Okay, I'm home from Christmas morning mass.
Back in Studio City for acoupla weeks. Since I left this chaos of LA and moved to that civilization of Arkansas, there's not much I've missed about this City of Devils.
In addition to those favorites, I have missed my church. Not that I ever made myself known to my parish "family," still, I miss that sacred place. Especially on high holy days. For any number of reasons, not the least of which: Don't swing near as much incense in the Ouachitas as we do in the Santa Monicas. To say nothing of Father Ian. What a good shepherd.
Saint Thomas Hollywood -- I love that name -- is a great spot to sing, or, in my case, to listen to singing, to laugh, to cry and especially to pray. Thanks, Fr. Ian.
This is no day to spend online, so I'm outta here, leaving you now with last year's favorite:
Yes, yes, tain't Christmas without them Bells of Dublin.
In The Mailbox: 11.04.24
4 hours ago
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