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I shit you not

November 13th, 2006 · No Comments · Daily, Potpourri

This weekend I became a godfather. The designation is largely honorary, but I’m nonetheless very touched that Kenny and Cathy asked us to be a part of their daughter’s life in this manner. It never occurred to me to ask them what led them to choose us, or whether there was much deliberation involved. To be honest, I’m not that concerned with whether we were their first and obvious choice. To sum up: I love that family with all my heart, and given that I have considered them part of mine for so long, I feel great joy in knowing that the kinship is now in some small way formalized.

I have to admit that I somewhat selfishly hope to be a positive and frequent enough influence on Tabitha that perhaps, at least once or twice in her social life apart from me, she feels it appropriate to relate, to her friends who do not know me, stories of things we experienced together and refer to me by the honorific. “My godfather was in town and we sang Karaoke to Classic Rock. You know, like Green Day, and the Foo Fighters. All that stuff the old farts used to listen to.”

Maybe it will never happen. Maybe it will, and she’ll merely mention “Justin” or “my friend.” The selfishness lies in that I hope Tabitha sees us as more than “my parents’ friends.” You know, like we’re just those weirdos she sees every now and then when Mom and Dad have weenie roasts or monthly Canasta games or whatever it is that old married people get together to do while their kids sit in another room and play their 3d video games or centrifugal bumblepuppy. I don’t know the first damn thing about Canasta, but I hope as the years go by, and as Tabitha becomes more than just the adorable thing that sits on Mommy and smiles at us, Tabitha looks forward to our visits as much as I looked forward to going to visit the Wilsons or Uncle Harley and Aunt Ninny or John and Rhonda or the Welches.

The dedication ceremony took place during a regular Sunday service at Cathy’s church, which is a Unitarian Universalist congregation. Though I’ll admit it isn’t “my thing” (nor am I interested in attending regular meetings at any religious establishment, creedless or otherwise), I can honestly see how people could be drawn to such a group. It is evident that most of these people genuinely care about the world and people around them. There’s something unintentionally South Parkesque about attending a worship service in the company of Christians, Buddhists, Taoists and Agnostics, listening to a sermon with little or no mention of God titled, I shit you not, “Would Lao Tzu Fling Poo?

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