A Very Splendid Confusion

Due to some mental vaguery, at which I excel, there was some confusion (mostly mine, though I was happy to share)Tuesday night, but a more splendid confusion I never enjoyed.

See, last week I got a message from a friend of mine, Tom, sort of apologizing that he had run ahead and invited some fellow Chestertonians he knew from work to get together and start a group at a local pub. He thought maybe he should have checked with me first, which led me to believe he was talking about The League of Bearded Catholics.

Turns out he was more focused on forming a proper local G.K. Chesterton Society. So, no foul and no reason to apologize, at all. Quite the opposite. I've never been so happy to be mistaken!

There would certainly be a great deal of overlap in the two groups, if they don't turn out to be, in fact, identical in composition, at least at first. Perhaps our meetings might run concurrently, or (and I've thought of this before) the Chesterton Society might adjourn at a decent hour, and the Bearded Catholics might hang around for a bit of harmless mischief... at any rate, what Douglas Adams might have called "mostly harmless".

Or, we may have totally separate shindigs. Either way, the ball is rolling, now. Huzzah, all around!

The meeting was like a balm (A balm?! What are you giving him a balm for?!). An ointment, that is. Or maybe more like a hot bath. For one thing, our meeting place is an actual, proper local pub. A great - the greatest - kind of place to meet. An old downtown building, with low ceilings and lots of wood, from the town's railroad heyday, well restored but still comfortable as an old shoe. We sampled their ale and got to know one another a little, and found that familiar Chestertonian chord resonating in every one. This involved, of course, the usual familiarity and appreciation for Lewis, Tolkien and Belloc.

Just perfectly delightful people. We read some Chesterton aloud, and talked about everything from books to beer to beekeeping. To say I am really looking forward to next month's meeting would be what Chesterton called "a powerful understatement".

Comments

[Del]

I'm anxious to hear about the tobacco!

[Tim J.]

"I'm anxious to hear about the tobacco!"

You are then doomed to a lifetime of disappointment.

The pub where we met is just about all one could reasonably expect, locally, but there are laws about that sort of thing here, now, and they (sadly) had no porch or veranda where a civilized gent might light a pipe.

The rusty wheels of my mind are slowly turning on the problem, though...