Giv­ing up Won­der Woman for Lent

The Compass - - Editorial - David But­ler, for­merly of Har­bour Grace, writes from Van­cou­ver, BC

Grow­ing up in out­port New­found­land we ba­si­cally had one chan­nel, CTV. Well we had CBC, but our TV set was so bad I couldn’t stand to try to make out the im­age for all the snow. Save Dis­ney, all the good shows came on CTV, so it didn’t much mat­ter.

Be­ing a sleeper lit­tle gay boy, I did have some tell tale signs of my fu­ture path. One was my love for the show “Won­der Woman”, luck­ily com­ing on the non-snowy sta­tion on Sun­day nights.

Life for me dur­ing those years was what hap­pened when you were just wait­ing for the next episode of “Won­der Woman”. Oh the thrill of it. She’d spin around, di­vert bul­lets with her bracelets, break out her golden lasso and round up all the bad boys by the end. She was like a pre Katy Perry/Madonna/Brit­tany all wrapped up in one.

Be­ing very Catholic, we were taught that you should give up some­thing you truly loved for Lent. The nuns, who were also some­times our class­room teach­ers, were very clear about this. They even gave us class time to pon­der this, mak­ing sure you ze­roed in on that thing you loved the most.

It might even have been a writ­ing as­sign­ment where you had to write neatly, cap­i­tal­ize and use a pe­riod. For the nuns, the road to heaven was paved not only with sac­ri­fice, but good gram­mar. I could give up candy.

I could give up play­ing hide-and-go-seek.

I could give up lis­ten­ing to “ABBA”.

I could give up “Won­der Woman”.

It made me shud­der, just the thought of it. But I knew be­fore the ink had dried that there was no room dur­ing Lent for two loves in my life — it was either God or “Won­der Woman”.

What’s more, to show your real good­ness and your will­ing­ness to sac­ri­fice for our Lord, the pow­ers that be men­tioned that if you prayed while you had for­gone what­ever it was that you loved, well, all the bet­ter.

That dreaded first Sun­day ring­ing in Lent crept up on me, like the grim reaper com­ing for what’s his. The rest of my mot­ley crew that was my fam­ily, how­ever, didn’t give it up.

They all gath­ered in the liv­ing room around our tiny set, and as the mu­sic of the show started its most wel­come melody, I, with the heav­i­est of hearts, as­cended the stairs to my shared room, and slowly knelt to speak to God. I wasn’t even past “who art in heaven,” when the tears started to trickle down my face. Very soon they turned into a steady stream of pain drops, and by my first Hail Mary, I was bawl­ing.

The only bath­room in the house was up­stairs, right next to my room. One of my dear sis­ters took an op­por­tu­nity dur­ing a com­mer­cial break to dart up­stairs. She paused when she heard the hys­ter­ics.

Open­ing my door she found me on my knees and prac­ti­cally dis­traught. “What’s wrong with you,” she asks. “I gave up “Won­der Woman” for Lent,” I bawled back.

She looks at me for a sec­ond and says, “Sure Lent don’t start till next week!”

But I knew be­fore the ink had dried that there was no room dur­ing Lent for two loves in my life — it was either God or Won­der Woman.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada

© PressReader. All rights reserved.