Special guest blogger, Mantilla Amontillado, writes on matters of ecclesiastical etiquette and haberdashery. 

 
OK hon, I know you think maybe I’m a little bit of a nag sometimes, but this is what I’m thinking: if I don’t speak up who is going to? I didn’t do my degree in Ecclesiastical Haberdashery at Salamanca University for nothing you know?
Now I’m feeling pretty hot you know? And this is what is bothering me. I go to this mass not long ago at another parish, and no, I’m not going to tell you which one, but Fr. Elvis comes in and he’s got this kind of a game show approach to the liturgy. You know? I thought he was going to say, “Mantilla, today is your lucky day! Come on down and let’s make a deal!” But he didn’t he sort of saunters in and says, “Howya all doin’ today? Anybody from Cincinnati? How are the Red Sox doin’? I heard this story once about this girl who wore red socks…The Lord be with you.”
You know what I mean? Well, I’m sitting there and my fan is going faster and faster, and it’s not because of the flies I can tell you. I’m starting to feel all hot under my mantilla because this priest is not reverent at all, and is behaving like he’s some kind of stand up comic. But I am keeping my mouth shut because it is the holy mass and all, but then this woman comes out dressed in one of those cassock albs and it looks like she’s dressed in a duvet cover and she has this red rope around her middle and she looks all trussed up like she got tangled up in the window dressings.
Anyway, she comes forward at the offertory and starts to prepare the altar and she puts this pottery chalice on the altar and a pottery plate like it’s some kind of big deal. Then the priest steps up, and this woman stands at his side like she’s a deacon and she looks real happy like maybe she’s just eaten a cream puff. Then the priest says, “Blessed are you lord God of all creation through you goodness we have this bread to offer and this plate which was made by Daphne with her own hands.” I’m thinking to myself that maybe the woman is called Daphne, and she’s a religious sister or something. Turns out I’m right.
What am I going to do? I ask you hon, what would you do? So after Mass I say to the priest, “Look Father, this pottery chalice made by Daphne…this is against the rules. You know it has got to stop. You should use precious metals for the precious blood.” He smiles at me like I’m some kind of retarded child and says, “The Mass is for the people of God and Daphne made the chalice and paten with her own hands. Isn’t that beautiful?”
Honest, I was ready to smack him over the head with my fan, but Daphne was standing there too with one of those ‘I dare you to be a traditional Catholic’ smiles on her face so I smiled, folded up my fan and put it in my handbag and marched off.
Besides, Daphne was bigger than me…Much bigger.