My wife and I just passed a very pleasant Sunday evening with some old friends. It began with a meet-up after Solemn High Mass at Old St. Mary’s in Washington, DC (the rite and church of our marriage.) I served the mass, as I have on and off for six years. I spoke to the celebrant, Msgr. Pope, before and after the mass, and he enthused about FIB. The ceremony was beautiful, and Monsignor’s preaching was edifying, as always.  On the way out, we got to wish Fr. Harris, a Viet Nam vet, a happy Veterans’ Day.  Fr. Harris made his first (“and last”, according to him) appearance as Deacon of the Mass, and did a great job for someone with no preparation.  Remind me to congratulate him the next time I see him.

Afterwards, Mrs. Cubbedge and I joined a friend at nearby Chinatown Express for a noodly repast. There was an event at the Verizon Center, so we were shoehorned in the back room, but thanks to the always excellent service, we were just as comfy as if we were in our own home. Our selections included the best sesame chicken on the planet, three pounds of delicious fried dumplings, two pots of tea, and gallons of cold Tsing Tao beer. As Grandpa Jones used to say, “Yum, yum!”

When we got back to the church, we found that my wagon was trapped by the 7:30pm mass crowd. So, we went across the street to the bar to wait them out with the help of some more drinks. I dashed over to scope out the mass after a few minutes, and found our old buddy John. So, when “The latest Sunday Mass in the City” let out, we all decided to go over to our place in Rosslyn,. Goody Cubbedge baked some Toll House, and the men polished off two bottles of Two-Buck Chuck and another of Barefoot. Our conversation started with our good fortune, steered dangerously close toward matters ecclesiastical (of which my poor wife has had enough,) and ended with a solid hour of school-days reminiscing.

hen, with Monday creeping up on us, it was goodnight to the boys (and good night for us, as well.) One of the fellas remarked on his way to the lobby that this night was the most pleasant he had spent in a long time.

Well, same here, buddy. I haven’t felt so at home since before I was homeless.

WAC

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