I didn’t always have five children and a wife. It wasn’t that long ago that I had no children and zero wives. On TV, they make bachelorhood seem a paradise of freedom and adventure. Not for me it wasn’t.
The missus and me just blew past our fifteenth wedding anniversary—a mini-milestone. Not to be glib…oh, never mind, glib it is…I’d rather be in jail than be single again.
The carefree life of a stallion was never the one for me. In those days I was Johnny Lonelyboy. Maybe you’ve been there too?
My restless heart had an emptiness. No time did I have for religion. I spent many an hour devising my own. It had a liturgy and some saints. It had sacred texts and heavenly hymns.
My way of worship was the wanderer’s way. Bartenders, not priests, prepared the high altar. We lit cigarettes, not candles. Irony, sarcasm, and wild abandon stood in the places where sanctity, grace, and sobriety should have shined.
Things are different now. The cigarettes are all ashes. I have rare occasion to enter a saloon—or even a salon. But you can’t keep me out of the Church of the Four Marks—one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic.