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Rev. Know-It-All Tells All

Reverend Know-it-All remembers the 60's. And it's not pretty:

Dear Rev. Know it All,
I don’t know why I bother to read your columns. I suppose it’s like looking at a train wreck. One doesn’t want to slow down and waste time, but it’s hard to ignore such a disaster. I’m tired of your constant whining. You don’t approve of anything normal. Modern marriage isn’t good enough for you. You don’t approve of what most people want at Mass. On and on! Or is it just that you’re better than the rest of us?
Yours,
Ms. Guyded

Dear Ms. Guyded,
Better? Hardly! I am still trying to recover from the groovy sixties. I was an avid student of Lenin, Mao and Trotsky. I kept company with a young woman who was a devotee of Sartre and Camus. I wandered through Europe with a pack on my back. I played my guitar at anti-war protests and planned Hootenanny Masses, even though by that time I was beginning to think of myself as more Hindu/Buddhist than Christian.
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