Patum Peperium

The Flying Weekend: Countdown

Man About Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

Previously...I & II

The Flying Weekend: Countdown

As you all know, when we last spoke I told you how I had left the preparation and organization of my flying weekend in the capable hands of the Countess...I had planned for a few friends to stay for the weekend and generally do as little as possible. As usual, my ingenious handling of the Countess came back to haunt me with a vengeance.

"Basil, Basil wo bist du?"

"Here I am my dear Countess, how may I be of service"?

"You can start by coming out of there and stop hiding behind your dirty books..."

"My dear, they are not "dirty books" they are antiques and I wish you would refrain from using that particular term...It has a somewhat different meaning here in the heartland..."

"I have no idea what you mean, they are old, dirty and smelly...How you can stand it I have no idea. Anyway, I have here the itinerary and schedule of events for the weekend festivities..."

"A what of the who"? What do you mean by festivities"?

"Stop asking silly questions, I have put together the schedule for the motorcade to retrieve Father EEM from the airport and the schedule, seating plan and menu for the banquet in his honor. We then have the school tour and festivities, the Bishop's reception and cocktail party, the field day and the formal dinner. It is all meticulously planned, and I must ask that you and St. John please try to stay out of the way and not embarrass anyone. You two will be responsible for collecting Mr. and Mrs. P and family and her friends from the airport. I have been in contact with Mr. Lout's office and he will arrive on his own on Thursday, he is renting an automobile. Make sure you are here to welcome him and show him to his room."

"Motorcade? Banquet? I believe, my dear that this was to be an informal gathering..."

"Obviously you were incorrect. Everything is set and I have already called Mrs. P and given her the details. Now, do you think you and St. John can handle your assignment without too much trouble"?

"Well, I suppose..."

"Gut, then that is settled. Father EEM will take your room and I have already had the Flash books removed from the shelves and more appropriate titles placed for Father EEM's reading pleasure..."

"Hey, wait a minute, I don't like it when anyone touches my books, and how do know that Father M is not a big Flashman fan"?

"Don't be silly, I am sure that you and St. John are the only two who read those silly things, and Father EEM is a highly educated man and a paragon of the Church. He has more important things to do than read the Flash books. And I hope you will not go into your lawn tennis Fred Perry act if someone wants to play. Not everyone wants to play 1930s tennis, so please do not annoy the guests with your whites, wood and Jack Purcell's rules."

"And very good rules they are...Let me tell you..."

"What"?

"Nothing, nothing my dear Countess, I was just perusing this schedule and thinking of my wardrobe...Must do a little brushing and polishing before everyone arrives...Yes, it looks as if you have it all covered..."

"Gut, then memorize all of this and keep St. John away from the liquor cabinet please."

Humm...I wonder if anyone would think me rude if I were to be out of town on the weekend of my own party?

In The Begining

Relish the Gentlemen : Our Man about Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

Previously...

One day...

One day I hung up the telephone after some telephonic communication with Mrs. P. I had come up with, if I do say so myself, a brilliant idea for wasting time and resources. I might add that I happen to be quite good at wasting t and r but anyway...My idea was to host what I liked to call a "flying weekend", where I would invite the various and sundry folks involved with PP to my house, well to the house I live in since it actually belongs to the Countess, and we would spend a weekend drinking, playing, tripping the light fantastic, and did I mention drinking? And it would be a "flying weekend" because I would take those who were brave enough or drunk enough if bravery is not their thing, up in my little Tiger Moth, which is a bi-plane, don't you know. Let's see, we would have the Ps, and small p's of course and The Fiendish Lout had expressed willingness and Father M., who unknown to him was my "ace in the hole" was an enthusiastic supporter. Mrs. P was planning on bringing her friend Charlotte and h. and as always Lord St. John would be lurking about the place as well. Well, yes I knew you would all agree to the brilliance of my plan and now the only thing left was for me to get permission for said plan from the Countess. She, of course has always been the proverbial putty in my hands, so I made an appointment to see her and when I was admitted to her study the next week I began to outline my plan:

"My dear Countess" I said...

"Nein, no, you vill forget about it"

"But my dear Countess, I wanted to tell you about a little thing I was planning..."

"Nein und abermals nein...That would mean no..."

"Well, my Dear, it is just a few friends for a weekend..."

"Which will mean you and silly St. John running about playing with the Tiger Lily and with myself looking after your guests, who will be camped in front of the liquor cabinet no doubt...And I am sure St. John will insist on bringing one of those horrid women of his, I have no idea which trailer park he is getting them out of...Maybe if he would opt for more teeth along with more clothing it would not be so bad...I can't imagine that sweet Mrs. P would want to spend the weekend with all of you silly people....The answer is No"

"My Dear it is a Tiger Moth, and that will not be the case I assure you, and..."

"NO"

(At this point dear reader I am sure you are shouting that my flanks are in the air and I must fall back immediately while I can still save the guns. I know you are, but wait a bit, old Basil is an old campaigner and knows what he's doing...Told you I had an ace in the hole...Whites of their eyes and all that, what?)

"Well my darling Countess, as you say, I will give Father M. a call and rescind the invitation...I better get cracking..." Turning to go of course.

"Wait, do you mean that The Father EEM has agreed to come for this flying thing"?

"Why, yes, he was very keen on coming, he wanted to see the school and..." (She is the Governor of The Academy of the Sacred Heart, a local Catholic Prep school for young ladies. Actually she owns it, which is why she's the Governor.)

"Well, why did you not say so? Now, go away I will be busy planning this all out. It must be extra special for Dear Father EEM...I will call Mrs. P immediately and begin preparations. Let's see...There will be the motorcade from the airport and bishop's dinner, must call the bishop immediately, select an entourage from the school, schedule tour and welcome festivities...Oh it will be splendid...Father EEM here...Who would believe it...Go away, I will have it all worked out very soon...Let's see now, the menus will have to be done and the guest rooms prepared...

I had already sauntered down the hall..."Hey St. John, old chap, we're on!"

...One Recent Afternoon...

Relish the Gentleman: Our Man about Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

...One recent afternoon...

"Basil? Basil! I know you're listening to me because your knuckles are turning white. So put down the Ambler like a good boy and have your tea."

"Prefer coffee."

"Well, you're having tea today."

"Coffee."

"My dear Sir Basil, drink it or wear it..."

"Prefer coffee."

"I will tell the Countess."

"Alright, I would love some tea."

"Ah, that's what I thought." said Mrs. P as she pours.

"I noticed that the Lord Justice has cleared the Duke of Edinburgh in the death of "she who will not be mentioned in front of Sir Basil" said Mrs. P as she passes him the Minton.

"Damn shame, that."

"What do you mean "shame"? I thought you would be pleased."

"Far from it, I would have much greater respect for His RH if he had detailed Bond to do her in. It's not like the chap has much to do these days."

"Basil!"

"Yes, it would have been so much sweeter, although quite a bit late, if you ask me...He could then be known as "The Duke of Death" and endorse a new line of designer hand guns or something. The possibilities were just endless."

"My Dear Sir Basil, you are quite evil you know."

"Yes, thank you, but keep in mind that I'm not an unfeeling man, just an uncaring one". "Speaking of evil, did you know that I have written the story of our Flying Weekend..."

"That's wonderful!"

"The unedited and uncensored version of the story of our Flying Weekend."

"That's terrible, not to mention probably unwise and immoral in some way."

"Not to worry, I have it all under control...I remember it vividly...Let's see, there was you and me, Mr. P and The Countess, the Baron was corrupting your children, Father M. was busy being feted all over town by the students at the Sacred Heart, for all I know they may have him locked up in a room over there still, I do know they have a shrine to him in their chapel...The Fiendish One was there, I know because I couldn't keep him and Mr. P away from my Cockburn, your friend Charlotte came and I think she had a husband with her but I'm not sure if he was the one that was locked in the garage all night or not, and Lord St. John was there that weekend too, because he kept swearing that the Countess' German relatives were all ex-Nazis and kept mentioning that her Great Aunt had slept with Hitler. How the Countess has put up with old Sin Jen all these years I'll never know...There was the dinner and reception in honor of Father M., you know that guy gets a lot of attention...The white tie midnight festivities and that one lady who had, I must say, immaculate decotellage, Mr. P and I asked her..."

"I believe you better let me have a look first."

"Well, we didn't ask her right off, because the Countess was near, but we were getting ready to..."

"I better look at it first."

"Well, ask Mr. P, she had this strapless thing in black I think, and we were all on the veranda when her...

"Send it to me first."

"Nonsense, we have a broad minded readership, do we not? Besides Irish Elk would be interested in how she...."

"Let's see, where did I put the Countess' phone number?"

"I'll send it to you this afternoon"...

Our Men Of Fatima

Telling It Like It Is. Or Was. Or Something Like That.

Madame's Nighshirt
Mrs. Peperium

Mr. P says, when it comes to writing, I'm at my best when I don't try too hard. After giving the matter some thought, I realise the best way to tell you about our trip to see Pope Benedict in D.C. is not to try too hard.

Let's see, two days before we departed for D.C., a road crew during routine maintenance on our sewers broke the water main on our street and we were without water for the better part of the day. That meant no laundry. Then, after the water main was broken, a note from our fair city was pushed through the mail slot saying due to the routine sewer maintenance, the following day from 6am until midnight, we would only be allowed to use water for the sake of emergencies. Since I am the type that likes to have all my ducks in a row before we leave on vacations or pilgrimages, that meant two nights before leaving I stayed up until midnight doing all the laundry in the house.

Intermission

Madame's Nightshirt
Mrs. Peperium

....Last Wednesday evening at Clyde's in D.C.'s Chinatown (which by the way has wonderful local oysters)...only God knows what time....

Misspent (Remember him?): "So, how are you going to write about all of this?"

Me: "I don't know. It just keeps getting harder and harder to describe as the months go on. The thing has taken on a life of its own."

Misspent, of course, was speaking of how I would write of the meeting of him and many others, who've I've come to know, but, of course, do not really know, in the course of running Patum Peperium for the past 3+ years. Since the meeting of these folks happened during our pilgrimage to lay our eyes on and hear Mass said from the Successor of St. Peter, Pope Benedict XVI, it makes describing the event all that much more difficult. Then, there's the plain cold hard fact that going on pilgrimage in a post 9/11 America is pure Hell.

The Return Of The Fish Eagle

 Madame's Nightshirt
 Mrs. Peperium

"In the exercise of my ministry as the Successor of Peter, I have come to America to confirm you, my brothers and sisters, in the faith of the Apostles (cf. Lk 22:32). I have come to proclaim anew, as Peter proclaimed on the day of Pentecost, that Jesus Christ is Lord and Messiah, risen from the dead, seated in glory at the right hand of the Father, and established as judge of the living and the dead (cf. Acts 2:14ff.). I have come to repeat the Apostle's urgent call to conversion and the forgiveness of sins, and to implore from the Lord a new outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon the Church in this country. As we have heard throughout this Easter season, the Church was born of the Spirit's gift of repentance and faith in the risen Lord. In every age she is impelled by the same Spirit to bring to men and women of every race, language and people (cf. Rev 5:9) the good news of our reconciliation with God in Christ..." -Pope Benedict XVI at Nationals Stadium, Washington D.C. April 17, 2008

In heraldry, the eagle symbolizes "a man of action, occupied with high and weighty affairs. It was given to personify those of "lofty spirit, ingenuity, quick wit, speedy in apprehension and judicious in matters of ambiguity". Its wings signify "protection, and its gripping talons represent ruin to evildoers." In Christian symbolism, the eagle represents "salvation, redemption, and resurrection."

"Nice Tie, Mr. P."

Poet's Coroner
Mr. Peperium

"Nice tie, Mr. P."

It all began in our room at the Arlington Hyatt, when we were getting ready to meet Father M, Lorraine, Misspent, Father M's friend Father Hayden, James Poulos and his charming bride Courtney, Maximum Leader, Robbo the Llama Butcher...you know, everyone.

"Where are my ties, oh fruit that dangles from the topmost bough of the tree of my life?" I asked, rummaging frantically through a suitcase or two.

Roman Holiday

Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open eye-
(So priketh hem Nature in hir corages);
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
-Canterbury Tales

We, and 44,996 other pilgrims, are off to have Mass with the No. 1 terrorist target in the world in the capitol of the Great Satan. While in the capitol of the Great Satan we're going to meet up with several of our blogging friends (keep eyes trained on Llama Butchers). If we live to tell about it, we'll tell you all about it. So, until next week -Patum Peperium

Doo-ghee

Madame's Nightshirt
Mrs. Peperium

Doo-ghee

"You know," said Mrs. P, "one of America's greatest downfalls has to be that Americans have been far too concerned about what their neigbors will say."

"Humpf. America was started by the prudish class."

"Basil! Those prudes are my class."

"Still shows. Care for a fresh one?"

"That would only be my third, wouldn't it? Why not? You know, it probably was those prudish origins that got our knickers in a twist about our neighbors. They really ought to have been in a twist about our knickers."

"Huh?"

"What?"

"What was that about your knickers?"

"If my knickers could talk, imagine what they would say?

"Do you really want me to answer that?"