Church

I took a leisurely stroll down memory lane this morning. I was looking for the specific moment that a specific thing happened, and I think I found it. But, I also found that leisurely strolls down memory lanes through a collection of online photographs can be like diving into a rabbit hole after a bunny with a watch for “just a second.” I was in deep.

I realized as I wandered that Mrs C’s snow fiasco was 3 ½ years ago. Impossible. It was last month. The memory of it is entirely too new. How could 42 months have passed since that moment? I bet if I asked her she would say 18 months ago, at best.

I realized that the hilarity of the Ryan Rath “Ferengi-ear” moment was February 23rd, 2014. More than 3 years ago. Impossible. Star Trek TNG hadn’t even come out then yet, had it?

During my walk down memory lane I saw that Mrs C’s first Crawl was in March of 2014, my surprise family superhero-themed birthday party was three years ago now, and I read The Fourth Turning in October of 2014. David Smith’s outrageous ugly sweater party is 30 months behind us now. Ludo was born 2 years ago this month.

Nothing in the rear view mirror is as close as it appears.

But after climbing out of the rabbit hole I returned to my original intent. This is Sunday and I’ll be heading down shortly to join my beer-swilling compadres at the local watering hole. It’s a tradition we have come to call “church.” Our church isn’t like the others. For one thing, it’s in a bar. For another, it has nothing to do with religion, unless you count mutual adulation and an unhealthy respect for beer a religion. In which case, it’s all about religion.

My quest this morning, and a daunting one it was, was to find the day we first coined that phrase. I think I found it. If the reply I posted in 2016 is accurate then the genesis of church came on August 4th, 2014, nearly 3 years ago this summer. It wasn’t the first time our congregation gathered in communion, but the first time, I believe, we named it reverently.

If you’ve been, you know that it’s a gathering of glee. Hilarity ensues. Bells are rung. Our bartender, the amazing Kime, has a bell behind the cash register she rings when Tom gets out of line. Well, when anyone gets out of line, really, it just so happens that it tends to be me. If you haven’t been to church yet, you should come. Get a high-five from Kime; there are no others like it.

Get a beer, too. Coldest in town. Tip well. Have a Shameless burger. Stay all day. Nobody minds.

I’ll be taking a leisurely stroll down there shortly.

Like chasing that rabbit down that hole I’ll have the intention of staying for “just a second.” I’ll have “one beer.” I won’t get out of line or laugh too loud. I won’t have to hear the bell.

I’m getting all of that out of the way now.

It isn’t polite to lie in church. 😉

Author: Tom Being Tom

Tom writes, drinks beer, loves his wife, and hangs out with Golden Retrievers. His worldview was formed by the strange intermingling of comic book superheroes, decades of political analysis, the Air Coryell offense, and an atheistic spiritual awakening. He intends to save the world next Thursday.

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