TLM Southeast Florida: Alligator Alley and the Latin Mass

I am so intrigued by the number of comments surrounding my posts about how I believe men should dress. I’d like to address some of them here.

A gentleman named Pavel commented on my last post. He stated that, “If you have no money, it is hard to dress right.” well, Pavel, that’s only half true. Let me explain.

As a home-schooled young man many years ago, I made many trips to the library. I’m talking about the actual library. This was in the early 1990’s, just prior to the internet’s ubiquitousness as we know it today. We had to do this thing called research. It involved card catalogs and microfiche and interacting with people behind desks. During one of my journeys downtown to the main branch (complete with actual stacks) I ended up taking out a book on etiquette. It was, in fact, the book on etiquette – Emily Post’s Etiquette.

I found it fascinating. Look, I was homeschooled. The freedom I was given over my own didache meant I could follow all kinds of interests. I saw the title on the shelf while looking for something else and was intrigued. So I checked it out.

The first lines of the book stood out to me not only because they made so much sense as to be self-evident, but also because they seemed contrary to everything I’d ever heard about the subject. I will paraphrase.

“Etiquette is nothing more than making the people around you as comfortable as possible within the bounds of good taste.”

That’s a great rule to live by. Miss Post herself was spelling out the formula right off the bat. It didn’t matter if you knew whether or not to extend a hand to a lady who hadn’t introduced herself first or whether you should use the tiny fork first. If you used your common sense and your cogitative powers and if your intention was to practice fraternal Charity (setting others at ease in a tense social setting), then you’ve already won. I have used that advice in life so many times it isn’t funny.

And good dress is like an extension of good manners.

Think about it.

1) Common Sense: dress appropriately for your state in life and the task at hand. I’ve talked a lot about wearing a jacket to daily mass. I would not wear that same jacket while digging a trench. Duh.

2) Cogitative Powers: Think before you dress. God gave you the ability to reason and to discern. Who are you? Where are you going? With whom will you interact? Pull it all together and make your decision. Is the thing I would like to wear outside the bounds of my budget? Then be prudent.

3) Fraternal Charity: This goes both ways. Dress in a way to put others at ease but also remember that others should never be offended when you’ve done your best. I’ve seen college students (proverbially poor) show up to events looking phenomenal because they wore the best of what they have and they held their heads high with dignity. I’ve also seen millionaires (in fact, a well known Catholic TV personality) show up to Sunday mass week after week dressed to golf – because that’s where he was going immediately after mass. The thing is, I knew he owned suits far nicer than mine. It bothered me.

Pavel, if you are short on cash at the moment, do not fret. Cleanliness and being your best do not cost a dime. I remember reading stories of the saints when I was a boy. I was amazed at how, for instance, the father of St. Catherine Laboure, despite laboring in the fields, kept one nice set of clothes to wear on Sunday. It wasn’t “fancy” but it was his best. Seriously, Pavel, email me and I’ll help you figure it out. More than anything, it’s an attitude.

So to drive home the point about the appropriateness of one’s attire… While traveling across the southern tip of Florida today we stopped in the Everglades and took a tour on a fan boat. Our pilot stopped within a few feet of a gator who hissed at me. I thought I would die. But for that excursion, I was in shorts, a tee shirt, and a ball cap. I was in a literal swamp.

I decided to name him Bergogli-gator. It just seemed like the thing to do.

Hours later, I found myself at St. Agnes church in Naples, FL. This is the location where Corpus Christi Latin Mass Parish has a daily Mass. I pulled into a gas station, went inside, and, you guessed it, changed into a shirt and trousers with a jacket. I’ve got one jacket with me this week as I travel light but it works for its purpose.

Also, the Mass was pretty well-attended. This makes me happy to see packed Latin Masses. I will be there every day this week. So for a fun experiment, if you also worship at this parish and you see a stranger in a light blue sports coat, don’t be afraid to approach him after mass and say hello. If, however, you think his writing is garbage, then approach the older lady in the veil seated nearby and tell her. That man’s mother-in-law will not mind at all. She just loves making new friends.

Bonus: Swamp Vid

These creatures are terrible.

Virgin Most Faithful, pray for us!

St. Maria Goretti, pray for us!

Dressing for Fraternal Charity -*Slight Off-color Commentary Below

A few days ago I wrote a post about how men should dress. Since I am a man and I wear clothes I figured I would start with myself. Today I put that lecture into practice.

The day started obscenely early. Everyone in the house was up at 5 so we could get our last minute packing completed. I mentioned that I’ve already started wearing at minimum a jacket to daily mass. Mass this morning – for my family – was at 7AM and from there we’d be heading to the airport.

I always remember my dad telling me about the golden age of airline travel. “Back then (pre-1970) people would dressed up to travel. It was an adventure and you had to look your best because it was required.”

Today, I dressed up to board a plane.

And I rocked it.

Commanding respect at every turn – from TSA to the concessionaires to the gate agents and flight attendants – I turned heads. It didn’t take much. I wore a light blue sport coat over a white dress shirt with a pair of navy trousers. That’s it. But contrast that image with the tank tops and booty shorts and general skin-on-display freak show that is a modern airport terminal and you will understand why I stood out.

I strode through the concourse with a swagger I didn’t know I possessed. My shoulders were back and broadened over my tapering frame. It’s amazing how good clothing will do that for you especially since I do not have a tapering frame. Confident doesn’t begin to describe my attitude this morning boarding a flight for a family vacation to Florida. Others looked like they were bound for a theme park from hell. I could have easily been heading to Mar-a-lago. And I want to emphasize I did not spend a fortune on this getup. The jacket cost $10 at a thrift store.

On the plane I sat back and took out a book I’ve been slowly making my way through for months. Many of you probably know it well. See the picture below. The drinks came free. I was not in first class but was treated like I was. I cannot say it was the attire but I cannot not say that either.

My in-flight vibe

The best part about this experience is that, despite the soaring temperatures, I was cool as a cucumber.

I looked good and I felt good and people noticed.

This is how, in my truly humble opinion, we should do it. I’m tired of dressing like a boy running onto a rugby pitch just because that’s what everyone else does. For, when we dress our best, it shows forth our respect for others. A random woman in the elevator even told me so. “My you look very nice today!” she said as she smiled. I thanked her and smiled back. I hope I made her day.

Unfortunately my daughter and I encountered a perfect example of the opposite of this idea when we got to our hotel. We went downstairs for a dip in the pool. A young couple whom I will charitably assume are misguided sauntered past us. The guy was wearing knee-length board shorts. His lady friend appeared to have been clad in dental floss. I turned to my daughter and asked (quite cattily), “Ever hear of side boob?” She nodded and laughed. “That poor thing is missing so much fabric, she’s got underboob.” My daughter laughed heartily and replied, “And her butt’s falling out too.” Forgive the off-color tone but we decided to write an action story based on what we witnessed. It will be called The Adventures of Underboob and Sideass. Hey, we had to witness it so you get to hear about it. It will be tastefully written. No illustrations though.

Seriously, folks. Modesty means covering the things that God intends to be revealed only to certain people or for certain purposes. I’ve said before that suits make a man look more manly. See the remark about my tapering frame above. And there is nothing more beautiful or feminine than a modestly dressed woman.

And once again the Blessed Mother will come through for me. I’ve already lined up daily Latin masses for every day of this trip.

God is good to me – far better than I deserve.

Men, suit up. It’s your duty.

Mother Most Pure, pray for us!

St. Christopher, pray for us!

Pro Deo et Pro Patria

First, a big thanks to you my readers and friends, for indulging me on that last post. I’ve had that thought on my mind for a while and was looking for a slow news day to write it.

Today we celebrated the 4th of July. My family and I are very fortunate – blessed beyond measure in many ways. These days, that could simply mean (as it does) that we can still fill our car several times a week. But one particular area of life stands out; and that is the city in which we live.

Anyone who really knows me knows that I’ve had my heart set on returning to my native east coast for as long as I’ve lived in Texas. That is not a disparaging commentary on Texas. Some of the greatest blessings I’ve ever had have been precisely because I live here. Take for instance my mother-in-law, who in many ways is like a best friend. We get along so well. She brought me into the Latin Mass. We see each other every day (at Latin Mass). This place has its downsides too. It’s 105 degrees in the shade at 9AM this time of year. So there’s a definite trade off. In fact, it’s mostly the climate (and a desire to help take care of my own dear mother in her older years).

One thing this town does right, however, is that somehow it has maintained a stereotypical small town feel despite being a rather large sized city. At no other time is this more apparent than on the 4th of July. Before mass we headed out to the city’s Independence Day parade. The color guard, the fire truck, civic groups tossing candy from floats… There was no Uncle Sam on stilts but I can’t expect everything.

It is an annual tradition that I actually like a lot. It reminds me of an America that once was great and of the greatness that once was America.

If your intellect hasn’t been completely darkened by unrepentant mortal sin (that is, if you’re not driving around alone in a car with two masks on) you know what I’m talking about. To borrow some phrases from President Trump’s 2020 stump speech, this is the nation that built the railroads and reached the moon. We freed the slaves and freed Europe. This land gave us Harriet Tubman and Fulton Sheen. I could go on. All of these things make me proud. Of our past.

Resting place of Ven. Fulton Sheen, Peoria, IL

We also export abortifacients and pornography like they’re going out of style. We are the new Sodom. We imprison political dissidents. We have murdered generations of our own people. We turn men into boys and then boys into girls and then declare that a woman is whatever anyone wants a woman to be. We cannot escape the freemasonic foundations of this place…

We are Rome.

For a brief moment this morning I forgot all the bad things and was taken back to a happier time – that “shining city on a hill” President Reagan talked about so cheerfully.

Then we went to Mass.

I was reminded here that our home is no country on this earth. The state should exist to support the Church – the Catholic Church – in Her mission of saving souls because those souls were created for our true home in heaven – our true native land, as the last line of O Salutaris reminds us. Nobis donet in Patria!

And yet the true virtue of patriotism still wells up in my heart on a day like this. I love my country. I love what she once was and what I pray she will become again. I pray for our leaders even if they are illegitimately reigning. I pray for the “Catholic” leaders who promote baby murder especially. But my focus must be on God and on His Incarnate Son who died so I might live with Him forever in my true home.

For God and for country.

Pro Deo et pro Patria.

May God bless the United States! And may we always focus on our eternal home above all else. The Immaculate Heart of the Virgin will triumph. Remember that.

O Blessed Virgin Mary, Immaculate Conception, pray for us, the people of these 50 states under Thy patronage!

Thinking of You… Gross

Several years back, before we knew his depths of depravity, my mom gave me a book of the collected weekly columns of Theodore McCarrick. The book, titled Thinking of You, contains hundreds of Teddy’s weekly columns that appeared in The Catholic Standard, the archdiocesan newspaper for Washington. McCarrick had written the column for 14 years prior to assuming that see when he was Archbishop of Newark. I’ve held onto the book only because I think it might be a collectors item at this point. That is, if one is a collector of the bizarre.

Every so often I will pull the book off the shelf and thumb through the pages. What amazes me is just how ambiguous the words are. Much like the vaunted documents of Vatican II, every missive in this tome could be read with a straight face and could have been written by a straight man. It is only in knowing the backstory that one sees the hidden and disgusting rot that pervades this man’s evil mind. Take the following for instance.

“Even though I know that some of you in your great kindness might have some feelings of sadness about my retirement, I really want to assure you that the coming of Archbishop Donald Wuerl is the best thing that could happen to this beloved Archdiocese of Washington. He is truly a good man.”

“A Very Good Man”, May 18, 2006

First, diabolical narcissist much? The first few words read like a Facebook post of a 13 year-old girl. “Like and share if you don’t think I’m not pretty.” On the surface it seems like a banal, congratulatory note of approval for one’s successor. Yet McCarrick knew full well that Wuerl was not a good man. He was one of Teddy’s handpicked boys, someone who had presided over a funeral mass for a priest who had been murdered by a gay rent boy, assuring the congregation that the man was in heaven. No, when McCarrick said Wuerl was a good man, he meant “he’ll do exactly what I trained him to do and that is to wreck the Church.”

It’s kind of like how when Sacrosanctum Concillium says that Latin is to be retained in so many words, yet we end up with a Church who’s mother tongue is all but forgotten because “hey, we still drop a literal word of Latin in once a year or so”. And technically they’re right.

Funny how the key players in attempting to topple the Church all knew the same tricks, isn’t it?

Thinking of you… Gross. Please don’t.

UPDATED: You’re a Grand Old Flag!

Friends, this is just a quick post tonight. I worked hard today. I’m tired but satisfied. A brother parishioner (and I do hope that each of you reading can find a TLM parish where you make these kind of lifelong, like-minded friends) came over and helped with a project.

We put up a flagpole!

I mentioned recently that I had purchased a Sacred Heart flag from Deborah. The flag arrived a few days ago. But sitting in the packaging does nothing to tell the world that Christ is King over my quarter-acre. Last year for Father’s Day, my kids (and wife) had given me a 20’, made-in-the-USA, aluminum, telescoping flagpole. Today was finally the day to set it in concrete.

Have you ever been to Texas? Did you know that there’s a layer of topsoil and that just about 10 inches below that is nothing but clay? Did you further know that after weeks of 100+ degree heat and no rain, clay basically becomes adobe brick?

Yeah… I found that out today.

We dug.

We dug some more.

After two hours with frequent breaks for shade and water we were all of 16” deep. That would be fine except we had to go 26” down.

My friend (a landscaper by trade) spritzed some water at the hole from my garden hose. Nothing happened. It’s that dry.

That’s when I grabbed a bottle of Epiphany Water – the atomic holy water – and sprinkled literally a drop into the hole. I quietly said, “Lord Jesus Christ, please dispatch Thy holy angels to loosen this soil so we can finish this project and honor Thy Sacred Heart.”

We sat down for five minutes; something about a beer and a smoke.

And then I picked up the shovel and removed ten inches of mud and dirt in two minutes.

A few hours later, once everything had cured, we have this…

Adveniat Regnum Tuum!

On Monday I will probably raise Old Glory to commemorate the 246th anniversary of New Jersey’s independence from Great Britain. And after that? I think the Sacred Heart dripping His Precious Blood needs to fly high over my house for a long while.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on me, a sinner!

Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us!

Mother Cabrini, pray for us!

Padre Pio, pray for us!

Holy Guardian Angel, my monitor and friend, pray for us!

Bonus!

Happily, happily, happily, May the reign of Christ come!

Two Rites Don’t Make a Right: Why Mutual Enrichment Was Wrong All Along (and Bonus Round-up)

Today is the First Class Feast of the Most Precious Blood of Our Lord. Praised be God! This feast commemorates the awe-inspiring shedding of the Blood of Jesus Christ – from His Circumcision to His Agony in the Garden to His Scourging and Crowning with Thorns to His Crucifixion. In particular I like to meditate on the Lancing His lifeless Body received at the hands of a Roman soldier. Each and every Drop was shed for you and for me. In fact, the first Drop spilled from His circumcision would have been enough to save the entire world but He continued on to show the depths of His love for us. Simply beautiful.

Crucifix, Shrine of Ss. Cyril and Methodius, Dubina, TX

This, of course, is not at all celebrated in Novie land. There I go again. Forgive what sounds like a slur. In the current General Roman Calendar – the one that senselessly saw the feasts of dozens of saints removed as merely legend and fable and others like St. Benedict moved from March to July – today is the Memorial of Fr. Serra. Don’t get me wrong. Junipero Serra was a great man. I’ve visited his missions in California. That being said, the whole thing points to a bigger issue.

I was chatting with some fellow parishioners this morning and, as always seems to be the case in a trad parish, the conversation turned its way to, “Can we eat meat today?” Trying to reason the whole thing out in my mind yet not taking a side, I joined in with, “Well in the 1983 Code of Canon Law, solemnities are not days of fasting when they fall on a Friday.” I then asked out of genuine curiosity whether a first class feast is equivalent to a solemnity. There does not appear to be a clear answer. Remember that trad parishes are kind of the bastard orphan-child afterthought of Vatican II and now it seems Bergoglio would like to see them and their members returned to the steps of the foundlings home.

I consulted with a friend who gave it his best shot and told me that in the new calendar the Precious Blood feast was abolished, melded into Corpus Christi which is technically called (now) Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and BLOOD of the Lord. OK, so why was that done? Who the hell knows. Innovation or something. No one can explain it. But my friend further explained that since this feast doesn’t really exist (in the contemporary calendar) and since trads don’t use the language of “solemnity”, one could celebrate with a steak dinner but might want to pray an extra rosary. I appreciated his effort.

Or, as one of the women in my conversation said while throwing her hands up, “I guess it all depends on how hard you want to trad.”

Two forms and one rite, right? Actually, don’t we have at least three forms in that one rite what with the Anglican Ordinariate’s liturgy and all? I mean, they’re still Roman. But wait… ever since Traditiones Custodes, they say that the Missal of 1970 is the sole expression of the Roman Rite or possibly its two later revisions.

It has been theorized by not a few people that Pope Benedict in Summorum Pontificum used the language of “ordinary” and “extraordinary” forms so as to avoid priests of the Roman Rite needing additional faculties – faculties that might never be granted them by a vengeful bishop. Remember also that Benedict expressed hope that the two “forms” would provide “mutual enrichment” for one another. So how has that been working out? A single chanted Kyrie in a Novus Ordo mass during Lent?

Yet here we are. Figuring out a simple calendar of saints is more confusing than the menu at Cheesecake Factory and the Ordo about twice as long.

Do we really have one Roman Rite?

You know the answer.

And for that matter, doesn’t the confusion caused in the violent upheaval of the public worship of the church overnight signal that something is awry?

Oh I get it! We were all supposed to just follow blindly and never question anything! Unfortunately some things can’t be unseen nor unlearned. I mean think about it. We are literally being told by a man not canonically elected to anything that the venerable worship of the Church is kaput and we’re being naughty for clinging to things like a feast day to celebrate our redemption? I’ll never forget as a child learning that my older brother had taken the name of a saint – Christopher – for confirmation only to find out he “wasn’t a saint anymore” from one of his teachers. My father dusted off the bullshit flag and ran that one up the pole real fast. My brother lives happily under the patronage of the patron of travelers to this day.

Think about it.

Round-up

I’m going to throw a little bomb here and then walk away. But it seems many women in trad communities are vehemently opposed to their infant sons being circumcised. That may be some overlap between the trad circle and the granola circle honestly. It’s an unusual Venn diagram. Just an observation.

Also, a reader emailed me with some excellent information on men wearing hats! Specifically , he listed some shops and gave general ideas to help get you started. Remember, gentlemen, the protocol for a gentleman (never a “guy” or *shudder* a “lad”) is to cover one’s head when outdoors. Remove the cover when indoors except in crowded lobbies and elevators. And ALWAYS remove the hat when the Holy Name of Jesus is mentioned in your presence. If that Name is used in blasphemy, you should also 1) correct the offender and 2) say a quick prayer of reparation. “My Jesus, Mercy!” works just fine. I will post more on the hat advice later.

Finally, my Sacred Heart “Adveniat Regnum Tuum” flag arrived! I am so excited to display this that I’ll be erecting a 20’ flagpole out front for the occasion. Email me for instructions on how to order one. No, I am not the seller.

Here’s to a wonderful weekend and I hope you all had a blessed Feast of the Precious Blood!

Mother of Sorrows, pray for us!

St. Christopher, pray for us!

I Never Thought I’d Become a Fashion Expert but Here We Are

I received the following email from a reader this morning.

Hi, Harvey. Do you have any suggestions for where men could shop for clothes in line with what you suggest? Ms. Barnhardt suggested eShakti.com for the ladies.

Here is my response.

Thanks for your question, and a good question it is! I will admit up front that I get to cheat a bit at this one. I have a relative who works for the parent company of Brooks Brothers and have been able to buy a suit there with an enormous discount. Brooks Brothers has been one of the quintessential men’s clothiers since before the time of Teddy Roosevelt. They have provided a classic American look to generations. That being said, that’s only one suit. The bottom line is that it is far easier to find decent mens clothing than it is for women. Most major department stores have suits, suit separates, jackets, ties, etc. Heck, I even found a beautiful sport coat in a thrift shop in my area. $10. I’ve worn it for years now and get compliments every time I do. Today I wore the jacket from a suit I bought in 1996. The pants long ago frayed but the navy shadow-striped jacket is still in top shape. Recycle what you can. I also inherited my dad’s tuxedo and a few of his ties and jackets. Although I think it’s necessary to spend a little bit of money on a good look, most of the time it is completely unnecessary. I think the key with men’s attire is in taking care of what you have – polishing one’s shoes, wearing a tie properly knotted and not hanging loose like a slob, etc. In other words, how you dress is a direct extension of how you live. Are you a man? Are you vain? Are you humble? If you are vain, you’ll want to draw attention to yourself and “how nice you look”. If you’re humble, you’ll want your look to be neat and clean, unobtrusive, and not to distract from you, the man. Now hats are a different story. I travel a fair bit and try to pick up a hat when I see one. I grew up outside of Manhattan (NYC) and was always able to find men’s haberdashers in the city. Again, I often fail at this but I’ve been trying hard simply to think of how men used to dress and then following that lead as best I can. The 1940’s and ’50’s were a golden age of style but even there, there’s nothing to say that men and women can’t dress modestly and attractively by carefully stepping outside those decades. But again, I will look up some resources and post something later this evening. Well here we are, aren’t we? I hesitate to post names of specific companies because I need to research every place I shop. There are places I will not shop because of their corporate policies in support of sodomy. Thank you again for writing and please offer a prayer for me.
Harvey

Now Let’s Talk About Grooming

Hair: It should be short. Sorry, gents, but we’ve advanced as a society far enough now that scissors are a widely available thing as are electric clippers. In fact, there was really only one man in history Who had long hair that worked for Him. And you’re not Him. I see my barber every 3-4 weeks and get a high and tight. Again, your hair should not be a distraction nor should it be the focal point of your existence and stature.

Facial Hair: This one’s not as tricky as it sounds. I tend to say either clean shaven (all the time) or, better yet, grow it out but keep it trimmed. I remember feeling so cool when I was 13 and shaved for the first time. It was manly and I was now a man (or so I thought). Years later I was teaching CS Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters and read (and re-read many times) the following passage. It’s advice from one demon to another.

“We have now for many centuries triumphed over nature to the extent of making certain secondary characteristics of the male (such as the beard) disagreeable to nearly all the females – and there is more in that than you might suppose.”


Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, Letter XX

I’ve given this one some thought and I’ve worn a beard for the past five years. I recognize not all men can grow a beard. I believe that has to do with the overall feminization of the West – soy products and overall lower levels of testosterone. OK 1) Eat meat. That being said, I say, if you can do it, do it.

Lots of white dress shirts and demure but fashionable ties.

Posture: Stand up straight. Shoulders back. Suck in your gut. Chest out. Make yourself big.

Chivalry: Learn it. Live it. Grab that door for every lady (and really for any person). Give of yourself. Another thing I learned from Dad was in watching how until the last time he drove a car, he always held the car door for my mom. I try to do that for my wife. She agreed to take on your life, your name, and your children. Treat her like it.

Accessories: First, don’t ever use that word. I’m just using it here for reference. Shoes should be polished. They should match your belt which should match your eyes which should be hazel. I’m only kidding about that last part but you get it.

Other than that, there’s not much to it. Ann Barnhardt mentioned a preference for not going wild with colors and not giving into the trend of “skinny” tailoring. First that brings up an important point. If you are able to and need to, get your more important clothing tailored. Many dry cleaners have a tailor on site. It’s a one-time thing (unless your weight fluctuates wildly) and worth the relatively minor cost. WEAR YOUR PANTS AT YOUR WAIST – Not below, Not above. And yes, I agree. I wouldn’t go the skinny route. I know some will push back and say “but I look good in that!” If you do, that probably means you are skinny. Don’t be afraid to put some meat on your bones. Remember we men are distinguished by greater muscle mass. Ask any swimmer who’s competed against Will Thomas. And as far as bright colors, the word I would use is gauche or flamboyant. I own exactly one pink tie. I bought it for my daughter’s baptism which occurred on Gaudete Sunday. Other than that, a tiny splash of color is OK, as Ann says, in ties, pocket squares, etc. Don’t make a habit of it.

And for heaven’s sake, don’t wear jewelry. It should go without saying that earrings are for pirates and queers. Tough love moment? Sorry. Your wedding ring, gentlemen, is a sacramental, not jewelry. Treat it accordingly. Your scapular (and you should be wearing one) stays beneath your shirt. It is for your benefit. Trust me, everyone else in that Trad parish has one on and they assume you do as well.

Wow, that was longer than I was expecting. Perhaps this becomes a regular feature? Likely not.

Our Lady of Fair Love, pray for us!

St. Paul, pray for us!