December 20: Concern for Your Future, Bad News, Fairy Tale

"Do you feel absolutely no concern for your future, boy?"

Old Spencer asks Holden this question near the very beginning of Catcher.  He's trying to make Holden feel some concern over flunking out of yet another school.  Of course, Spencer makes no impression at all on Holden.  Holden is a little too far gone to accept Spencer's "common sense" talk.

I, on the other hand, have great concern for my future.  The bad news I was expecting last night came late this morning.  I have been playing the organ at my wife's church for close to 15 years.  I am no longer an organist at my wife's church.  The people who hire and fire at the church chose to hire a different organist.  I've been told not to "take it personally."  I'm finding it difficult to follow that advice.

I work for two big organizations.  A university.  A national health care system.  People at these places appear and disappear regularly.  And I'm sure they're told not to take it personally.  Working for a small, local church is different.  I've known the people in this church since my wife and I were dating.  My wife and I were married in this church.  I worked under five different pastors at this church.  I felt safe at this church.  I thought I was family.

I was wrong.

I've been preparing myself for this news for quite some time.  It's been in the works for close to three months.  I've done nothing wrong.  I didn't hold parties with underage kids in the sanctuary.  I never showed up on a Sunday drunk or hungover.  I've gotten phone calls at ten o'clock on a Saturday night and showed up the next morning to play for a sick organist.  I've been dedicated and loyal and dependable.

If I'm sounding bitter and angry at the moment, I'm sorry.  The news is still a little raw.  I'll be better tomorrow.  I'll progress to depressed and despondent.  I know I'll be fine.  It's simply going to take me a while to figure out my next move.  I have just lost $200 a month in income.  That's huge for my family at the moment.

You know, there's this story I know about a church organist name Gregor in the village of Mitchell.

Once upon a time, Gregor the organist got a note from the vicar of the church.  The note read,

Dear Gregor,

Please don't bother showing up for work any more.  We've hired an accordionist to replace you.  We're starting a polka service.

God bless,

Vicar Ted

That morning, lightning struck the steeple of the church, and in a matter of an hour, the entire building was rubble, smoke, and ashes.


Moral of the story:  God hates polkas.

And Saint Marty will live happily ever after.

I didn't show up dressed like this, either