The Contentious ‘Op-Ed’ Days

 I bet you didn’t know that years ago I was an opinion columnist. For quite a while my essays appeared about once per month on the op-ed pages of this newspaper.

 
Usually, I wrote about the two subjects my mother told me never to discuss in polite company: religion and politics. The pro-life and pro-captialism views I expounded back then were shaped by my Catholic faith and my experience in the business world. 

If you never read my opinion columns, oh, I was clever. Darn clever. I was gifted in the art of the “straw man” argument. I could take a complex topic and boil it down to a simplistic black-or-white, either-or summary. Then I would set up that “straw man” and bash him to pieces with witty and sarcastic insults.

Some of my favorite targets back in the day were Bill Clinton, Ted Kennedy, and Christopher Dodd. Using words alone, I could draw a buffoonish picture of these guys that would make an editorial cartoonist proud.

My columns generated plenty of feedback. Those who agreed with me sent notes exclaiming how witty I was, and those who disagreed informed me that I was identical to an earthworm, except not quite as smart. 

But after many years of writing those opinion columns, a funny thing happened: I got tired of reading my own stuff. It wasn’t that I thought the topics were unimportant. It’s just that my one-sided arguments were becoming tedious, even to me. So, if I was sick of my stuff, then what were the odds people reading the newspaper would find it interesting?
 
At that time, two things became clear to me. First, in all the time I wrote those cleverly caustic cultural commentaries, I had not changed a single person’s mind. And second, there were professional writers on the op-ed pages who were making the same points, but doing it way more effectively. 

Finally, I decided that I should leave that task to the professionals. From then on I concentrated on my Friday humor column to see if I could bring a little levity to a world that had gotten way too serious and angry. Although, admittedly, my snarkalepsy still kicks in on occasion. 

I’m pretty sure I made the correct choice. After I stopped submitting opinion essays to the newspaper, I received exact zero notes wondering why I wasn’t on the op-ed pages anymore. Ah, the public. They’ll always let you know how much of an impact you are making.

About the same time I stopped writing opinion essays, a new phenomenon burst onto the scene: social media. It turned out I was a piker when it came to sarcastic straw man arguments. The creation of Facebook and Twitter made it possible for anyone with a computer to proclaim obnoxious opinions to the whole world.  

In looking back at my op-ed days, by today’s standards it was all rather quaint. I never referred to anyone I disagreed with as literally Stalin, and no one ever accused me of being literally Hitler. In today’s toxic world of social media, those are the mild accusations. 

My advice to anyone caught up in the nasty back and forth of social media is to ask yourself a couple of questions: Have you ever changed a single person’s mind with your biting and witty political comments or by reposting other people’s biting and witty political memes? (Magic 8 Ball says, “Not likely.”) Which leads to my second question: Is it really worth it to lose half your friends by viciously attacking anyone who doesn’t think exactly like you?

To paraphrase a once-famous person: What does it profit a man to gain a hundred “likes,” and yet lose his soul?

The Communion of Saints Are Praying for Us

 I was planning to write some interesting stories about my relatives who have passed away. You see, there have been some rather eccentric and colorful characters in my family tree. The wild adventures they engaged in don’t even need any exaggeration. I figured since they are no longer with us, they can’t complain if I reveal a few hilarious, if somewhat embarrassing, details from the past.

But then I remembered: I can’t write about my deceased aunts and uncles and grandparents because I’m Catholic. As a Catholic, I believe in the Communion of Saints. By the way, even if I were not Catholic, I’d have to believe in the Communion of Saints because it says so right in the Bible. 

Well, you won’t find the specific phrase “Communion of Saints” in the Scriptures. But the epistle to the Hebrews in the New Testament lists many famous saints who are now in Heaven, and then offers this remarkable statement: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses…let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (Heb 12:1). 

In other words, the folks who went before us in faith, that great cloud of witnesses in Heaven, are watching us. It’s as if they’re in the grandstands of a sports stadium, cheering for us as we compete on the playing field.

So, my wacky ancestors are not really gone. They are in the Lord’s heavenly kingdom, and they are paying close attention to us down here. I guess I’ll have to save those embarrassingly funny stories for another time—most likely when I finally join my relatives in the Heavenly bleachers. When that reunion occurs, we are going to have quite a few belly laughs, most of which, I suspect, will be at my expense since they’ve been keeping an eye on me all these years.

The Communion of Saints is a fascinating truth, and many Christians ignore it. Most believers are confident that those who died in faith are now in Heaven, but they think their loved ones are hidden away in some far distant outpost of the heavenly universe, completely out of wifi range to be able to observe us today. (OK, there is another aspect of all this that I should mention here: the Church’s teaching about Purgatory. Those who die in God’s grace, but with a lot of sinful baggage still clinging to them, must have their selfish attitudes and bad habits washed away before entering into the perfect joy of God’s presence. This purifying process is called Purgatory. The good news is that everybody who goes to Purgatory eventually ends up in Heaven for all eternity. We’ll have to examine this topic in more detail some day in the future.) 

Those who have gone before us are not out of touch and unaware of events back here on earth. They are in a mysterious and wonderful state-of-being right now, where they are aware of us—our joys and our fears, our triumphs and our struggles. Most of all, their main job is to pray for us, because Scripture says, “The prayer of a righteous person is very powerful” (James 5:16).

The Bible also tells us repeatedly to pray for one another. Who best to intercede on our behalf than those who already fought the good fight here on earth and now are in the presence of the Lord? Instead of telling humorous and somewhat embarrassing stories about my ancestors, I instead should thank them for teaching me the faith, and then ask them to continue praying that I, and all my loved ones, fight the good fight and win the race. 

So, this means I am going to refrain from telling you some of the goofy and comical things that my departed relatives did during their lives here on earth. If you want to hear those tales, ask me when we get to Heaven. I’ll be in the bleachers with my family. You’ll be able to find us easily since we’ll be the ones laughing hysterically.

Cheese Lover Makes Cabot a Habit

 There are many milestones in people’s lives, such as the day they were born, graduation(s), marriage, and the birth of children. For me, in addition to these common experiences, I can add the following milestone events: the day I was fired for drinking on the job, the day I became a Christian, the day I quit drinking, the day the Red Sox finally won the World Series, and the day I found out I was lactose intolerant. Every one of these incidents had a profound impact on my life. 

Recently, another milestone event occurred for me. I was making a sales call at an engineering firm. (Relax, we were masked up and socially distant, and they took my temperature before I was allowed in the building.) When our conversation drifted away from HVAC topics, which happens occasionally — I’d say approximately 100% of the time — one of the engineers said, “Well, you know, all Cabot cheeses are naturally lactose-free.”

I can’t remember why our conversation drifted to the topic of cheese, but those words hit me like a ton of bricks. You see, being lactose intolerant, I have not had cheese in over 25 years — not counting the times I accidentally ate some cheese and then spent the remainder of the family picnic or business conference locked in the bathroom.

The thing is, I love cheese. It’s been quite a sacrifice for me to give up cheese for almost three decades now.
 
I stammered and said, “Wait, what did you just say?”

The engineer replied, “Yes, it's true. The way Cabot processes their cheese removes all the lactose. You should have no problem eating Cabot cheese, Bill.”

I was so overjoyed at these words, I felt light-headed. I had to sit down before I fainted. It was the same tidal wave of happiness that washed over me on August 23th, 1981, when the prettiest girl in town said yes when I asked her to marry me; and again on October 27th, 2004, when Keith Foulke got the final out, which clinched the first Red Sox championship in 86 years. To those milestone dates I now can add September 18th, 2020, the day Jordan Politz, engineer extraordinaire, informed me of the glorious fact that the folks at Cabot sell cheeses that I can eat without becoming sick.

The very next day I went to the supermarket and came home with a package of Cabot Smoky Bacon Cheddar, which displayed a “Lactose-free” logo on the back. I waited until my schedule was free for the rest of the day, just in case things went awry. I cut up some of the cheese and ate it on Triscuits. Six hours later there still were no ill effects, not counting the smile that I could not wipe from my face.

Cabot should create a marketing campaign that targets the approximately 50 million Americans who are just like me: left-handed Red Sox fans. No wait, I mean, who are lactose intolerant.

This has been such a wonderful discovery, I had to write a song parody. You can sing these lyrics to the tune of “America the Beautiful”:

Oh beautiful, this Cabot cheese
With amber colored chips
The yummy cheddar flavored bites
That pass across my lips
Oh lactose-free, oh lactose-free
God shed His grace on thee
And crown thy Gouda
With brotherhooda
From cheese to tasty cheese

Oh beautiful, for Swiss and Brie
And Mozzarella warm
Now Feta, Bleu, and Muenster, too
No longer do me harm
Oh lactose-free, oh lactose-free
God loves me, now I know
And fills my soul
With fine queso
And luscious Provolone

Ignore Commandments at Your Own Risk

There once was a young man who did not believe in the Law of Gravity. “It doesn’t apply to me,” he often said. “If you believe it’s true and it makes you happy, fine. But don’t impose your intolerant values on me!”

One day this young man was in his second-floor apartment, when he heard his friends talking outside on the sidewalk. Instead of going down the stairs and out the front door, he decided to open the window and step out. He figured he would just float down to the ground to be with his friends, since the Law of Gravity did not apply to him.

The moment the young man stepped past the window sill, he plummeted straight down and slammed into the ground, breaking his leg and wrist, and dislocating his shoulder. As the ambulance drove him to the hospital, in great anguish he cried out, “It’s not fair! Why do bad things always happen to me?!”

There once was another young man who did not believe in the Law of God. “The Ten Commandments don’t apply to me,” he often said. “If you believe it’s true and it makes you happy, fine. But don’t impose your intolerant values on me!”

When this young man’s wife discovered he was romantically involved with a co-worker, she sued for divorce and kicked him out of the house. Soon after, when his boss found out he had been embezzling funds from company accounts, the young man was fired and arrested. As he was escorted to a jail cell, unable to post bond, in great anguish he cried out, “It’s not fair! Why do bad things always happen to me?!”

We all know the Law of Gravity is true. And we all know it applies to everyone and everything, no matter what anyone’s personal opinion about it might be. Not believing in the Law of Gravity does not make it go away. Although we cannot see gravity, we know it’s true because of the overwhelming evidence.

When we understand the Law of Gravity and use that knowledge to keep from being hurt, we are not having intolerant values imposed on us. We are simply being smart. We are accepting the reality of the physical laws which govern our existence.

Just like the Law of Gravity, not believing in the Law of God does not make it go away. Although we cannot see the moral law, anyone willing to look knows it is true because of the overwhelming evidence. Whenever a person lives his or her life without any moral code—such as committing adultery or embezzling from company accounts—he or she eventually plummets into a heap of heartache and pain.

When we understand the Law of God and use that knowledge to keep from being hurt, we are not having intolerant values imposed on us. We are simply being smart. We are accepting the reality of the moral laws which govern our existence. Unlike what many people think, the Ten Commandments were not designed to control us or to take away our fun. On the contrary, the Ten Commandments were designed to liberate us, and to allow us to enjoy life according to God’s wonderful plan. Ignoring God’s Law and embracing sin—lying, cheating, stealing, committing adultery—may produce some short-term pleasures, but the long-term anguish and suffering will be overwhelming.

And ignoring God’s Law is the same as ignoring God. If we choose to ignore Him in this life, He will respect our decision and make sure we remain separated from Him in the next life. Being separated from God forever, and therefore filled with loneliness and despair, is the very definition of Hell.

The Law of God is just as real as the Law of Gravity. Some people claim the Law of God can be ignored. Please don’t “fall” for that.

Which Is Better, Radio or TV?

 In my less-than-humble opinion, radio is way better than TV or video screens. 

 
I realize my view about radio is as counter-cultural as it gets. This is the era of video screens, after all. We have jumbo screens on our walls and small screens in our pockets. And most folks have screens of various other sizes, including the requisite iPad tablet in the bathroom, because how can any modern citizen be expected to spend three or four minutes on the porcelain throne without having a glowing screen to gaze at? That would be downright primitive.

 

I remember having lunch at a sports bar (back in pre-pandemic days, when people still went to sports bars), and there were at least 50 large video screens. I thought maybe they had constructed the building by stacking big screen TVs on top of each other, rather than making the walls with more traditional material like cinder blocks.

To be honest, I have to admit I’m surrounded by video screens on a daily basis. From smallest to largest, I own: a smart phone, two iPads, two laptop computers, a small TV that I use as a computer monitor, and the big screen TV in our living room. And I admit I spend a lot of my waking hours watching those various screens.

But sometimes I just need to shut off the screens and go “old school.” Sometimes, for the sake of my sanity, I need to listen to the radio. When I listen to the radio, whether music or talk or even the news, I find I’m more relaxed. Ironically, even though I feel more relaxed, studies show that listening to the radio causes our brains to be more alert and engaged. Radio sparks our imagination, as our minds create mental pictures of what we are hearing. Television does the exact opposite. Neurosurgeon Adam Lipson made this observation about TV: “There have been EEG studies that demonstrate that television watching converts the brain from beta wave activity to alpha waves, which are associated with a daydreaming state, and a reduced use of critical thinking skills.”

“A reduced use of critical thinking skills” is a polite way of phrasing it. My dad had a more blunt approach when we were kids: “Turn that idiot box off and go outside and play, before your brains turn to mush!”

It’s a fact that listening to the radio inspires our imagination. The baseball troubadour, Terry Cashman, recorded a song called “Play-by-Play (I Saw It on the Radio).” I watch a lot of baseball on TV, but when I listen to a game on the radio, it’s more interesting to me, as I envision the plays unfolding. (This year, I also envision packed ballparks.) It seems that I “see” the game better when I listen to it.

Another good thing about radio is that it can be the background soundtrack of your regular life. With TV and video, you pretty much have to stop and stare, which precludes any other activity (not counting the activity of shoveling cheese doodles into your face). While listening to the radio, you can do other things, like chores around the house. Don’t roll your eyes. I do my share of household chores, at least once every, uh, couple of months. 

So, radio is better than TV or video. But of course, reading a book or newspaper is even better. However, I find that I have a hard time turning the pages while driving my car on I-84, so in that situation it seems better to listen to the radio instead.

They say that TV lowers your IQ, while radio increases it. I know that’s true, because I saw it on the radio.

Christians Can Have Hope in Dire Circumstances

 One of my favorite Catholic authors is Fr. Dwight Longenecker. He has a very fascinating story: raised as an Evangelical Protestant in Pennsylvania, he attended a Fundamentalist school, Bob Jones University, and then went to England to study at Oxford. He was ordained as an Anglican priest and served in ministry in Great Britain for many years. Eventually, he became Catholic, and now is the pastor of a parish in South Carolina. He is one of the few Catholic priests in the U.S. who is married with children.

Fr. Longenecker addresses many issues regarding faith and culture on his blog (which can be found at dwightlongenecker.com). Recently, he wrote something very fascinating. If you’ve been paying attention lately, our American culture in general, and the Catholic Church in particular, are in serious disarray. This year there have been regular and relentless riots in many major cities. Some people are calling for the complete dismantling of the American way of life and replacing it with a totalitarian Marxist society -- complete with “re-education camps” for those of us who don’t agree. In the Church, Mass attendance has been dropping like a stone (and this was before the pandemic hit). Catholic parishes and schools are being closed, and reduced donations have left many parishes on the verge of bankruptcy. Additionally, The Church is still reeling from the clergy sex abuse scandal, and recently we discovered why it seemed the bishops were doing so little to correct the situation: many monsignors, bishops, and even a high-profile cardinal were engaged in the very behavior at the heart of the scandal. 

This is certainly a moment in history when American Catholics might be tempted to despair for the future of our nation and our Church. 

Fully understanding the dire times in which we live, Fr. Longenecker recently wrote this on his blog: “I do not despair over corruption and immorality in the Catholic Church. I do not fear revolution or societal collapse. I do not fret over heresy and schism…I grieve over them as I grieve over my own sins, but I do not fret or rage…I know that God really does bring all things together. He weaves the horrors into the other side of glory.” 

Now, please don’t misunderstand. Fr. Longenecker is not saying he is optimistic that all our current problems will be solved and everything will go back to normal. Instead, he is saying that even if the Church crumbles and even if American society collapses, he will not despair. Why? Because he knows that God is in charge. He knows that Jesus was offering a profound truth when he said, “In this world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). And Fr. Dwight trusts the Holy Spirit, who inspired St. Paul to write, “We know that all things work for good for those who love God” (Romans 8:28). 

 

Personally, I’m quite aware of those statements by Jesus and St. Paul. I even gave a talk earlier this year that centered around them. However, it’s easy for me to lose sight of these messages and begin to fret and worry, especially when the TV news shows cities going up in flames and I read about yet another bishop who developed “deposition amnesia” when questioned by lawyers about a decades-long pattern of transferring pervert priests to unsuspecting parishes.

Unlike Fr. Longenecker, I find it way too easy to lose sight of the fact that God is indeed in charge. When I observe what’s going on these days, I admit I do fret. Occasionally, it even gets to the point where it turns into despair.  

Whenever we fret and despair, it’s a sign we have a lack of hope. And hope is directly connected to faith. When we have faith, even a mustard seed-sized bit of faith, we can confidently know that God is God, and that He is in charge. This is the reason Fr. Longenecker can be upbeat when times are bad. His faith is in God, not in Church officials or politicians. 

No matter what happens, no matter how horrible and tragic circumstances become, we must never lose sight of these three facts: 1) God knows exactly what’s going on, 2) He loves us more than we can comprehend, and 3) God’s will will be done. 

Whenever current events cause you to fret, turn the TV off for a while. Say a few prayers, asking God to fill your heart with peace. Then check out Fr. Longenecker’s blog. It will put a smile on your face.

Major Milestone: Column Number 1,000

 Today we’ve reached a major milestone. This essay is the 1,000th humor column I have written for the Republican-American newspaper. (Although the phrase “I have written” is not exactly correct, since I’m only on the third sentence, and I’ve got to type out about 550 more words before I can employ the past tense. On the other hand, I was an Engineering major who got a C-minus in the only English class I took, so I’m not really an expert at grammatical tensification.)

My first column was published in June, 2001. I was filling in temporarily for the talented Tracey O., who was on maternity leave. The editors told me that after my eight fill-in columns appeared, they would consider making me a regular columnist if they received some positive feedback from readers. So, I guess my campaign of begging all my family and friends to send glowing reviews to the editors was successful. Or maybe when the paper lost the advertising account of Big Lou’s Discount House of Army Surplus Beef Jerky, they realized they had some blank space that needed to be filled, and it was a toss-up between using either me or Bobby Wolff’s other card-playing strategy feature, “The Aces on Old Maid.”

When an editor informed me that my humor column would be a regular feature each and every week, my first thought was, “Hey, that’s great!” My second thought was, “Oh no, I’ve got nothing written for next week, and the eight fill-in columns used up all my ideas.” That was the beginning of my delightful relationship with insomnia, and the regular episodes of suddenly being wide awake at 2 a.m., and muttering to myself, “What am I gonna write about this week? Umm, I got nothing.” 

During the first couple of years, coming up with topics was a real challenge. But since then I’ve realized there is no shortage of topics about which to write, as long as I focus on two primary sources: wacky news events and wacky personal events. And if the various events aren’t particularly wacky, I use the technique I learned in that solitary English class: I wackatize them (otherwise known as embellishment and exaggeration). The hardest aspect of this column is finding a free hour to sit down with my computer and just write. No wait, the hardest aspect is forcing myself NOT to plagiarize something really funny I read online. 

I look at this column kind of like a baseball game. If three out of every 10 essays are funny, then I’m hitting .300 and I should make the all-star team. If four out of every 10 essays are funny, then I’m hitting .400, Hall of Fame material. I understand that three successes out of every 10 attempts does not apply to a lot of activities, for example, Lasik eye surgery, landing airplanes, or trying to keep the baby from rolling off the changing table.

If you think the percentage of funny essays should be much higher than three out of 10, well, at least my average is higher than anyone playing for the Red Sox this year. (And if you’re that gentleman in Naugatuck who regularly sends me notes saying I’m NEVER funny, I recommend you visit Big Lou’s Discount House of Lasik Eye Surgery, where his success rate is almost at the all-star level.)

Anyway, I think my percentage has increased a little bit over the years as I’ve been able to develop my craft, figure out what does and does not work, and most importantly, learn how to turn my computer on. Hopefully, the next 1,000 columns will be a little bit funnier — except in a certain home in Naugatuck.