Well, I guess you could say the old Goat got painted white last night. After years of professing to be a "recovering Catholic," I went through RCIA (Confirmation classes,) and once again rejoined the fold, with all the appropriate ceremony last night. The typical time when this is done, usually when a child is about 12-13 years old, was overtaken in *my* life by the chaos that ensued following my parent's divorce. Score yet another point for accomlishing in mid-life what I probably should have gotten to sooner, but hadn't, by virtue of anger, attitude, or just plain lack of interest. Dad and Cheryl were there, and Martha was confirmed at the same time. Oddly, there didn't seem to be that many other people I figured would have been all that interested in witnessing such an event. On Martha's side, her sister's oustanding commentary had to do with the fact that "you might as well be Buddhists!" Uncalled-for Protestant anger, one might almost think. As for for the rest of my family, well, first of all, sorry, Mom, but I wasn't about to risk your left-of-center attitude towards anything remotely conventional. I just can't see where you really would have "gotten" it, and I wasn't going to run the risk of any untoward commentary. In not eating meat on Good Friday, my brother, who took me out to dinner following my assistance as he initiated a small building project, followed my lead and ordered the fish and chips. Small steps. Perhaps he's not quite the Atheist he figures he is. Once again, the truth, and the satisfaction in it, lay more in having the right information than anything else. What as a teenager or young man I might have viewed as arbitrary dogma, I now see had meaning, at least at some point in history. It hasn't been all that long that the Roman Catholic Church has been coming out of a rather stoic, tradition-based dynamic, but following Vatican II in the 60s, and polished by Pope John Paul II, may he rest in peace, well, this is NOT your father's Catholic Church. For those not in the know, no, all the masses are NOT in Latin anymore, which, on the basis of what I have learned, is the spear-point of the change in dynamic, creating a more involved, active Catholic church. There are still acts and positions of the church's I don't entirely see eye-to-eye with, but overall, I can overlook some things, and keep some thoughts to myself. The bottom line remains, by virtue of everything I have ever known about myself, I'm still Catholic at heart. And happy to have set something else in my life right. Morality can tend to slap you in the face as a teacher, particularly after having been in a modern high school; I would advise anyone who's not ready to not see things the way they remember them to stay far-removed from a modern high school. It's just like that. I shall not venture into having gone to confession for the first time in my life, that's between me and the priest; I didn't confess to anything awful, nothing that a relatively minor penance didn't gain me absolution for, but there it is. I'm Catholic, and it's a pretty sizable portion of who I am. And the fact that it helped me connect myself further to the woman I have betrothed myself to, that's the icing on the cake, as far as I'm concerned. Future plans call for us to dedicate ourselves to one another again, *within* the bounds of the Catholic Church, and any notions I have ever had of a Viking-style funeral, where my body is laid to rest in a wooden boat and subsequently set ablaze, well, that, perhaps, is the stuff of a younger, less settled Pete. Sprinkling my ashes over Road America race track in Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin, is perhaps still an option, but at this point, having already come near dying once, I am content to live, think of living, and live as well, and as right as I can, for the sake of myself, my children, and ultimately, my students, who I know are also watching me. Amen.