Holy Thursday is probably the least emotional of the Holy Week holidays for Christians. In the life of Christ, the Last Supper, washing of the feet, Gethsemane, and finally Jesus’ arrest.
It is celebrated today as a veneration of Christ. Christ in the form of the a Blessed Host.
When I was young, as far back as grammar school, Catholics visited different Catholic Churche on Holy Thursday. The interior of each was dark, except for a small altar off to the side. There stood a gold frame within which was the Holy Eucharist. The symbol of God’s body.
The altar upon which it stood was buried in green and white. Green type shrubs and white flowers. My recollection is distinct regarding this.
I was raised that we were to visit an odd number of Churches. Don’t know why odd in number. Some thought the requirement only 7.
Through high school, it was a competition among young friends. See who could visit the most Churches.
We walked from Church to Church. Some 2 miles apart. Saw friends and neighbors along the way. Streets full with people coming and going.
A combined religious and fun time.
Tomorrow a bad day. The Crucifixion of Christ. Another day, another story.
In my trips to Milan, I always stopped into the Duomo Cathedral. Majestically sitting at one end of the Square. A huge edifice. Magnificent.
On one of the trips, it was exceptionally hot. I was tired. Close to exhaustion. One thing I learned in my travels is that Churches are generally cool.
I went in. Like a refrigerator.
I sat down away from the people traffic next to a large concrete post. Fell asleep! An hour later, someone was tapping me on the shoulder to wake me. One of the attendants: “Sir, you cannot sleep here.”
My first thought was that not even God wanted me that afternoon. I forgot to mention at the beginning of this story that I had fallen down the train station steps when I arrived in Milan. I had a cut on my head where the blood had dried. A cut on my arm also. And my right leg hurt like hell!
The attendant probably thought I was a bum looking for a place to hang out.
Why Duomo Cathedral today? The famous opera singer Andrea Bocelli is singing live at the Duomo Cathedral on Easter Sunday. To an empty Church. One pm eastern standard time. His performance should be available on U.S. television.
Two dear friends are Bob Marks and Al Cotoia. From different eras of my life. Though I know both, they do not know each other.
A few days ago, I was playing with my cell phone. I had been having problems with it. I was home self quarantined and Verizon was closed. I thought I had it working. I could not do my short afternoon podcast without it.
I finally was able to see my face for a few seconds. Up close. Made my face look fat. Additionally, my beard had not been trimmed in more than a month. Bushy. My fault. I trim it. I was too lazy. Who was going to see me?
I even had a half inch of hair on my somewhat bald head.
Bob wrote commenting on the beard. Think he said I looked like Santa Claus. Al wrote and said I looked fat. Al’s comment hurt! The truth always does.
My face was on the screen only 10 seconds. I was testing. I thought I deleted it. Obviously not.
Yesterday I dealt with the problem. Trimmed my beard back to normal. Thin and lovely.
The head hair another problem. I have a beautician who trims it for me. She takes a power razor, puts it on “1” and runs it over my head 1, 2, 3. All done!
I never cut my hair with any tool. I gave it a shot with by electric beard razor. I was terrific! Got it all off!
When I was done with everything, I felt like little Jack Horner. Remember, he was sitting in a corner eating his pumpkin pie, stuck in his thumb, and pulled out a plumb. And said, Oh, what a good boy am I!
I felt like Jack Horner.
My thanks to Bob and Al in motivating me. I look beautiful! And thinner!
Key West is located in Monroe County. The coronavirus numbers continue to rise.
Total, 52 cases. Seven hospitalized. Three have died. The most recent a 31 year old woman. Twenty four of the 52 cases located in Key West
Deaths state wide total 24.
Moses said to Pharaoh, “Let my people go!”
People today say coronavirus should go.
Read a comment by Hemingway concerning Key West in the 1930’s. The years Hemingway lived in Key West. Key West was extremely poor at the time. The depression in its peak.
Hemingway nevertheless loved the life style of Key West. He referred to it as “the St. Tropez of the poor.”
I have written about Mom’s Tea Room several times. A whore house, a house of ill repute.
First run in Key West. Closed down by the authorities. Reopened on Stock Island.
The bordello did a big business on Stock Island. The Navy base was stationed nearby with horny young sailors.
One problem. The Navy did not approve. Morally and health wise. The Navy was constantly harassing the civil authorities to close Mom’s down.
The situation contained a bit of humor. Local authorities never admitted the existence of Mom’s. Nor did the Navy. Finally however the Navy pressure behind the scenes became too much and the locals closed Mom’s down.
The financial crisis attendant to coronavirus affects government jobs, also. Monroe County announced it would be laying off 100 of its 525 employees.
I was born in 1935. We did not have a telephone till sometime during World War II. A dial phone. Four party line. Then a two party line. Then our line!
Prior to dial phones, calls were made through an operator. You called the operator and gave her the number to connect you to.
The Keys were a little late in getting dial phones. Actually, quite late.
The first dial phone in the Keys was installed in 1960 in a home on Sugarloaf Key.
I lived in my Key Haven home 23 years. It sat on open water. Views spectacular.
Sunrise was a special time. On occasion, I would role out of bed early and sit outside. Watch the sun come up. Very quiet that early. No one around, except for 3 dolphins playing 100-2000 feet away from me. Up and down, up and down.
I assumed they were a family. Father, mother and child. The family continued for several years. Then there were only 2. I assumed the child had taken off on his own. Could never be sure, however.
The remaining 2 continued their playful time at sunrise for years thereafter.
Those few moments in the morning were reminiscent of God’s in His Heaven, all’s right with the world.
I conclude with some “kind” thoughts re Trump. Actually not mine. Those of the New York Times columnist Frank Bruni. Though I agree with everything he wrote.
Bruni’s words/thoughts from his opinion column yesterday.
“He’s a man whose soul went missing.”
Trump does not tell the truth, is petty, mean, has a martyr complex, and passes the buck.
“He’s ill equipped for this moment.”
“This prophet just demands an even greater magnitude of worship. And he grows all the more furious when he doesn’t get it.”
Day 30 for me of self-quarantine. I’m doing well. If I did’t research and write, I might not.
How a quarantined person lives. One phase. Groceries.
I have them delivered from Publix. Just arrived. I had to leave to clean the groceries and store them. I wash everything (and I mean everything) with a disinfectant. Then store. Most in freezer.
Wearing plastic gloves, of course.
Process takes a while. I am tired at the moment.
Still alive though.
I figure another 30 days to go. I’ll make it.
My friend Theo Markis called from Greece a few minutes ago while I was working on the blog. A good man. We met last year when he was visiting Key West.
Reads the blog every day. Love him! He was to have visited Key West 2 months ago again. Obviously could not. Greece has the coronavirus problem also. Not the big deal as here. Only 50-70 died so far. However, as with the U.S., no one working.
Enjoy your day!
