Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Good Pope John and me

My mom recently pulled out an old baby picture of me and told me I looked like the Pope, with a beatific expression and a hand raised in blessing. "It was a sign!" says she.

Blessed John XXIII seems the likeliest candidate... you be the judge. :)

I'm two months old in that picture, and boy was I fat. Topped ten pounds at birth and thirty pounds at one year. Look at that double chin! Mom says as a child I often reminded her of the chubby puppy in "101 Dalmations"-- the one who's forever saying, "I'm hungry, Mama, I'm hungry!"

4 comments:

Rachel Ann said...

This is AMAZING. Description of the mitigated should to appear on my blog shortly. Much love. Miss you.

James Bernard said...

You were smug even then!

James Bernard said...

"Smug" in Webster's; 1. neat, spruce, trim etc. 2. narrowly contented with one's own accomplishments, beliefs, morality, etc.;self-satisfied to an annoying degree; complacent...They all fit!

Rachel Gray said...

The problem with being perfect is that you come off as smug; it's a heavy cross but I bear it well.

Reminds me of a song by Steve Taylor:

Strike this little pose
Chin up in the air
Lips together tightly
Nostrils in a flare
Now look like you care
Oooo, very nice!

Practice in the mirror
Brushing back a tear
Very sincere
A promising career
could begin right here at home
If you've got that smug...
That smug...

CHORUS

Hey mama hey mama lookit what your little babies all have become
Hey mama hey mama don't it ever make you wish you'd been a nun?
Vain and fickle, were we weaned on a pickle?
Is it in our blood?
Rome is burning
We're here turning smug

Strike another pose
Power politics
Swallow their conventions
Get your power fix
We love to mud wrestle
We love being politically Koreshed

Practice that smug
Post it like a man
One part Master Limbaugh
Two parts Madame Streisand
Now pretend you're in a band
My, my, we're looking smug
Very very very very

(CHORUS)

All you smug-starved millions in the thick of the search
Welcome to our church
Whatcha wanna solve?
We can help you evolve
from merely self-righteous
To perfectly smug

Strike the proud pose of our country club brethren
Friendly as a tomb
Fragrant as the bottom of a locker-room broom
Now what's the matter?
Hey...get off your knees...
that part don't come 'til later...
God will not be pleased...!

(CHORUS)