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Thursday, August 16, 2007

I feel a sin coming on........

Yes, I stole that line. Shhhhhhh. But, as I head into my 1 week bandiversary, things are getting a little.....well.....boring. Wanting to sin is a good sign, I guess. On the other hand, the type of sin I'm talking about is not at all similar to the type of sin I would be thinking about PB (pre-band). For the most part, at least. The only original sin (not THE original sin.....MY original sin) that's kind of lurking in my bad girl body is wanting to sneak a smoke. It's always been one of my favorite sins. For the most part, no one really 'knows' I smoke. Well, some people know. Bartenders know. My favorite waitress at the Saloon knows. Oh, and my vacation group knows. And, yes, my sisters know....they like to smoke with me. And, there's my don't-leave-the-bar-until-they-run-the-sweeper-under-our-feet friends....they know. They do the dirty deed on the sly too. And, of course, my husband knows. And, some of my neighbors know. Toni and Vince know but they hate it. And, maybe a few cousins. I think a handful of people I work with know. But, really, no one knows. Or maybe everybody knows. If that's the case, it really would not be that much fun.....my dirty little secret. It's not that I smoke-smoke. I like to sneak a smoke. It feels so bad, so decadent, so, I don't know, wonderfully trashy. So, I'd like to keep it under wraps....my sneak smoking, that is. It's much better that way. Wouldn't want the whole world to know that I like to sneak a smoke. One thing will lead to another and then eventually they will find out about the cage dancing thing. So, mum's the word.....on the smoking. As I was saying, life is getting a little stale. For that matter....the pack of cigarettes I have hidden are probably getting stale too. In any case, as far as some of the things that are becoming sins now that were never sins before....this is where I find myself. These new-to-me sins would include taking a hit of Diet Coke. Eating a fudgescicle instead of a SF popscicle. Swallowing that little piece of onion that I didn't strain out of my broth. Taking a swig of my favorite wine. Lifting my flower box that Carmen didn't quite place right and putting it where I want it. Grabbing the keys to the car and driving somewhere....anywhere. These are the sins that are invading my thoughts. For the most part, I'm your average sinner. Being raised Catholic and knowing all the evil that awaits me should I be a big time sinner, I try to stay on the right side of the 10 Commandments. I do pretty well. But, when I have strayed, being Catholic helped me out. We Catholics are given an out......go to Confession, tell the Priest (I never go face-to-face....seems too rough.....), do your Penance (say 3 Hail Marys, 3 Our Fathers and be nice to your family) and all is well with the world. So, this whole new world of possible sins has me a bit perplexed. See, in my brought-up-Catholic world, those things are part of the "Disobeying" realm of sins. What we call menial sins. Little sins. You are allowed a lot of them (at least I hope so). I guess if you have a huge pile of them and die without telling the priest about them, things might not go exactly as planned. You'd have to hang out in pergatory for awhile before visiting the Holy Gates. But, since I think pergatory closed it's doors awhile back---sort of went out of business---you might just have to wait in the long line at the Gates instead of proceeding directly to see St. Peter with those folks who managed to get a priest to listen to all of their transgressions....even if they had more than you. It's just the way it goes. A result of re-engineering, no doubt. Now, the mortal sins.....well, we won't go there. The only road for those nasty folks goes SOUTH. But, as I was saying....my new list of things that can now be sins have me a bit puzzled. Then, there's the whole problem with having "bad thoughts"......you know...thinking about sinning. Many young boys...my classmates..... found themselves in that situation with Sister John Joseph. Thinking bad thoughts has me scared to this day. The paddle with the holes still swings as far as I am concerned. Since I'm a proponent of thinking of things differently.... maybe I'll look at these "sins" in the world of science.....we know that every action has an equal reaction. At least I think that's the way it goes. (Sounds very similiar to the sin-confess thing now that I think of it). For this discussion, let's assume that's correct.....action=reaction. So, I take a hit of Diet Coke. Or, I eat a fudgescicle? Or, I hop in the car and drive down to 7-11. What happens? Okay, let's say I swallow the onion? Anything? See what I mean.....it's very, very confusing. Tell me I can't murder my arch enemy...the one with the small waist, the big boobs who is also an uber bitch with a damn cute husband who adores her and doesn't know she is cheating on him.........got it. Tell me I can't use a straw.....I'm *this* close to doing it because I'm told I can't. It's not so much that I want to disobey. It's just getting boring. Even the sins that I could commit are boring. I guess that's why I don't want to commit them. Boring is just......well.....boring. Now, sneaking a smoke and cage dancing......not boring, not mentioned in the 10 Commandments.......

1 comment:

Harriet said...

Let's see what Bruce says:

IT'S HARD TO BE A SAINT IN THE CITY
I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra
I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova
I could walk like Brando right into the sun
Then dance just like a Casanova
With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet
Silver star studs on my duds like a Harley in heat
When I strut down the street I could hear its heartbeat
The sisters fell back and said "Don't that man look pretty"
The cripple on the corner cried out "Nickels for your pity"
Them gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the city

I was the king of the alley, mama, I could talk some trash
I was the prince of the paupers crowned downtown at the beggar's bash
I was the pimp's main prophet I kept everything cool
Just a backstreet gambler with the luck to lose
And when the heat came down it was left on the ground
The devil appeared like Jesus through the steam in the street
Showin' me a hand I knew even the cops couldn't beat
I felt his hot breath on my neck as I dove into the heat
It's so hard to be a saint when you're just a boy out on the street

And the sages of the subway sit just like the living dead
As the tracks clack out the rhythm their eyes fixed straight ahead
They ride the line of balance and hold on by just a thread
But it's too hot in these tunnels you can get hit up by the heat
You get up to get out at your next stop but they push you back down in your seat
Your heart starts beatin' faster as you struggle to your feet
Then you're outa that hole and back up on the street

And them South Side sisters sure look pretty
The cripple on the corner cries out "Nickels for your pity"
And them downtown boys sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the city