by Fr. Gordon J. MacRae on December 15, 2010 · 8 comments
. . . Back in 1966, to make matters worse (for Debbie, at least) our family had the only color television on our block. We were by no means privileged. Our father brought it home that year as a Christmas bonus from his boss. I remember the day we first plugged it in. We quickly became the popular kids in the neighborhood! “This means,” my 12-year-old sister tactlessly proclaimed, “that every nerd in the neighborhood will be in our living room for Star Trek.” Debbie had to admit, at least, that Star Trek was far better in color. We discovered, for example, that only the crew members wearing red shirts were done in by aliens each week, and the slightly green tinge of Mr. Spock’s skin made us wonder if perhaps Leonard Nimoy might really be Vulcan. . . .
by Fr. Gordon J. MacRae on February 3, 2010 · 11 comments
. . . When I was growing up North of Boston, I spent as little time as possible indoors. I climbed every tree I could find. My friends and I spent a lot of time in trees – something Freud, or maybe Darwin, might read into. There was a huge elm on our block. When I was ten, I loved to climb high into it above the traffic of the street, find my favorite perch, and read for hours. Every now and then my mother would wail out a window, “IF YOU FALL OUT OF THAT TREE AND BREAK YOUR LEG, DON’T COME RUNNING TO ME!!” As a ten-year-old, I envisioned myself a consumer of only the finest literature, much of which I read in trees. My favorite was a series of paperbacks about a quasi-superhero, “Doc Savage, the Man of Bronze,” and his team of dedicated crime fighters. I traveled all over the world with Doc and his crew. I was part of the team, and could always foresee the danger lurking ahead. . . .
