Soulful

I was standing next to an old man in New York last week and took a photo of his shoes. Worn in but not worn out, they reminded me of the shoes my old man wore. Legend has surpassed reality on how long my pops kept a pair of shoes, but he did know the cobbler by name.

Nice to see you again, Papa!

Papa, It Stinks Like Spring

Great Spring day today.

I took the extended family and dog for a walk along the Beldon Stream in Vernon. Truffle tirelessly swam after sticks Nathaniel threw in the water. The rest of us breathed in the elements of new life.

Photo by Julie

Hide 'n Seek

Dora shows Nathaniel a good hiding place on the back deck.

"C'mon in. There's room for two. Papa will never find us!"

Tailgating

I read a great booklet titled, The Catholic Mass Revealed. In the 1st chapter (2 pages), the author talks about preparing for the Mass. He draws a parallel to the rituals we go through before going to the big game, and rightly points out that we should equally prepare before entering the house of the Big Kahuna. He doesn't actually use the words "Big Kahuna", but if I published what he wrote, you wouldn't have to read the booklet.

Last Saturday I took a photo of a guy who prepared for the Mass with Pope Benedict XVI. I didn't think to ask him, but I bet he read the same booklet. I'm going to order similar jerseys for the family and put the names of our patron saints on the back!

Here we go, Jesus, here we go!

Gift Wrapped

Today was my 51st birthday. My cardiologist had a surprise present for me - a rectal exam. None of this was scheduled, but coming off 3 days of exhaustion and a higher than normal blood pressure reading, I made an office visit.

You might think it odd a cardiologist would do much more than listen through a stethoscope, but my guy is an old-timer. I got a blood pressure reading, EKG, prostrate check up, eye ears and throat inspection, major organ check over and a series of blood test.

Happy to report that all systems are a go! Thanks for the birthday gift, Doc!

Old Fashion, Please

Warning to all friends and family, don't let Dunkin Donuts pick out the donuts for you. It's a sure way to get the oddest dozen donuts you'll ever see. Particularly if the employee is loyal to the franchise, you are guaranteed to get all the donuts clogging up the inventory.

If you don't believe me, take a closer look at the box above. When is the last time you ordered a pink frosted donut on your way to the job site?

Guarding the Crown Jewels

Nowadays the Catholic Church is doing anything it can to increase attendance at Mass. If you are one of the fallen faithful, you gotta check out the message from Catholics Come Home.org. Awesome ad that'll have you digging out your scapular.

But at least for this past Saturday, The Holy See was taking names and checking numbers before letting anyone into St Patrick's Cathedral for Mass with the Pope. Unless you had a ticket, meaning you already were the subject of a background check, you weren't crossing the threshold of hope between 5th and 6th Avenues. A police barricade, NYPD helicopters flying overhead, federal agents, Swiss Guard, rooftop snipers on every adjacent building, and a few Jesuits for safe keeping. The holy lock down was on.

Being part of the media for the day, I had to go to a sweep area 4 hours before the Mass began where dogs sniffed for bombs, Secret Service agents picked through camera equipment, and every individual was subject to an airport style screening. Once scrubbed and cleaned, a designated agent escorted us from the Media Center directly to St Patrick's Cathedral - do not pass Go!

Even inside the Church we were roped into an assigned platform. Agents and media relations personnel were there to monitor our movement. An Austrian photographer next to me stepped down from Section J to gain a different perspective, and was quickly shooed back into position. Needing at least one shot of the Pope reciting his Homily from the Cathedra (altar chair), I recalled how Mohammed Ali took advantage of George Foreman in Zaire by using the ropes. Balancing my feet on the edge of the platform, I did the rope-a-dope to capture the photo. The move caught the eye of one special agent, but technically, I was still in bounds.

Fortunately the security staff did recognize we were at Mass and let us leave the press station to receive Communion. The priest distributing the host seemed authentic enough, but the clergy to his left wore his stole like a scarf. You don't think the Vatican Guard goes incognito, do you? Looking back on the day, there were an awful lot of really fit priest.

On a side note, the photo above was taken of an officer standing guard atop a building directly across from St Patrick's Cathedral. I'm hoping he's Catholic, but if not, Bodhisattva will help him keep Benedict safe on this day!

Everybody loves the Pope.

Visit from the Little Flower

In November, I wrote a piece about a modest saint whose humility and love for the Lord actually made her famous long after her death. St Therese de Lisieux, the Little Flower, reminded us all through her writings that God loves all his people and not just those of high achievement. Not everyone needs to be a rose.

In the world of photography, I am not a rose. I'm not even sure I'm a dandelion. But in my Walter Mitty mind, I dream of clicking with the big boys to capture a momentous event. Saturday, at St Patrick's Cathedral in New York, I got my chance - Mass with Pope Benedict XVI.

Representing a monthly Catholic publication, I was able to finagle my way into the Cathedral with the Vatican press corp. Originally assigned a street post on a corner opposite St Patrick's, a few prayers and a bold last minute move enabled me to walk into church with a who's who of media outlets. A story all its own, I had a new found status with the Secret Service escorts.

I was allotted a spot on a platform with a photo biographer of His Holiness, a news reporter from 1010 WINS, the religious editor of the Chicago Sun-Times, and two videographers from the Vatican. We were about 150 feet from the altar and to the right of the center aisle. Sweet!

No pope has ever said Mass at St Patrick's. Being the seat of the Catholic church in the heart of the All-American city, that little fact didn't escape anyone in attendance. The anticipation of Pope Benedict XVI's entrance to the great Cathedral created an energy the likes of which I have never seen at a sporting event. To lend some perspective, I've been to a World Series game at Fenway Park, and a NFL Championship game at Giant Stadium. It's reassuring to know the hope of Christ still revs the crowds some 2,000 years later. To lend some further perspective, 95% of the attendees were clergy.

As the Mass began, the media around me started clicking away. Giant flash guns, telezooms balanced on a monopod, holsters with a 2nd camera - I was drowning in a press pool of pros. Guys jockeyed for small advantages on the platform looking for clear lanes and the perfect angle. The game was on.

Looking down at my first couple of shots, the digital images looked too dark and fuzzy. I couldn't get my flash to work as expected. Not knowing what to do to correct the problem, I turned the flash off, ratchet up the ISO to 800 and took my chances on natural lighting.

"Hey, I'm at 250/2.8 and 800 ISO. What settings are you using?"

"Turn your ISO down to 400 and dial in a couple of extra stops of exposure."

"Oh yeah...how did I forget that old trick. Stupid me. Thanks for the tip." My next 2 photos came out great.

"Hey, aren't you guys going to shoot the Epiclesis?"

"Epi what?"

"The shot right in front of you, man. Benedict turning the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ. Hurry up and shoot, he's almost done!"

"Wow, thanks for the tip. Who do you shoot for?"

"Catholic Transcript."

"Right."

When I applied for press credentials I had to fill out an application, but it didn't ask for religious affiliation. I can only assume a few of the crew with me where not Catholic. Maybe I had lesser photo skills, but I had the inside track on the program.

Anyhow, when it was time for Communion I asked permission from the Secret Service agent to receive the Eucharist. Agent 99 nodded and pointed to a side altar just behind me and to the left. I got in line and mumbled, "Lord I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I shall be healed."

As I approached the altar I could see it was a sanctuary dedicated to The Little Flower. My heart swelled and my eyes teared up thinking that I needn't be a rose to make my mark on this day. Therese was there to remind me of the same. So much coincidence crossing my path these days. I think God is speaking to me in loud voices.

Gearing Up

Tomorrow I head down to New York City to partake in Pope Benedict XVI's visit to the Big Apple - very exciting. I like Benedict. Some think him too old fashion, but he seems quite gentle to me. I guess his commitment to Church traditions and the teachings of the Gospel scare off some people.


Pope Benedict is not afraid to tell it like it is. During his Mass for Election, he coined the phrase "dictatorship of relativism" to describe modern society's ascent to all things me. Doomed to emptiness if we follow this path, His Holiness explained:


Today, having a clear faith based on the Creed of the Church is often labeled as fundamentalism. Whereas relativism, that is, letting oneself be "tossed here and there, carried about by every wind of doctrine", seems the only attitude that can cope with modern times. We are building a dictatorship of relativism that does not recognize anything as definitive and whose ultimate goal consists solely of one's own ego and desires.


We, however, have a different goal: the Son of God, the true man. He is the measure of true humanism. An "adult" faith is not a faith that follows the trends of fashion and the latest novelty; a mature adult faith is deeply rooted in friendship with Christ. It is this friendship that opens us up to all that is good and gives us a criterion by which to distinguish the true from the false, and deceipt from truth.


Don't look to me to add anything to those words - brilliant. And while I could never pen such eloquent and clear thoughts, the two of us think alike in a small, but important way.


When I go on photo assignments for the Catholic media, I often get a chance to spend some time with the local priests. All of these men are under intense pressure to perform at a miraculous level due to the reduced number of clergy. They are expected to carry out the precepts of The Beatitudes for the flock, and to apply the rigors of Six Sigma to the administration of the parish. Living both in the sacred and the secular worlds makes it difficult for a priest to maintain an aura of holiness in my opinion.


I often ask them when do they have time to pray? Sometimes I don't even ask, but tell them instead to stay on the path of prayer. We need holy priest to tend to our unholy souls. Being in communion with God through prayer provides a solid foundation. You don't get there balancing the parish checkbook, or running the bingo committee.


Last night I heard Benedict sound out similar thoughts. He instructed the U.S. Catholic bishops to turn to prayer and to teach their priest to pray as a means towards living the more perfect life.


Indeed a clearer focus upon the imitation of Christ in holiness of life is exactly what is needed in order for us to move forward. We need to rediscover the joy of living a Christ-centred life, cultivating the virtues, and immersing ourselves in prayer. When the faithful know that their pastor is a man who prays and who dedicates his life to serving them, they respond with warmth and affection which nourishes and sustains the life of the whole community.


Time spent in prayer is never wasted, however urgent the duties that press upon us from every side.


Yeah, that's what I said!

Wrestling with Uncle Sam

I TurboTaxed my way through my federal and state taxes tonight. I owed $467 on one, and got back $206 from the other. Not the jackpot, but no heartburn either.

Despite the step-by-step guidance from Intuit, there were sections of the federal return that required too much ciphering. The whole thing about deducting expenses for a home office is meant to deter you from taking the write down. Everything I read about claiming a home office points to an audit; people just get this section wrong.

And it's no wonder. All I had to do was to get out my closing records from 12 years ago, every home improvement receipt from 1995 to 2007, and my last 12 months of oil, electric and home insurance payments. Once I calculated each of these figures I was able to take the total expenses x (office sq ft/home sq ft) to reduce my taxes by....$14? I know I got this section wrong, so I scrapped it.

And if you gave a crack addict a sawbuck, unless he gave you a dated receipt showing his 501(c)(3) status, you can't claim it. Gone are the days of lumping in $500 for "cash" contributions. My father, an IRS agent of 33 years, would decry that change; it was his favorite deduction.

I can still hear him at the kitchen table saying, "Just put it down, they'll never audit that!"

Incoming!

My oldest son celebrated his 28th birthday on Sunday. He took his family out to fly a kite - perfect day. Work could never be better than play.

Watching John raise his own family is both joyous and nostalgic. I came across the photo above of the two of us playing G.I. Joe. Well, maybe not the two of us, but how else was the kid going to learn?

Suddenly I have the urge to buy Nathaniel an Army tank! If only they didn't have to kill each other with those damn things.

Stick to the kites, Johnny.

Artist Homecoming

Getting personal here, but my wife has been away for 9 days at a sacred art retreat. I have missed her.

She's been in Santa Fe re-creating the icon Christ Pantocrator. Depicting "God is with us", the oldest known Pantocrator was written in the 6th century.

Selfishly, I prefer she'd have shared the last week with me, but I haven't told anyone those thoughts, including God. Please don't tell Him. Realistically, she has been on loan to me from God for more than 30 years. You won't find me complaining about the allocation of time so far.

I am reminded of another iconic source as I reflect on Julie's homecoming, Paul's 1st letter to the people of Corinth. Drawn up circa 57 AD, Saint Paul reminds me on this day that love is patient, kind, free of jealousy and never seeks its own interest.

I'm with you, God!

March Meltdown

One sheet of ice left to finish up the NCAA hockey season. Saturday night in Denver, The Frozen Four will culminate with a national champion, and a priest will be there to bless the winners and losers. For the 1st time in tournament history, 2 Catholic schools will face off for all the marbles (pucks) - Boston College v. Notre Dame.

Oh, when the saints go marching in

Oh, when the saints go marching in

BC is making its 3rd straight appearance in the finals. An underdog throughout the tournament, the Eagles are hoping the 3rd time is a charm. The Fighting Irish have never been to the championship game, but having beat number 1 Michigan, Notre Dame is ready.

Lord, how I want to be in that number

When the saints go marching in

I Tawt I Taw a Puddy Tat

Cathy and her 20 year old whatyamacallit, you know....cat. Well, maybe not 20, but Aeriel has been around as long as we have known our friends. If only the cat could talk.

Got Milk?

I watched Family Feud tonight with Jessica; it's her favorite TV show. She unabashedly announced her primary goal in life is to be on The Feud. She also proclaimed if she gets The Mullen Clan on the show, Mom (Julie) is not invited!

The comment came immediately after a guy on tonight's show responded to "name something you buy in a case" with, "milk". Even when the milkman delivered, did we call it a case?

Anyhow, it brought on memories of some of Julie's guffaws while playing various trivia games. The most memorable being trying to get us to guess the famous movie, Something Down Below, otherwise known as What Lies Beneath.

Hey, we all knew what she meant. Do we still get the $20,000?

Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus

The worst sound in basketball is a free-throw hitting off the front rim. Memphis, up 2 with 16 seconds to go in the NCAA title game, heard the clang 3 times. Kansas hit a 3-pointer near the end of regulation to tie, and prevailed in overtime. Incredible ending for the Jayhawks, but a huge disappointment for the Tigers.

Had Memphis been Notre Dame or Georgetown, they would have known something was about to change. In the Mass, the sound of 3 bells signals the coming of the transubstantiation. I'm probably the only blogger in America drawing a parallel between missed free throws and the Sanctus, but I feel a mighty urge to preach. Say, Alleluia! Say, Amen!

Okay, back to the secular world. We set up a family fantasy tournament complete with a cash prize. Is gambling a sin? If it is, I should be okay as I finished in the bottom half of the standings. Allen, the Lord was looking after you as well, despite your cultish affinity to Cartman. We'll get you deprogrammed before the start of the football season.

John, you need to go to church and either thank God for your good fortune, or confess to selling your soul to the devil in exchange for all things Xbox. We all know you bought Xbox 360 with the $500 Mullen Clan Football prize, and by tomorrow evening you'll have spent the $100 Mullen Clan March Madness award on MLB 2008 or Halo 3. Hail, hail to King Biffy!

One last b-ball comment, something is wrong with the way Yahoo! designed the Fantasy Tournament team selection process. There is no way someone, or 2 someones as was the case in our tourney, should be allowed to pick a winner for every game except the finals. The site should put up a big WARNING saying, "pick a winner, you dummy!"

Primary Woman

"Primary Woman"

Oil on Canvas

by

Jessica Mullen

Copyright 2008

Image of my wife, Julie. Inspired by the song, "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" (McColl). Eyes show reflective sunrise, and background done in Starry Night style contains three stars representing our children John, Jessica and James. The heart of her lover (me!) is hidden in the swirls. Painting done in primary colors (original).

Nicely done, Jessica.

Bennie and the Jet

When Shepherd One touches down at Andrews AFB on April 15th, Pope Benedict XVI will become the 3rd pope to visit the United States. Those before him were Paul VI and the beloved globetrotter, John Paul II.

Everyone I know close to their Catholic faith is excited about the visit. Anticipation is high around the message Pope Benedict XVI will bring with him from The Vatican. In preparation for attendance at an event in New York I have been doing some reading of my own.

On a flight home from Chicago on Wednesday, I fell asleep reading a secular report from U.S. News & World Report. When I awoke, Benedict was outside the window greeting me with open arms.

I think he's going to stick to the message of Hope. I'm looking forward to it.

P.S. Image is reflection of magazine article just in case you were thinking miracle, or better, Photoshop!

Changing Careers

In June of 2006, I wrote a piece about finding the job of a lifetime (You're Hired). A tongue in cheek post, at least one part of the story had legitimate promise - recording children's books as sleeping aids.

Tonight I read a handful of fables to Nathaniel. He was with me through Jack & The Beanstalk, up against the ropes with The Three Bears, and then I knocked him out with The Gingerbread Man!

I'm going to check out the want ads tomorrow on Monster.com. I'm a natural.

Photo by Keyla Mullen - another natural & 2nd best photographer in the family.

Catching Up

Leap Year isn't just about an extra day in February, and the leaplings born on the 29th. In order for the earth to get back on it's normal rotation, and back to a 365 day year, it is necessary to skip another day on the calendar. This year the National Earth Orientation Service has chosen to move past April 1st - April Fools' Day. You can read about it here, if you don't believe me. I had planned ahead myself.