Colorado state Sen. Kevin Priola announced on Monday that he would leave the GOP to register as a Democrat. “There is too much at stake right now for Republicans to be in charge,” he wrote in a letter announcing the switch. You can read his statement in its entirety here.
So have you ever had to publicly backtrack on something? As a newspaper columnist, I’ve had ample opportunity to mea culpa in front of the world on topics that include — but are not limited to — marriage equality and capital punishment.
You? And remember: Confession is good for the soul (and it will be entertaining as all get-out for the rest of us).
I’ve noticed that there are times when people make confessions about mistakes in their lives and some of the people closest to them refuse to believe what they are saying
It seems to be easier for people to believe a lie than to accept the truth
You bet, and I wrote a book about it: I was wrong to follow a cult leader and in the process, among other things, I became a Christian Nationalist. My confession is here:
I read it. I understand the points. Most religions desire dominance. Maybe the Shakers being one sect that had no such aspirations. Religious fundamentalism in every local have similar goals.
I had my first real job when I was sixteen. I was the mail clerk for a local bank after school. A couple of times a week checks that the bank would cash for customers would be bundled and I would put them into sealed sacks and wait for a courier to pick them up to be delivered to the larger banks in Hartford and Boston where my bank had accounts. They would be held against the banks account until the checks cleared. One night I accidently switched the tags on the bags and the Boston bags went to Hartford and vice versa. It potentially saddled the bank with a liability of a couple of hundred thousand dollars on the account in Hartford. I swallowed hard and called the bank president at home, sure that I would lose my job. He took care of it, telling me that it was more a inconvenience than a risk to the bank. He called me into his office the next day and thanked me for calling him and added that if I hadn't I would have lost my job. The lesson was worth the moments I spent in terror.
I had my first not real job at 14 years of age working for a carpenter renovating the building on Pearl and Ann St in Hartford. The carpenter loved country music and he had his dag gone AM radio blaring country every day. Well, wouldn’t you know, I eventually took a liking to some of the country singers and to this day when one of those songs play, it sends me back to 1967 working for the man.
I wish he were considering voting differently, though. I mean, on more than environmental care.
I am a major proponent of both confession and repentance, and wish they weren't so out of fashion. They are at least tied for being the easiest way to change course with momentum and grace.
There are several in our town government positions who switched from being Republicans to Democrats or Independents. They could not take the conspiracies and extreme positions on a national (& local) level, and continue to be affiliated with them.
When mama decided that being a Roman Catholic was the best route to take in life (I did a course correction by 7th grade when I stood up to Father Emerling in St Joes Cathedral School and told him I wouldn’t get a butch haircut like his two weeks before summer vacation and was promptly expelled), my early confessions went something like this. “Bless me father for I have sinned. I had impure thoughts and actions” (and these sins never seemed to go away either no matter how many Our Fathers, Hail Marys, and Novenas I invested in.) It was enjoyable watching Miss Doolittle’s (who sat next to me in home room) little breasts begin to grow in 6th grade. By 7th grade, there were in my mind similar to apples on the apple tree but I won’t go any farther on that matter. There were probably other sins tossed into the apple sin cart like, “I took God’s name in vain, (yes, I cussed like a mother effer (can I say it), I might have even stole some candy from Fantones candy store down Laurel Street. I was a sinful little runt and fully enjoyed the sins of my youth. There was nothing more enjoyable then thinking up a new sin to commit. And act on. I once peed on my sister’s bed post after she slammed the front gate on my hand for taking all the attention she once had before my birth. But I don’t think I confessed that one so I hereby confess it now. But my revenge was worth the hurt of the hand injury. I think I’ve kept that revenge thing in mind throughout my life. Revenge can be sweeter than wine.
(I think you just inspired me to continue on this topic for inclusion into my future memoirs. Thank you, Susan.)
Ha. I am here to serve. Know what could give a priest fits during confession? Send in a fundamentalist with their laundry list of daily sins. We are trained to keep a running list.
I know you don’t want to know what happened when my 4th grade lay teacher, Mrs. Henigan, put me under her desk for talking in class. Or maybe I should say, what could have happened. Don’t ask because I use this vignette in my occasional stand-up and religious people usually don’t laugh. The punch line ends with Father Emerling. I once asked a room full of Baptists (I knew they were Baptists from Jamaican origin) if there were any Roman Catholics before telling the yarn and no one raised a hand so I though I had a decent chance in getting at least a cracked smile. No, dead silence. Nothing like a good failure to create a stronger presence.
I’ve noticed that there are times when people make confessions about mistakes in their lives and some of the people closest to them refuse to believe what they are saying
It seems to be easier for people to believe a lie than to accept the truth
You bet, and I wrote a book about it: I was wrong to follow a cult leader and in the process, among other things, I became a Christian Nationalist. My confession is here:
https://charleneedge.com/confession-im-a-former-christian-nationalist/
Thank you for this link.
I read it. I understand the points. Most religions desire dominance. Maybe the Shakers being one sect that had no such aspirations. Religious fundamentalism in every local have similar goals.
Kill all fun? Maybe that was just my own branch...
I had my first real job when I was sixteen. I was the mail clerk for a local bank after school. A couple of times a week checks that the bank would cash for customers would be bundled and I would put them into sealed sacks and wait for a courier to pick them up to be delivered to the larger banks in Hartford and Boston where my bank had accounts. They would be held against the banks account until the checks cleared. One night I accidently switched the tags on the bags and the Boston bags went to Hartford and vice versa. It potentially saddled the bank with a liability of a couple of hundred thousand dollars on the account in Hartford. I swallowed hard and called the bank president at home, sure that I would lose my job. He took care of it, telling me that it was more a inconvenience than a risk to the bank. He called me into his office the next day and thanked me for calling him and added that if I hadn't I would have lost my job. The lesson was worth the moments I spent in terror.
That was a smart bank president.
I had my first not real job at 14 years of age working for a carpenter renovating the building on Pearl and Ann St in Hartford. The carpenter loved country music and he had his dag gone AM radio blaring country every day. Well, wouldn’t you know, I eventually took a liking to some of the country singers and to this day when one of those songs play, it sends me back to 1967 working for the man.
Well, that's interesting.
I wish he were considering voting differently, though. I mean, on more than environmental care.
I am a major proponent of both confession and repentance, and wish they weren't so out of fashion. They are at least tied for being the easiest way to change course with momentum and grace.
I found it funny that he reassured everyone he'd still vote the same way. There are Democrats who will vote with him.
Surely.
:(
Oh, yeah, and I don't have much of a public, but sure I've confessed and repented publicly.
I was floored when I read about Priola. There are plenty of Never Trumpers, but most still say they'd never vote for a commie-socialist-Democrat.
I wonder how many would follow, if they had the guts.
There are several in our town government positions who switched from being Republicans to Democrats or Independents. They could not take the conspiracies and extreme positions on a national (& local) level, and continue to be affiliated with them.
When mama decided that being a Roman Catholic was the best route to take in life (I did a course correction by 7th grade when I stood up to Father Emerling in St Joes Cathedral School and told him I wouldn’t get a butch haircut like his two weeks before summer vacation and was promptly expelled), my early confessions went something like this. “Bless me father for I have sinned. I had impure thoughts and actions” (and these sins never seemed to go away either no matter how many Our Fathers, Hail Marys, and Novenas I invested in.) It was enjoyable watching Miss Doolittle’s (who sat next to me in home room) little breasts begin to grow in 6th grade. By 7th grade, there were in my mind similar to apples on the apple tree but I won’t go any farther on that matter. There were probably other sins tossed into the apple sin cart like, “I took God’s name in vain, (yes, I cussed like a mother effer (can I say it), I might have even stole some candy from Fantones candy store down Laurel Street. I was a sinful little runt and fully enjoyed the sins of my youth. There was nothing more enjoyable then thinking up a new sin to commit. And act on. I once peed on my sister’s bed post after she slammed the front gate on my hand for taking all the attention she once had before my birth. But I don’t think I confessed that one so I hereby confess it now. But my revenge was worth the hurt of the hand injury. I think I’ve kept that revenge thing in mind throughout my life. Revenge can be sweeter than wine.
(I think you just inspired me to continue on this topic for inclusion into my future memoirs. Thank you, Susan.)
Ha. I am here to serve. Know what could give a priest fits during confession? Send in a fundamentalist with their laundry list of daily sins. We are trained to keep a running list.
I know you don’t want to know what happened when my 4th grade lay teacher, Mrs. Henigan, put me under her desk for talking in class. Or maybe I should say, what could have happened. Don’t ask because I use this vignette in my occasional stand-up and religious people usually don’t laugh. The punch line ends with Father Emerling. I once asked a room full of Baptists (I knew they were Baptists from Jamaican origin) if there were any Roman Catholics before telling the yarn and no one raised a hand so I though I had a decent chance in getting at least a cracked smile. No, dead silence. Nothing like a good failure to create a stronger presence.
Have I ever admitted a mistake?!?!
Geez , it’s the only way I’ve remained married for 51 years.
Then I believe you are living your life properly.