Welcome Pope Frank!
I guess Pope Benedict was too pooped to continue popeing.
Like so many things,
religious, the choosing of a pope is shrouded in mystery, requiring
mental imagery, rather than broadcast-ready action and drama.
At the same time, it’s an ancient spectator sport – a bit sedate,
but far less deadly than most of the games from the late Roman
Empire. We join together and focus on a port-a-chimney placed atop
the Sistine Chapel, and wait to see what 100 guys in red hats are
smoking. We cheer for the white smoke (usually Jamaican, but maybe
this time, Argentinean.) I’m never disappointed by the black smoke
though. It means OVERTIME, and the secondary high keeps on going.
Of course, I’m not in Rome, and as my buddy didn’t order the
hi-def smell feature on his new flat-screen, all my hopes of rockin’
with the Vatican went up without smoke.
(Children – Headley Hauser in no way endorses the use of illegal
substances for recreational purposes, be it marijuana, papal ballots,
or shiitake mushrooms, diced fine, dried with chive, oregano, and a
light vinaigrette.)
(First time I’ve ever written ‘shiitake’ in anything – pretty
disgusting mental imagery)
Forty-odd (or even) years
ago, Tom Lehrer wrote a song, The Vatican Rag.
Make a cross on your abdomen
When in Rome, do like a Roman
Ave Maria
Gee
it’s good to see ya.
Doin’
the Vatican Rag
(copyright Vatican
Rag by Tom Lehrer MCML something-something)
Professor Lehrer offered his paean to Catholic propagation in a time
of significant change for the Holy Roman Catholic Church. His
thinking (as he said on his album,) was that if the church really
wanted to sell the product, it needed to appeal to the people in the
modern vernacular. He then presented a song in a musical style that
was a generation and a half out-of-date.
These are different times for the Rome team. People aren’t talking
Vatican 2 anymore (so good – you’ll forget all about Vatican 1.)
They’re pissed.
They’re pissed about discrimination, gay rights, birth control,
abortion, the price of gas (which I’m told has nothing to do with
Church, but it’s bugging me, so I’m including it.)
They’ve also just about had enough of ‘celibate’ priests
instructing the youth in ways not found in the catechism. Of course
priests have been doing this as long as Cardinals have been smoking
papal ballots, and reformers have repeatedly discussed putting an end
to it. Maybe we’ve reached the two millennia procrastination
limit.
Recent popes have been
firm, but apologetic in their response to this growing
dissatisfaction. Pope John Paul 2 (who hung out nearly thirty years
in the funny hat to make up for the first John Paul, who skipped the
mortal coil before the lacquer on his ruby slippers was dry,) was so
sweet and endearing that people almost forgot why they’d been
genuflecting with middle finger extended.
That was not going to work long-term. How many guys in Cardinal
University (or is it still just a college?) remind you of your
favorite childhood teddy-bear?
I think the blessed Tom
Lehrer – may he rest on his couch (‘cause I think he’s still
alive – though freaky old. If he’s dead, the couch might not be
the best place for him.) had the right idea in bringing out-dated
musical forms to the church issues of the day. Using his of
out-of-date algorithm (he did teach math,) our generation and a half
interval leaves us with a wonderful selection of music from the late
60s through the early 80s.
But the tone has to change as well as the form. The Vatican Rag was
upbeat, optimistic – you could almost see the dancing altar boys,
glad-hands flashing (careful with those mental images, Friar.) The firm but
apologetic approach won’t work either, not only is it unworkable,
it severely limits the music available.
Remember the classic Ali-Forman fight
years before George started selling hamburger makers?
Well, it looks like the Cardinals decided they’ve been riding the
ropes long enough – no more pope-a-dope. They picked a Jesuit.
Time to kick some acolytes!
So what theme can we
create for our new Pope Frank?
I’d eliminate Barry Manilow off the top – his music doesn’t
fit, and everybody out there secretly wants to eliminate Barry
Manilow.
(Mental image of B.M. being eliminated – is he gone? Don’t
forget to flush.)
Even without Barry’s one hundred and sixty-seven identical chants,
we still have a number of potential anthems for our pleasantly
pugilistic Pope.
What about (Every) Mother’s Son Bites the Dust?
(Bit of a stretch? What was I going to change it to – Another
Nun Bites the Dust? No, I don’t like hate mail unless it’s
from people giving me money.) All you need is to add a few smells
and bells, and it sounds aggressively liturgical.
Play That Funky Music, Padre would have the dual effect of
intimidation, and getting congregants groovin’ on those kneelers
instead of scooting to the front of their seats and faking it.
There has to be a way to adapt Everybody Was Kung-Fu Fighting.
You like that one Papa Frank? I’ll work on it for you.
Maybe you could even turn around that back-room altar-boy problem
with a little James Brown - Get Up (I Feel Like Being A) Sex
Monsignor.
?
Maybe not? Just throwing it out there.
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