Night of 1,000 pierogies

Where is the vomitorium? Yesterday at Corpus Christi, I must have eaten a thousand pierogies. That, and I drank a Polish beer and a generous pour of this sweet-ish red wine from the Winery at Marjim Manor, which they were serving at the bar. I know, I am no stranger to red wine. But this time I wound up kissing Mike Igoe from Channel 2. Just on the cheek, but still.

Wasn't it just a couple of weeks ago that I found myself hugging Dr. James Williams, our superintendent of schools, and telling him I will write his biography when I am through with the one I am writing on Leonard Pennario? And now I am running around kissing people I have seen on TV. I'm telling you, I should just stay away from that wine!

Mike Igoe and I were judging pierogies next to each other and it was a bonding experience because comedian "Airborne" Eddy, the emcee, kept barking into the microphone inches from our ears and someone else was shoving a camera in our faces for public access TV and a new pierogi arrived roughly ever 10 seconds. I kept trying to dodge the cameras because of my braces. It is not pretty to watch me eat!

Then an old schoolmate of my friend Jane, who was judging pierogies across from me, showed up, sat down next to me on the other side from Mike Igoe and began bugging me to death.

"How come you're not at the Toby Keith concert tonight?" he asked.

"I'd rather be here, eating pierogies," I said, smiling politely.

"But you said you're the music critic."

"I do classical music," I said.

"Oh, like Beethoven?" he said.

I hate conversations like this, where I can tell from the beginning that my chances of getting the topic around to Leonard Pennario are totally zilch.

The funniest thing about the Dozynki Polish Harvest festival, where all this excitement unfolded, was all the boozy talk you overheard about joining the church. "I'm going to join Corpus Christi," everyone was saying.

Ha, ha! See you at Mass, everyone! Something tells me when these people woke up this morning the thought of joining Corpus Christi didn't seem quite so compelling.

Because no matter what song and dance people feed you about why they are lapsed Catholics, it invariably boils down to: It can be so darn tough to get yourself to Mass. Well, it's not tough for me now, because I love the Mass I go to. But it sure used to be, and I fell off the wagon myself for a few years. So now there is no bull #$*&#-ing me.

Speaking of which, classic phrase from Mass today: "Ipse se seducit."

It means: "He deceives himself."

I told you Latin was sexier than English.