Jim, your note reminded me of my checkered misspent youth when as teens we wayward youths would to go to Confession in a neighboring town because the priest there was very old Italian and very hard of hearing. He did not know what we were confessing. All he knew is when we stopped talking, we were finished confessing our sins and he would give us absolution. One could confess anything from the Lindberg kidnapping to the Kennedy assassination. Confession was the "big eraser" and we were free to "go and sin some more." Cinder City, here I come!As the Italian priest who taught at my high school would say, "That's-a high-class! Ah, the fun-fun!" (For anyone who's offended, he's still living. Father Daniel Mirabelli. Happy to give you a phone number if you don't think he actually talks that way! )