By Ted Furlow

 I rolled up to 74 this October, and while it’s not a landmark year like 75 or 80, it is a moment to stop and think. When I was a young boy, I recall that my mother and sister used to talk about the wonderful, chatty sharings in women’s powder rooms. I thought that sounded interesting, but the resident family alpha male, my father, had a different take on the topic.

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By Ted Furlow

 When I first began to read the works of the Dutch spiritualist Henri Nouwen, it became an addiction. Like so many readers, I was reeled in by his prose, his insights, and his sense of spirituality. As my bookshelf began to blossom with his work, it occurred to me that the quality of some of his work was irregular.

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By Ted Furlow

 Back in the dark ages of the Latin Mass, I was privileged to be an altar boy. While I have very fond memories of the liturgy in those days, I have very limited enthusiasm for the priest facing the wrong way and using a language that no one understands. That said, I must confess to be a “Smells and Bell”s guy, and I do miss the theater of the pre-Vat II liturgy.

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