Ash Wednesday has always been my least favorite holy day. I’ve disliked it from the time I was a kid, growing up in the 1950s in a Polish-Italian-Irish parish on Chicago’s far northwest side.
Each year around this time, during the run-up to Ash Wednesday, I go to Mass with Binx Bolling, the philosopher-rake who narrates Walker Percy’s 1961 novel, The Moviegoer.
My wife, Maria, and I were on a mission. We had been assigned by the Notre Dame Alumni Club of Eastern North Carolina to get autographs from members of the 2008 Irish Football team on an ND football.
OK, here’s the deal. Some months ago, mapping our plans for the magazine’s revamped website, we thought it’d be good to do blogs, write blogs, find other folks to write blogs for us.
At a presentation I gave to a Notre Dame journalism class, a student once asked me what the hardest part of my job is. “Sending rejection notices,” I replied.
After a month of lake-effect snow and single-digit temperatures, the weather abruptly changed gears, and Notre Dame enjoyed temperatures well into the 50s. The campus virtually exploded in a frenzy of spring fever. Even with melting snow piles still lining the sidewalks, the air above South Quad was filled with Frisbees, footballs and baseballs as the muddy but happy students enjoyed a brief break from the Northern Indiana winter.…