November 22nd, 2009

SSuiseiseki

Um.

I'm beginning to understand why, given his druthers, Dad preferred to get up as early as possible and attend the first Mass at the chapel. This ensured that he was able to avoid the kind of cantor I and several hundred of my fellow parishioners were subjected to at the 5 PM Mass today. The kind that has a great vocal range and doesn't get that most people don't. The kind that likes to sing EVERYTHING, in spite of the fact that it's not a High Mass. The kind that picks weird Eucharistic Prayers and makes the speakers howl because she can hit the high notes REAL LOUD. The kind that I want to take to the next death metal concert in the area and duct-tape to the stage right in front of the speaker stacks.

The kind that, as Leo Rosten once quipped, on being told of a death in the congregation, would whip out a tuning fork, strike it, and intone, "Gevaaaaalt!"

I'm sure she's really a nice person and not nearly as egotistical as I'm thinking she is. Still, I'm going to the 0630 Mass next Sunday if it kills me. For somebody whose preferred worship style is closer to the Friendlies than to full-blown High Church Catholicism, all this high-falutin' singing (without an organ, even!) gives me a pain in several parts of my body.