Happy St. Patrick's Day to everyone. No, I'm not going to go out carousing. I'm not going to paint the town green and drink a keg of green beer. I'm too old and have to get up too early for church tomorrow morning. I will celebrate more traditionally. I will watch The Lawrence Welk Show and go to bed. Maybe I'll eat a corned beef and cabbage pizza.
I don't have a lot of time today to write a reflective post. Therefore, I'm going to do a Carol dip. For those of my disciples unfamiliar with this practice, I shall explain it to you. I think of a question. I open my copy of A Christmas Carol, flip through it, and randomly put my finger on a page. Where my finger lands is the answer to my question. It's like using the book as a Magic 8 Ball.
So, here goes...
My question is this: Will I win the poetry contest I entered this week?
And the answer is...
"No, no! There's father coming," cried the two young Cratchits, who were everywhere at once. "Hide, Martha, hide!"
Well, that's shitty. I don't have to look to deeply into that statement to interpret the answer. All I have to do is read the first two words. That isn't quite the answer for which I was hoping. However, it's the answer I got, and I have to live with it.
Saint Marty's gotta run. His daughter's waiting at the dance studio.
Confessions of Saint Marty
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