take out of the room. THAT's why we don't go there anymore. Well, nice to see you."

If you allow me to keep my Zsa Zsa Gabor mask on and just keep silent, this will never have to happen.

The church itself was bright and I was comfortable. I was hoping for a little more horseradish in my spirit but it was better than I'd expected. The priest was cool and sent me away with a couple of good things. Like a Prada handbag and coupon for a free sundae! Not really. He spoke of how people view God as this rock with a mouth that doesn't move. Just this stiff, detached being. But how God is more like a fountain of youth. Hmm....I liked that. Reminds me of a good meditation...only with God flowing through instead of a waterfall. Nice. Ok, I can do that on a meditation. Next time I remember to meditate. After I remember to find my soul mate, get married, have help with the house and am told to Quit Working Honey, Just Stay Home.

Then he spoke of how God gave man dominion over the earth and the animals. Depending on where this was going, I might have to suppress the PETA flag that was threatening to unfurl, like when Rudolph's red nose went off in front of everyone for the first time.

But then he said something that completely resonated with me. That God gave us dominion over the earth and animals, not to do as we pleased with for our own purposes, but for the good of all. Imagine if everyone actually thought that way for half the day. The other half can be slept off so we don't indulge in the materialistic greed that makes us look so ridiculous to aliens.

Did I say aliens and God in the same paragraph? Huh. I suppose I did. But to me, we weren't the only ones created. I'm pretty sure God can juggle a few planets at once.

There was however the typical white band that did a Nice job. Something about the TWB really exchanges my heart rate for the straight green line. I can't do the TWB. I want the soul shaking, dancing, stomping, hand raising stuff that I will never see in this type of church.

Before Humanling was swept off into Sunday school, she sat dutifully - no, not even dutifully - CHEERFULLY and UNRESERVEDLY singing as loud as she wanted, lyric sheet in hand, with the TWB. I think she's sneaking out at night and has been singing with these guys on fences and streetlit corners.

I looked up at the huge stained glass portrait of Jesus and thought, well, if I can't feel what I know I'm capable of feeling, here in this nice church, at least here is my baby. I am going to hand her to you and let you get her potential, as my parents should have done with me. Instead I found myself in some boring catechism on Thursday nights where I'd pick my nose and leave it in the pencilcase inside the desk of some kid who sat there during the day.

I did pass on the bread portion of the morning and for a really neurotic reason. The very cool priest ripped it up with his bare hands. AFTER shaking hands with everyone in the church five minutes beforehand. I would need mine marinated in the wine after that. Next week I will have to watch and see if he takes a Holy Purell break before handling ingestibles.

I tore off before the refreshment hour. After all, why get it all on the first date? They need to get me back there again.

Brother Can you Spare 600 Dimes?

I may have mentioned that the little Humanling and I live in a neighborhood that has access to everything that a private island could possibly put on their rider. Including panhandlers. Make that singular - Panhandler.

I've worked in NYC and have dealt with professional dollar diggers. Eventually, it is possible, even for a Save The Worldish weeping willow like me to callous up the retinas and look past these people while also ignore the handout speech of anyone who isn't touching you. Where I live, the same protocol seems almost bizarre.

It's a small town, focused primarily on its downtown. Everyone to be seen sits lazily outside on the green, walks up and down the main strip or looks penetratingly unapproachable sucking down their coffee at the eccentric coffee house. Anyone that I haven't listed is probably ordering a dollar draft and a jagermeister shot at the bar next to the railroad tracks. At one point if I had installed a camera in Cavey's primal head of hair, I would have had the much awaited Beer Channel, in said bar's exotic locale.

After a packed day, Humanling and I decided to go for a walk while it was still light out. It took us about 25 minutes to go about 50 yards since she decided to bring her flimsy plastic skateboard with her. When we passed a church that we pass reguarly, we decided to look in the door, which we've never done. Through the window, like a literature stalker, I was checking for pamphlets that I would take sometime when the church was actually open so that I could learn about one of the 5000 different denominations of Catholicism. A woman came and opened the door. It's basically near 8pm on a Saturday night. She invited us in and gave us a tour of the church. She also told Humanling to go right ahead and tickle the church ivories and get right up to the altar to check things out. She had no fear of HL's little potentially destructive fingers tainting anything in the centenarian building.

In the middle of listening to HL's musical staff defiance, a man walked in the door and started talking to the clergy, who had been showing us around. As I coaxed my musical genius off God's piano bench and made our way to the pew where the plastic skateboard had been sitting, the man looked over and asked clergy for six dollars. He must have. It didn't register with me right away but I did hear her say no. Then without a beat, he named me "Miss" and asked me the same question.

It's amazing how our brains work in a matter of mere seconds. I stopped myself from asking "What for?" because.....well....we're not married. I don't know him. I suppose it doesn't matter What For. My next thought was "Only if you don't buy booze with it. And give it to my ex husband". I really was thinking about a booze restriction clause. And again, realized that I was fighting controlling the situation somehow. And then the absurdity of it all. I am invited into a closed church, a man walks in during my pre-date with church and asks me for money. And not even a dollar. Six dollars. Without saying another word, I took out my wallet and pushed past a $50 bill. I found seven dollars and gave him the six.

He did say thank you - not overly and abundantly expressed, but mentioned nontheless.

I wasn't bullied into this. I could have said no.

I could have said sorry, don't have my wallet on me.

Sorry, I am a single parent trying to keep my head above water while I am going through an expensive divorce that so far has siphoned $3500 out of me and resulted in me dropping my lawyer and most likely obtaining a shiny new ulcer while I go Pro Se and represent myself against my ex's lawyer who does double duty as a Judge.

But how do you turn down 'helping' someone while standing in front of a stained glass mural of Jesus? Plenty of people reading ths would have an answer for that. I am fortunate enough to have the money to give. By no means am I with disposable income. But I did have six dollars to spare, next to the $50 that was given to me today during a moment so rare, it could have been the 8th wonder of the world.

The man left with his huge backpack. The clergy woman apologized to me and insisted on writing me a check for the six dollars, while telling me how nice that was. I felt like that moment when you bump your head on the car after trying to duck into the back seat to get something. That moment where you know something happened but for a second are trying to register the what and the how.

I told her not to worry about it. That the whole thing was so random - the tour and the man - that it was meant to be that way for whatever reason, that I can pay it forward because people have helped me.

Tomorrow morning we may just be checking out this new church. Especially since I cleared it ahead of time that we are allowed to be incognito and that no white spotlight will land on us, prompting me to tell everyone who we are and why we are there, while showing off my favorite shade of crimson.

I could be called a sucker, and that's ok. Believe me, if that's the worst thing I can go through, I'll start monogramming the towels now.