A Family Story.

My mother's side of the family is Protestant. My upbringing was Catholic. It's rare for I-talians to be on the side of Martin Luther - that little bugger - but in the case of my relatives, it was an option they chose when they arrived in North America at the turn of the last century. It was a way of assimilating quickly. To be exact, my relatives are Pentecostal and they happen to have played a big role in expanding Pentecostalism on the continent. Good for them.

We, on the other hand - that is, the Catholic side - we're heathens. A thoughtful and inquisitive feller may ask "How comma you-a Catholic?" The short of it is that my parents really didn't care - but their respective families did. When my father informed his older brother that he was switching sides, he reacted as though my father went gay on him. Since they loved one another - I guess - my mother, decided to go Catholic. Naturally, my grandparents - actually my grand father was not impressed. So I am not Catholic based on any divine design.

I forget the rest of the story. I tuned out. But until this day we joke about it whenever we are at family functions. We're the only Catholics and it sometimes feels as though everyone knows it. Not that they are Calvinists but we feel the sweat around our collars (Remember ring around the collar?) Then again, my family is not exactly normal. We tend to, shall we say, let our imagination get the better of us. And so it should for it brought us many laughs at the black sheep table at functions and events.

God bless my cousins. We once went to a couple Pentecostal masses and sermons and found them to be lively and engaging. A far cry from the bizarre, ritualistic functions of Catholicism. Still, we joked about whether we needed to disclose who we really were. "You mean we're allowed to come in?"

I digress. My cousins were often just as insane as we were - only with much less profanities and vulgarity. My sister has one ugly tongue. They never judged us and we never judged them. We were united in humour.

With this useless backstory I turn back to the story. Years ago we were at one of those functions. An engagement I think. I brought along with me my girlfriend at the time. There were at least 75 people. An irrelevant, disjointed and somewhat unbecoming conversation ensues.

My brother-in-law: "When are they going to serve the food?"
Brother: "I's hungry, Maude."
Mother: "Don't start, guys."
Sister: "Yeah, what's taking so long?"

The Minister gets up. "Can I have your attention please!"

Me: "Great."
Brother-in-law: "Are they going to serve the food while he talks?"
Minster: "We want to thank Jesus..."
Brother: "Jo, tell that nigger, wop, chink joke."
Sister: "There was this..."
Mother: "Stop it. You always embarrass me. Do you see anyone behaving this way?"

My father is oblivious, by the way. My other sister, who married the hungry hippo, pretends not to laugh. My girlfriend is unsure how to act but is enjoying (and was going to enjoy) herself.

Me: "Doesn't the Minister talk like Snagglepuss?"
Minster: "Now let us bow our heads and pray...."
Brother: "Speedy Gonzalez giving a Protestant speech. Now that's funny stuff."
Brother-in-law: "He looks like Sherman."
Sister whispers to us: "Ma, is embarrassed. She's not even looking at us."

68 heads went down. All eyes are shut. The silence is deafening except for six Catholic heathens (minus my mother who grew up Protestant) with their heads up. It may as well have been up our asses.

Me: "Shit. This is bad. Look at everyone."

We all look around. Everyone is concentrated in prayer. My brother-in-law is staring out at the waiters with a look of desperation.

Brother: "Yeah well they don't have to put up with Original sin. We're so screwed no matter what we do. As long as the food is good here."
Me: "We're The Simpsons. Everyone else are the Flanders."

Afterwards, murmurs and whispers and polite glances follow.

Brother-in-law: "What are they staring at?'
His wife, my sister: "I don't know. Maybe because we behave in a boorish manner?"
Brother: "I wonder what boar meat tastes like."

And so on.

I can just imagine what could have been said about us that day. When my cousins came to sit with us during the meal we could not stop laughing about various things. We kept asking them to come to the dark side. People continued to stare. Some came by. Many did not get the humour and ran away.

Now that I think of it, I wonder what God may have thought.