Confessions of a Narcissist

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I suppose there comes a time in every man’s life where he’s simply got to lay it all out on the line and come clean, for as my father is so frequently fond of telling me, the “truth always comes out in the end.” As a child, this adage was usually followed by a stern stare meant to draw out any number of confessions of misdeeds from a prepubescent Reverend; in his defense, on any given day, there were several unvoiced iniquities on my conscience – he was not being entirely unjust.

Regardless, it appears that that time has arrived for this often not-so-humble Reverend, as the inquiries regarding my position in this world have begun to grow exponentially in the past week or so. Particularly puzzled must be those who simply stumble across one of the literally hundreds of YNR business cards I scatter across the greater Memphis area on a daily basis; whether browsing the aisles at the grocery store, pumping gas, killing time sipping coffee and reading at a local bookstore, or watching the weirdos come out of the woodwork at three in the morning at Wal Mart, I absolutely cannot resist the urge to leave my calling card. In my head, of course, I always imagine that people burst into frenzied excitement upon finding such a treasure, dashing up and down the aisles, hands held high as if the last Wonka golden ticket had found its way into their paws (and erupting into that same song of triumph). Hell, for all you and I know, that may actually be the case, but I digress…

So, the question of the day: Who am I? Am I really a Reverend? Why don’t I preach like a Reverend? Why do I sometimes write dirty words?  Well, first of all, who in the bloody damn hell are you to be questioning me?? Wait, no, that’s not what I meant to write – forgive me, I beg.

Now, the real answer to your question: Yes, of course I am a Reverend!

Several years ago, when I was finishing school in Florida, I had fairly large amounts of free time on my hands, and, as I had not yet discovered the wonders of the blogging world at that time, I sometimes kept myself entertained in somewhat offbeat ways, which is where the Universal Church of Life (UCL) comes into play. I cannot entirely recall how I find the church nor why I really pursued the initial idea of getting ordained through it, but somehow I did both and overnight became an ordained Reverend. The saga, however, does not end there.

Two years after my initial ordination, I found myself in New Orleans as part of a massive family gathering; when I say massive, I truly mean it, as three of my mother’s four sisters have at least four children, the fourth having (only) three. With such a large group, going out to eat is always a bit of a challenge, and on this particular day, we filled four large tables in the banquet room of a local seafood restaurant, my brothers and I unfortunately seated at one of the “kids” tables due simply to logistical trouble.

Halfway through lunch, I hear my father, seated two tables behind me, regaling all the aunts and uncles with a tale from his college days. Over the laughter, I manage to catch a few words here and there, most notably “ordained,” “reverend,” and “church of life.” Intrigued, I made my way to his table and begged a reprise of the story from my pops. The following ensued:

Rev. Sr.: “Oh, I was just telling everyone about a prank back in college…”
YNR: “Wait, you pulled a prank? You’ve got to be joking…. So, what was this prank?”
Rev. Sr: “Well…I found this ad in the back of a magazine claiming you could get ordained through the mail-”
YNR: [interrupting] “Universal Church of Life??”
Rev. Sr: “Yea – how’d you know?”

So, over three decades ago, my father had somehow stumbled onto the UCL, deemed a mail-order ordination crucial to life, and had gone through the necessary steps to be so ordained; completely unaware of my father’s collegiate shenanigans, I somehow came across precisely the same church at precisely the same age and joined the old man in Reverendhood (if I may use such a word).  And so, while I may not have undergone…well, really any training whatsoever, I’m sure there was something drawing me to the UCL, but if not, so what? I’ve caused no harm, and it’s definitely given me and the old man something to joke about.

If, however, you feel I’ve strung you along under false pretenses, I meant no harm and beg your forgiveness (insert humble bow here) but understand if this is your last visit. For the rest of you, however, I hope you don’t  feel too cheated, and if you can find it in your heart to stick around (and I certainly hope you do), I think we can continue to have a bit of fun.

After all, there is an Avocado Watch ‘08 update tonight!

Humbly yours,
The Rev.

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