Bring Me the Head of the Pope

Posted on May 26, 2011

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Some years back, Now Husband Dan acquired, in a very interesting and not-for-public consumption way, a much-larger-than life-size exact replica of the head of Pope John Paul II.  The sculptor was a friend of his.  We are neither Catholic nor Big Head collectors.  For this reason,the larger-than-life-size likeness of a deceased pope’s head didn’t fit into our current art collection. I already have a portrait I did of my daughter, and against all wisdom, I painted something larger-than-life.  After it was completed, I understood why portraits shouldn’t be larger-than-life.  It’s sort of creepy, unless you live in a palace.  Which I don’t. 

So John Paul 2 has been relegated to the top shelf of the guest bedroom bookcase, where he has been, for the last few years, staring at overseeing being oblivious to the sexual antics of our various houseguests. 

But then, recently, John Paul was beatified.  When I heard the news, I ran into NHD’s study, where he was lying on the futon, sleeping in front of McHale’s Navy reruns. 

“John Paul has been beatified!”  I yelled.  “And you are sleeping with your mouth open!”  

“Why is this important?” NHD woke up and answered.  I didn’t know whether he was referring to the pope or to his mouth. 

I decided to ignore the realization that I was married to an open mouthed, drooling, napper. “Time to sell the pope!  Quick!  Beatification leads to sainthood!  We have gold sitting on the top shelf of our guestroom bookcase! “ 

“Who would want the pope?” NHD asked.  “And why is there drool on my shirt?” 

“Listen!  We have a small window of opportunity, here.  We have to sell NOW!” 

“Why the rush?” NHD asked.  Maybe we should wait until he is actually declared a saint.” 

“You would think so,” I answered, “but maybe it’s like a marriage ceremony.  Maybe right before they do the saint thing,they ask if anyone knows why he shouldn’t be named a saint and one of the cardinals leaps up and shouts, ‘JP2 and I blah-blah-blah back in ’63 and the cops promised it wouldn’t be on our record if we returned the elephant to the zoo’ and what then?  That just happened on ‘General Hospital’ and the wedding almost didn’t happen.” 

“What happened? “

 “Carly tried to stop the wedding between Sonny and Brenda but their love was too strong and so they got married anyway but then the limo blew up with Brenda in it.  Why are we talking about this?  We are supposed to be talking about selling the pope!”

 “Did Brenda die?”  I started to answer NHD, then reminded myself that he didn’t care about Brenda’s welfare to the extent I did.  He was merely trying to distract me.  I stood firm in keeping the conversation focused on selling PJP2.  NHD agreed to pursue possibilities.  We are now waiting for a call from a dealer to find out how much the Pope’s head might be worth.   

Meanwhile, if any of you have connections at the Vatican or to wealthy collectors of religious art, please pass this on.  Oh, and tell them, I’m not exactly sure but I might have seen a tear coming from one of John Paul’s eyes.  Just a thought.  I could be wrong.  But maybe not.

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Posted in: humor, satire