The New and Improved Crucifixion
At Mass today, I almost cried during the Passion play. In my parish, the high school student group, dressed in black and wearing mimeface, acts out the Passion while one of their number, dressed in usual church clothes, narrates. They haven't done this my whole life, but I can't specifically tell you when they started. Maybe when I was in middle school (1990-1993)? I can't remember the last time I heard a traditional Gospel reading on Palm Sunday. Jesus, Pontius Pilate, Barrabus, Simon the Cyrenian, the gang's all there. Oddly enough, The L.A.W. took part when she was in high school. Anyway, it's wicked powerful; so, keep your snickers to yourself.

I've got a newly blessed palm; last week, I went to confession for the first time since the early Clinton Administration and Mom and I attended stations of the cross; today, I bought a Tootsie role from the Knights of Columbus (I can't eat it until next Sunday); and now it's Holy Week. Plus, this week I'm going to put together "The Religion Issue" of The Newsletter, intentionally timed to coincide with Easter. Like most of us, I have neglected Easter for most of my life. The only perfect human being to have ever lived was executed for the sins of all the world; three days later, He was resurrected. But because we only get chocolate and not scandalous heaps of presents, Easter takes a backseat to Christmas. Weak. So, I am going to make as big a deal as I can out of Holy Week and Easter.

Start likin' it.

Bracketology
My picks are doing ridiculously bad in the Big Dance, but that's okay. I used up my lifetime allotment of good tournament luck the year I successfully picked Duke over Arizona, incorrectly guessed the final score by only one point, and won the 1213 house pool. Woot!