52. On Our Own

I’m never annoyed  to be consistently chosen to go to the hardware store when there’s a need for a part.  And it’s always a toilet part.  The lady behind the counter probably thinks I’m fixing the same toilet over and over and that I must overuse and abuse it.  But I hesitate to explain myself, that I'm the buying agent for twenty two of the oldest toilets on the mountain.   I’m reminded of my bachelor uncle who was embarrassed by the sound of a revolving roll of toilet paper when the bathroom was in use.  He went down to his basement workshop and invented a noiseless roller.   But he was too embarrassed to patent it.

I suppose someone has to interface with the outside world and an older Brother is a good choice, since he possesses a degree of maturity.  Or something like that.  And after all, I did work in a hardware store for a short time years ago.  I remember counting a lot of nails before a customer explained to me they were sold by the pound.

We inmates of OLWS seem to doing a lot of  outside errands lately.  I drive Agnes around and am free to explore the countryside on my own while the abbot is meeting with “his woman” and planning the sale of the monastery.   Raiser has been doing office work at the local parish church one day each week since he ran out of research ideas and made himself a nuisance in the Pit.  Also, Bouncer tells me he will soon be allowed to drive the SUV.  I wonder if Agnes is re-introducing us to the outside so life in the world won’t be a total shock.  That might mean Agnes and the Gang of McFour plan to kick us out and leave us on our own in Saugerties, a somewhat scary thought.  Of course, it also means we won’t be welcome in Fermoy, County Cork, Ireland.   And certainly no American brothers could afford to take us, given the financial problems common to all religious orders today.

I’ve always thought of myself as an independent person.  But with the specter of life in the world facing me,  I realize how dependent I’ve become on my brothers.  I suppose the great Benedict could have meant for monastic life to be that way.  But he didn’t have his monastery sold out from underneath him.  The world is a scary place.

Or maybe we could put a little band together ....


Rush - Working Man



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