Well, as of Saturday my good friend and brother Chris Hodapp is back from his, er, extended vacation from Freemasonry.
Now maybe we can get on with the real work of the Fraternity instead of blathering on about who said what when and to whom.
Some say the French are our only hope of saving us from ourselves. I think we are our own only hope of that. Time heals all wounds and aids in evolution, slow though it may be.
Viva la revoluci!
LATER: Some may say (and have) that since I wasn't suspended myself, I can't understand what it was like and that it's easy for me to say "time heals all wounds". Some could be wrong. Some forget that I had to sit there all by myself in a lodge that was tearing itself apart without Brother Hodapp's gentle touch. (I don't have his people skills, folks.) Frankly, I damn near resigned my positions -- I did resign as Trustee -- and would have demitted just so I wouldn't have to deal with it.
Some DO need to get over it. Or they need to turn their official duties over to other people and sit on the sidelines until they do. It does you absolutely no good to sit and brood, Brother. Jump back in the pool with the rest of us, just like Chris is going to when he gets home. There's too much at stake and anyway, the wench is dead. Or at least out of office.
Now, I'm done arguing my point from one blog to another. I've said what I have to say. This is an ex-parrot.
