Marilyn’s paternity remains an issue of debate to this day. The two main candidates are Gladys’ second husband, Edward Mortenson, who was listed as the father on Norma Jeane’s birth certificate, and Stanley Gifford, a co-worker of Gladys’ with whom she apparently had an affair around the time of Norma Jeane’s conception. Several other men have been suggested as candidates, but these two remain the most commonly debated. Marilyn herself believed Gifford to be her father, having been shown a picture of the man as a child by her mother and told “this is your father”. Her attempts to contact Gifford over the years were rebuffed.
My assumption is that the priest as my confessor was trying to tell me if we don’t believe that the church will overcome these evils then we don’t believe the words of our Lord found in that particular passage and if we don’t believe our Lord’s words in scripture we really don’t have the fullness of faith. I am praying for the pope and the church. However, I am a person that needs to be proactive and sometimes prayer is not enough for me and this is where I can get myself in trouble . The priest ( our parish pastor) was generous in saying I was a good catholic because of my concern and that I should never be afraid of upholding the truth. Let us pray and let us not fear the enemy but be as courageous as ever in speaking the truth especially with respect to the very grave evils that some are trying to “normalize”. Satan is alway at work and this is just a test. If the laity collectively would display the courage needed to support this important doctrine it would send a message to pastors and bishops. Perhaps then it would gain even a small mention in a homily….that in my opinion would be a good start. Lets see what happens given the what has played out in this synod. Pax CHristi.
They work, my father’s fashion tips. That’s what’s funny about them, besides the fact that they are…well, funny in the first place. They work, or they worked, for him, for my father. They were cohesive and complementary; they spoke in a single voice; they were his manifesto. Take a look, for example, at a picture of my father standing in a group of his fellow salesmen at a Bar Mitzvah circa 1962. Take a look at the one man whose jacket sleeves cover his shirt cuffs, like the sleeves of a cassock. He does not look merely glum or sour; he looks defeated, whipped, scared , precancerous—a recessive man, with a receding hairline. Now take a look at my father, holding in one pinkie-ringed hand a drink and a cigarette. He is about 43 years old, and, by God, he is glistening , for he is in his prime, and all the elements are in place. He has a fresh burn, and he is wearing a shirt with a high collar. He is wearing a suit of midnight blue, single-breasted, with a silver tie and a handkerchief in the pocket (I’ve never heard him call it a “pocket square“), which he does not fold into regimental points but rather simply “throws in there,“ so that what shows is just “a puff.“ He is undoubtedly wearing bikini underwear, for anybody who wears bor shorts is “a square“ or “a farmer,“ as in, “What are you, a farmer?“; and he is undoubtedly wearing socks, or “hose,“ that go “over the calf, knee-high,“ for if there’s anything he hates more than long sleeves on a suit jacket, it’s “ankle socks,“ because “I can’t stand to see someone sitting down with their ankles showing—their white ankles and their black socks.“ His shirt has French cuffs, of course, and he’s showing plenty of them—“at least an inch“—and he looks sharp … and by sharp I mean avid, by sharp I mean almost feral, by sharp I mean that if this were not a Bar Mitzvah but rather a meeting of the Five Families, when the schnorrer in the long sleeves and the bor shorts and the ankle socks would be the guy fingered for a rubout, and the guy showing plenty of cuff would be the man commissioned for the kill. 1962: a good time for sharp dressers. 1962: Even the freaking president is a sharp dresser, and he’s just about the same age as my father, and as for him, as for Lou Junod, well, he’s still coming on , and if he looks, in this picture, slightly dangerous, in his own proud display, I also have no doubts that on this resplendent day he was one of the most beautiful men in the world.