Thursday, January 25, 2007

Childlessness

The western calendar is a lumbering thing; it was established by Julius Caesar in 47 BC and has trudged forward ever since. Along the way it has required retooling to keep its progression of days and months in line with the cycles of the moon and stars.

In fact, due to a mistake in the original design of the calendar, ten days were deleted one year by edict of the Pope. It was the summer of 1582 and the Vatican discovered that Caesar's year was twelve-and-a-half minutes too long. Consequently, after centuries of this inaccuracy the calendar had been thrown way off. So Pope Gregory XIII - a man of action - decreed that every year divisible by 400 should become a leap year to compensate. He further decreed that ten days in October of 1582 were to be deleted so that the calendar could catch up. October 4, 1582 was to be called October 15, 1582 and no arguments were heard.

Just like that, ten days of everyone's life was gone. What if your birthday fell on October tenth? What if you had reservations at a hotel in Tunis on the eighth? Of course the jump ahead was a bonus to the imprisoned everywhere.

My friend Alan said he thought the Pope did this because one of his kids had a test at school on a day that was deleted and hadn't studied for it. Alan believed the Vatican public relations machine wanted to avoid the negative attention a Pope kids' failure might bring to the Pontiff, the Vatican and the Church at large. I explained to Alan that the Pope is always celibate and has no children. Alan was electrified by this news because he also has no children and it's not easy for him to meet other mature men who don't have kids. He wanted to meet the current Pope as soon as possible.

Alan started pouring out his heart in letters to the Pope. He wrote constantly and passionately about his feelings and how close he felt to the Pope since every one that Alan knew had children and it was tough socializing. He fantasized in his letters about going on weekend trips with the Pope and maybe getting in some fishing. His letters went unanswered for a time.

After a few months two enormous priests who said they were good friends of the Pope visited Alan. They inquired as to why Alan was so enamored of the Holy Father and he told them it was because he had no children just like the Pope. Then the priests asked if Alan planned to have children in the future. He said that once he met the right woman he would. The priests replied that if Alan would like ever to meet those children he should stop writing letters to His Holiness. They then left abruptly.

Later, Alan told me nervously that the postage to Rome was getting a little expensive anyway.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Norman:
I love your blog to death. I feel as though we are sitting around a table at the beach house, sipping on a cold one, while you tell me a little bit about the meaning of life (or maybe Allen's version of the same). Although I took the Monty Python correspondence course on the M.O.L., and tried my best, I failed. Just wanted you to know that you have a regular and appreciative audience of at least one. I think I'd be ready for the first quiz. But then, I felt that way with the Monty Python course too...

Your faithful student,
Paco