ChuckDoherty.com

This Thursday, Roman Catholic bishops approved a new English translation for the prayers that tens of millions of American Catholics recite during mass. The changes also affect the “Penitential Rite” in which the current line, “I have sinned through my fault,” will change to (and I kid you not) the much more show-tuneish; “I have sinned greatly through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.” It’s a line that I could just imagine Freddie Mercury belting out, had he been allowed in church that is.

In a related story, New York area OCD sufferer Walter Andrews has revised his thrice-nightly hand-washing ritual to include seven additional on-off cycles of both the hot and cold faucets as the closing steps in the 12-minute process. 

It is unclear which of these two events will have greater impact on any of us living in the real world.

In the never-ending stream of emails I get each day from kind-hearted people in Africa looking to share huge sums of money with me, I recently received this interesting comment:

It was discovered that some unscrupulous individuals aiming to frustrating all your efforts have removed some vital documents from your payment file. However, a 7-man harmonization, normalization, notarization, computerization and re-documentation committee has been set up to finally perfect all the necessary documentation to that effect

Members of the above-mentioned committee are easily recognized thanks to their unusually-long business cards.

On a flight from Baltimore to Providence yesterday, weather and air traffic control delays resulted in a two hour delay on the ground.  This did not sit well with the possibly intoxicated and most certainly psychotic man seated to my left. While we were parked on the tarmac, he became increasingly and vociferously upset with Southwest Airlines which he deemed directly responsible for the thunderstorms, ranted about how much he hated them, really really hated them, and somehow got it in his head that any other airline would be immune from weather delays and would have had him home by now.  He also insisted that he could have just driven home in less time, making the 360 mile trip in under three hours because; “I have a Mercedes-Benz.” A magical Mercedes-Benz, apparently.

Soon, his antics escalated to include making those “Why, I oughta…” gestures by pounding his fist into his palm, and growling; “Why won’t they give us more Goddamn information?” At this point the woman to his left decided that she had her fill of his shenanigans and moved to another seat, sending someone more resilient (or at least ignorant of what was happening) to take her place.  By now it was evident that the crew had identified him as a troublemaker and were keeping a discreet eye on him as well.

Eventually our friend got out of his seat and marched toward the cockpit where he engaged in a heated discussion with the cabin crew insisting that he taken back to the gate. He imagined he would simply breeze onto another Providence-bound flight and be on his way.  A flight attendant went in to talk to the captain about the matter and returned saying that if he officially “demanded” to go back to the gate they would have to do so, but he would be unable to take another Southwest flight.  I sensed that the important modifier “ever,” was somehow implied in her explanation. He then set about calling other airlines on his almost-dead cell phone (yet another source of frustration for him) to line up another flight before playing this trump card.  Before he was able to arrange anything (not that he could have anyway) the captain announced that we were finally cleared for departure. My charming seatmate then settled down and accepted that he was going to get there after all.

In the air, he seemed to reflect a bit on how badly he behaved, since he turned to me and asked; “I wasn’t being a dick, was I?”

I looked him directly in the eye and said, “Yes, you were being a dick.  A complete dick.”

The look in my eye and the total lack of a smile when I said this must have let him know that I was quite serious, so he looked down, mumbled some sort of too-little-too-late apology and went back to his beer. I was surprised they even served that to him, but I think that the crew (who could easily have arranged for his sorry ass to be tossed in the clink by now) realized that 86ing him would have escalated matters further. And with this being only a 45-min flight, they were probably just cutting their losses.

But our intrepid frequent flyer (another factoid that he made known to all) wasn’t done yet. Oh no. During approach he pulled out and fired up his cell phone, prompting the lead flight attendant (an imposing gentleman who had clearly had enough of this man’s shit for one lifetime) to, shall we say, “tap” him on the side of the head as he was holding his phone to let him know this caused displeasure. This action seemed to convey a message that words alone could not achieve, and he grudgingly put the phone away.

Finally the plane lands and people begin filing out, with many of them turning to get a look at the person responsible for all the fuss and some of them tossing well deserved dagger-eyes in his direction. Oblivious to this as well, he reaches into the overhead bin, pulls out his roll-aboard suitcase … and just lets it drop – hard – onto the shoulder of the woman standing beneath it. Without the slightest acknowledgement, he sauntered off the plane with the suitcase in tow and careened down the jetway and through the terminal like a drunk driver, with the suitcase swinging madly from side to side as his laptop dragged on the ground behind it.  After that, I assume he took his anger and intoxication out on the road where it belongs.

By the way, he carried his ID in a little pouch slung around his neck.  What an idiot.