I was on the phone with my friend when he said out of nowhere "No, Santa doesn't like oranges!" Turns out his 1 year old daughter was putting a stuffed bear in a santa outfit in her oranges and giggling.

Another thread reminded me of this...Sunday dinner was always around 1 or 2:00. We'd go to church, and I'd always have a dress on (Sunday best) . It was more or less understood that you dress up on Sunday.

Oh, and we'd of course always have nice dinners, but certain dinners simply were NOT Sunday dinners (i.e. we'd never have meatloaf or hot dogs/hamburgs on a Sunday)


TIS

True, TIS. We always had Spaghetti, ravioli, or roast. I'd devour the sunday paper waiting on dinner. And church was an absolute must. Even when I got older. God, will those days ever return?

Oh, and speaking of Sunday dinner, I'm guessing this was only at my house, BUT we only had soda on Sunday. It was always a treat. The only thing is, my mom would buy the cheap stuff like "Sun-Glo" orange or whatever.


TIS

My dad made rootbeer.

While my Mom was alive Sunday dinners were great. She would put the ham in the oven to cook while we were at church. By the time we got home the ham was done and you can smell it as soon as you walked in the house. Boy do I miss her.

I remember my mom cooking salmon patties out of a can, I hated the smell and refused to eat them. For some reason my dad was getting pissed off that I didn't eat them and was yelling at me and slammed his hands down on the table knocking over a bunch of glasses and whatnot. I didn't eat them. I was a stubborn bastard back then too.

Because we had to fast until Communion, we always went to the early mass on Sunday morning. We'd be all dressed up and, weather permitting, we'd walk to church. On the way home, we'd stop at the bakery and get danish for breakfast. After breakfast, my mom would make the meatballs and gravy, or we'd eat at my grandmother's. Sometimes we would have ravioli. It was always made from scratch on this special wooden board and my job was to pinch the edges together with a fork.

SB, just curious what time was the early mass?

We usually went to either the 8 or 9. Then they changed the fasting rule to one hour before receiving communion, so people started to go to the later masses.

Why do you have to fast before communion? Does that rule still apply today? Still curious.

Yes, it still applies. Only, now you only have to fast for an hour, not midnight Saturday.

I always peferred to go to the 11:30 a.m. mass on Sunday. However, when I was older, and had a car and plans to go out on weekends, I loved it when they started having Saturday mass. 5:00 or 5:30 p.m. was perfect. I go to church and go out with friends.

Not only that, I didn't have to worry about getting up early (10:00 a.m) Sunday to go to church.


TIS

Madonne, I remember those midnight fasts.

I remember being worried that I would swallow tothpaste before going to communion!

In my country, in the old days, people had to go to mass every day. You could choose: 5:30 AM, 6:30 AM, or 7:30 AM. The priest would speak in Latin, his back turned to the people. Chairs were made just as uncomfortable as was needed to effectively massacre your lower regions. Yeah, those were the days.

This is more of a "Catholic" story than a childhood memory, although it did involve childish behavior. When we were seniors at an all boys Catholic School, we had to go for a three day retreat where they pretty much had us praying and going to confession, fasting and all the rest. Naturally many of the group brought an ample supply of alcohol to the event, and the first night everyone was pretty hammered. After "lights out" many students rn wild through the hallways, setting off fire alarms, and reaking total havoc. To say the least the people running the retreat let alone out teachers who accompanied us were very pleased. At 3:00 A.M. we were marched into a darkened chapel where an eerie light shone up at the face of a priest who read us the liturgical riot act, all but damning our souls to hell. This dude was SCARY. Then, at they end of his tirade he made us all kneel down and as a "sacrifice" made everyone spread his arms as if we were crucified for three minutes. After about two minutes of this, arms get VERY heavy and people were haveing obvious trouble
holding the position. As about half the arms dropped this priest, still glaring at us said "Jesus had his arms stretched like that for three hours, yet none of you can do it for three minutes. From the back of the group someone shouted, "Yeah, but he had nails to hold his hands up." I never laughed so hard in my life. The following morning the retreat was cancelled, we were put on a bus and sent home.

Brother Leonard would have said "Oh yeah wiseguy. Come here and let's show them."

We had Brother Peter, who was the Dean of Discipline. The man could easily have played for the Tennessee Titans. He was huge, and literally could scare the crap out of you with one glance.

I had to go on one of those retreats, Don T. Mount Saint Michael: Class of 1977.

The school is run by the Marist brothers, yet for some reason there weren't any Marist retreat sites available that year. So we went up to Graymoor in Garrison, New York, which is run by the Franciscan brothers. It's a really beautiful place, where they shelter homeless men for up to three months at a time.

I still like to drive up there every so often. It's a great place to unwind from city life.

Marist brothers,Franciscan brothers I'm sorry those names sound mafiaish to me.

I didn't even mention La Salle Academy.

Oh, Mig, you so did NOT mess with the brothers. I'd be very careful if I were you. I would not rule out some serious wrath of God lightning.

Say a prayer for my soul.

Please St. Jude, have mercy on her!

Ha ha ha... Isn't St. Jude the patron saint of lost causes??? Quick thinking DT!! Ohhhhhhh Mig your ass is in a sling now.



TIS

Another true story...same high school


Every Tuesday we had to go to confession in the morning before class. There was this priest, Father Kuhn, who was a total dork. He could not control us at all. One Tuesday we got about 10 guys to go into confession and tell him that we had sex with the same girl the saturday night before. Each story was more lurid than the one before it...one said they did it on the hood of a car, one aid he did it underneath the football stands, etc. In each case we mentioned the girl's name.

Kuhn was absolutely livid, and when we got to his class he started in on us for abusing the sacrament. One smart ass raised his hand and said "Father I thought you could not talk about what you heard in confession." He turned beet red and stormed out of the room. The following day he was replaced by a really tough no nonsense guy who beat the crap out of some kid who was strolling into class late. After that he told us he was in the Navy and what a tough guy he was and how he would not put up with our crap. The next day we marched into the classroom humming Anchors Aweigh and saluting him saying "Permission To Come aboard SIR!"

I guess I'm in trouble huh?
I lived by a St. Judes church growing up.