A site of satirical musings, commentary and/or rhetorical criticism of the world at large.

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Friday, May 09, 2008

Sainthood for Mrs. Gunther – All of Them

As Mothers Day approaches, we’re all thinking about the best gift for our respective mothers. Over the years, we reward them not only with this special day, but also with some small token of our deep appreciation. I have done my part over the years with flowers, candy, and gift cards, to name a few. Still, there are times when I wish I could do more to honor my mother’s efforts.

In recent years, one company offered people the chance to name a star after their loved ones as a gift. This is a nice sentiment, particularly for a loving woman like all of our mothers, but I’m skeptical. There is too much of a chance to play a trick on dear old mom. I can see thousands of women asking their grown children where their star is, and these children point to a street lamp, and say, “It’s right there, ma!” It all seems so deceptive to me.

I remember promising my mother sainthood if she would do a favor for me. At the time, we both realized that this is one promise I couldn’t readily deliver, but at least we did share a good laugh about it. However, as the years go on, I think I would like to give my mother this truly unique spiritual gift. In fact, I have submitted applications for sainthood for my wife and my brother’s wife, both of whom are – coincidentally – named Mrs. Gunther.

So what have these three Mrs. Gunthers done to deserve sainthood? Simply, they have devoted major portions of their lives to making men named Gunther happy. This is not an altogether horrible experience, but there are times when it is not always such a simple task. Please don’t get me wrong, we Gunther men aren’t 100% bad. We are very giving individuals who like to laugh and enjoy life. However, and I must be honest here, there is something in our DNA that can make us moody, impatient, and irritable at times. This fact can make us appear less than lovable.

Therefore, I took it upon myself some months ago to fill out separate applications for sainthood for all of the Gunther women in my extended family. The forms were fairly straightforward and I completed them as honestly as I could. Okay, I had to lie a little a bit about their being practicing Roman Catholics, and I had to exaggerate a bit on the two miracles essay portion, but otherwise I really don’t see why I haven’t gotten a response yet.

I have called several times for the status of my applications, but I seem to be getting a runaround. I hear, “Oh sorry, Mr. Gunther, we must’ve misplaced them,” or “The check still didn’t clear, Mr. Gunther.” Did I mention the application fee? Well, it seems that there is a $300 fee per application, but they talked me into the “three for $1000 special” they were running at the time. Now, I’m not a wizard at math, but they insisted that this was a bargain. After all who am I to question the Church?

I’m also having misgivings about the whole operation. For example, would the Vatican really name their sainthood investigation office “Saints ‘R’ Us”? Then there’s the fellow I’ve spoken to each time I’ve called, Bishop B. Dickes. I presume the initial “B” stands for Benjamin, Bernard, Bruce, or Bartholomew, but I have to wonder if he’s really a bishop.

Judge for yourself. Here is a transcript of one of my phone calls to them.

Bishop: “Saints ‘R’ Us, Bishop B. Dickes speaking. How my I help you on this blessed day?”

Me: “Oh, uh, I’m calling about the sainthood application I sent in for my mother. The name is Gunther.”

Bishop: “Yes, Mr. Gunther. Hold on please.”

(At this point I’m put on hold where they usually play selections from famous Italian operas. However, on this particular day they are playing Pope John Paul II's Greatest Hits. After a moment there is a click and I hear this.)

Man’s Voice in Background: “...think we are? Miracle men?”

Bishop: “Quiet, I have him on hold.”

Second Man’s Voice in Background: “How old is he? Ask him what he’s wearing.”

Bishop: “Hush, he’ll hear you. (Then directly to me) I’m sorry, sir, that application is still being processed. Call back in ten business days if you don’t hear anything before then. Good-bye, and oh, bless you, my son!"

(Then I hear hysterical laughter in the background before there is a click and the line goes dead.)

Oh well, it appears I’ll have to come up with another gift for my Mom this year. Also, no doubt, I will burn in hell for this blog entry.



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