I still don’t know why this household got a robocall shortly after I’d started the process of requesting authorization so that a local pharmacy could take care of a necessary prescription.
But it’s a moot point, since (1) an authorization was written, (2) the authorization was sent to the pharmacy, (3) the pharmacy received the authorization, and (4) had enough methylphenidate on hand to give me another month’s supply.
Next month, I’ll go through the same process. But for now, I’ve got another four weeks of being able to use my brain without fighting the machinery. That’s good news.
I talked about this month’s excitement, briefly, on Monday:
My methylphenidate prescription, which must be re-authorized each month.
First, the good news.
I have enough methyphenidate for another five days, and may be in the process of resolving another SNAFU with both getting the legally-required authorization properly processed and satisfying the paper-shuffling needs of every organization involved.
The very frustrating news is that something happened this time, which resulted in this household getting a robocall which may or may not have originated with one of the aforementioned organizations.
Back to good news: it’s been a bit over a year and a half since getting this prescription filled involved either a bureaucratic mess or a serious supply issue.
That really is good news. But at the moment, sorting this month’s mess out — trying to, at any rate — has already taken nearly two hours. And, as of early afternoon this Monday, still has not been untangled.
heading
Chart showing potential drug issues, from a 2007 study.
The need for a legally-required authorization involves methylphenidate being a “controlled substance”, which reflects concerns which have some merit.
I also think that the frustration I’m dealing with this week, although coming from reasonable concerns, is also rooted in sincerely-felt paranoia and panic going back at least to the 1930s.
I’ve talked about the controlled substances act, “Reefer Madness”, “Captain Planet”, and perceptions — and my monthly prescription saga — before:
St. Peter’s Square and Basilica, from St Peter’s Basilica Virtual Tour.
More than 130 Cardinals will start voting on who gets Simon Peter’s job — the job he had before becoming St. Peter — after Pope Francis, starting next Monday.
“…The Cardinals present in Rome have agreed to begin the conclave on May 7th, 2025.
“The date was set on Monday morning by the approximately 180 cardinals present (just over a hundred of whom are electors) gathered for the fifth General Congregation in the Vatican.
“The conclave will take place in the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel, which will remain closed to visitors during those days….”
“The conclave will be preceded by a solemn Eucharistic celebration with the votive Mass Pro Eligendo Pontifice attended by the Cardinal electors.
“In the afternoon, the Cardinal electors proceed in a solemn procession to the Sistine Chapel, where the Conclave begins to elect the new Pope….”
“…They also pledge to maintain absolute secrecy regarding everything related to the election of the Roman Pontiff and to refrain from supporting any attempts of external interference in the election….”
The Cardinals also take an oath to faithfully carry out the Munus Petrinum if they’re chosen as the next pope. That’s Latin for Petrine Office: the pope’s job. “Pro Eligendo Pontifice”, mentioned in that excerpt, came out as “For Electing a Pope” when I ran it through Google Translate.
My Latin’s rusty, at best, but that sounds about right.
I’ll be mildly surprised if nobody complains about the “absolute secrecy” angle.
Expectations
“Transparency” has been a buzzword for some time now. Understandably, considering the opportunities we’ve had to notice disconnects between what folks with influence and authority say, what they do, and what they’re — I’d better stop now.
So, how come I’m not ranting and raving about the upcoming ‘lack of transparency’, and how not allowing “attempts of external interference in the election” would keep me from lobbying the cardinals? Or reading what some editor thought about the latest juicy details?
It’s complicated, but basically — I figure that enough folks will be upset as it is, when the College of Cardinals picks someone they wouldn’t have.
Getting even more of these easily-offended folks upset by letting them know why their personal preferences don’t dominate the College of Cardinals strikes me as pointless, and maybe unkind.
Cardinals: Not Just European
Header for The College of Cardinals page on Vatican.va.
It’s been about two decades since the College of Cardinals picked a new pope.
I’d enjoy digging into the institution’s history, seeing what the process was then and how it’s changed. That’s not going to happen, since I’m dealing with a time-and-effort-draining medical situation. Nothing major, but it’s been distracting.
So I took a quick look at a few resources, including this article:
“…The 135 Cardinals Electors of the College of Cardinals hail from 71 different countries across the five continents….
“…During his 12 years of pontificate Pope Francis significantly reshaped the College of Cardinals, making it a less Euro-centric and a more international body. This reflected both the late Pope’s personal inclination to shift the centre of gravity of Catholicism toward the Global South, with a focus on the ‘peripheries’, and the broader trend that the Church of the future will likely have an increasingly non-European face….
“…However, Europe still carries a significant weight in the College of Cardinals. The old continent is represented by 53 Cardinal electors (some of whom head Dioceses and Archdioceses in non-European countries, or serve as Apostolic Nuncios abroad or in the Curia), with Italy still having the largest number (19), followed by France (6) and Spain (5)….
“…37 Cardinal electors are from the Americas (16 from North America, 4 from Central America, and 17 from South America), 23 from Asia, 18 from Africa, and 4 from Oceania….”
Let’s look at those numbers, how many Cardinals are from which continents:
58 Europe
37 the Americas
17 South America
16 North America
4 Central America
23 Asia
18 Africa
4 Oceania
Adding those up, I got 140 Cardinals. Five of them apparently aren’t eligible to vote for our next pope:
“…Of the 135 Cardinals eligible to vote, two have confirmed they won’t be able to attend the Conclave for health reasons bringing the total down to 133….” (“Conclave: Who will elect the next Pope” Lisa Zengarini, Tiziana Campisi; Vatican News (April 29, 2025))
I hadn’t expected to see that many Cardinals from North America. Maybe Vatican News sees North America as extending beyond Mexico, maybe — and very likely — my knowledge of global demographics is a tad out of date.
At any rate, I didn’t mind seeing so many Cardinals from my part of the world. I also didn’t mind seeing that the College of Cardinals is reflecting changes in what I’ll call Catholic demographics.
We’ve been καθολικός, katholikos, universal, catholic, from very early on. It’s becoming increasingly obvious, and that’s another topic.1
The Catholic Church: Unchanging Basics, Changing Details
St. Peter’s, north transept; from St Peter’s Basilica Virtual Tour.
One thing I like about being a Catholic is that we have roots, depth.
Each time I’m at Mass, I take part in a ritual that’s been essentially the same for two millennia: and will stay essentially the same for however many millennia lie ahead.
By any reasonable standard, it’s a big deal.
“EUCHARIST: The ritual, sacramental action of thanksgiving to God which constitutes the principal Christian liturgical celebration of and communion in the paschal mystery of Christ. The liturgical action called the Eucharist is also traditionally known as the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. It is one of the seven sacraments of the Church; the Holy Eucharist completes Christian initiation (1322 ff.). The Sunday celebration of the Eucharist is at the heart of the Church’s life (2177). See Mass.”
“MASS: The Eucharist or principal sacramental celebration of the Church, established by Jesus at the Last Supper, in which the mystery of our salvation through participation in the sacrificial death and glorious Resurrection of Christ is renewed and accomplished. The Mass renews the paschal sacrifice of Christ as the sacrifice offered by the Church. It is called ‘Mass’ (from the Latin missa) because of the ‘mission’ or ‘sending’ with which the liturgical celebration concludes (Latin: ‘Ite, Missa est.’) (1332; cf. 1088, 1382, 2192). See Eucharist; Paschal Mystery/Sacrifice.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, Glossary)
Another thing I like about being a Catholic is that trying desperately to live as if it’s still the first century, the 1950s, or some other ‘good old days’ is not a core principle.
We have, over the last two millennia, changed some of our rules, adopted new styles — one of these days I’ll talk about Baroque, but not today.
I figure these changes will continue inspiring fervent pearl-clutching among folks who I’ll hope and assume equate their youth’s fashions and mores with virtue.
Some of our rules we can’t change.
For example, Jesus said we should love God, love our neighbor, and see everybody as our neighbor. Everybody. No exceptions. (Matthew 5:43–44, 22:36–40; Mark 12:28–31; Luke 6:31, 10:25–37; Catechism, 1789)
Putting it mildly, that’s not easy. But it has been and will continue being one of the rules we’re told to live by. Some of us don’t love our neighbors, or don’t love them consistently, but it’s still a rule.
Moving along.
A Millennium of Cardinals: Very Briefly
Pope Francis and international conference participants in Paul VI Audience Hall, Vatican City. (2024)
The College of Cardinals of the Catholic Church hasn’t always been there. They’ve been the part of the Roman Curia that decides who becomes the next pope since 1059, but the College didn’t exist before 1050.
Rules for the College of Cardinals have been changing over the last millennium.
Starting in the 12th century, Cardinals living outside Rome could be part of the College. We were going through a rough patch at the time — so starting in the 13th century, Cardinals selecting a pope were isolated from outside influence, and the rest of us kept in the dark about what was going on inside. I talked about “transparency” earlier.
Changes in how the College of Cardinals operates didn’t stop then. From the 13th to 15th century, there weren’t usually more than 30 members. Pope Sixtus V made it a rule that there wouldn’t be more than 70 in the College of Cardinals.
Today we’ve got upwards of 200 Cardinals, with 130-plus able to vote on who our next pope will be. That’s more than 60 over the total I got from that Vatican News article, and I haven’t found where the ‘extra’ Cardinals come from.
Pope Sixtus V’s rule obviously got changed somewhere between the 16th and 20th centuries. But finding, sorting, and making sense of a half-millennium’s accumulation of commentary on the College is far more than I’ve got time or resources for. So I’ll wrap this bit up, talk about more stuff that keeps changing, and call it a day.
Besides picking our popes, I gather that the College of Cardinals is an advisory council.2
The Last Supper: da Vinci, Dali, and Me
Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper”. (ca. 1495-1498)
About five centuries back, Leonardo da Vinci painted a mural that’s arguably today’s most famous image of the Last Supper.
There’s a scaled-down and re-done framed poster of da Vinci’s painting some 15 feet from my desk, with the door that was cut in the refectory’s wall edited out and a bit of embellishment on the viewer’s side of the table.
I’m drifting off-topic, or maybe not so much.
For many folks, da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” may be the definitive image for that event. That might account for a Protestant theologian calling Salvador Dali’s “The Sacrament of the Last Supper” “junk”.
I agree that the 20th century artist didn’t paint something that looks like it was made in the 15th century. But I think a Catholic theologian was nearer the mark in assessing Dali’s painting:
“Dalí’s true intention, which he has masterfully accomplished on this canvas, is to remind us of what is occurring in every celebration of this mystery of bread and wine: that the worship here on Earth makes present the realities of worship in Heaven.” (“Misunderstood Masterpiece”, Catholic Theologian Michael Anthony Novak. (2012) via The Sacrament of the Last Supper, Symbolism and interpretations, Wikipedia)
I don’t and won’t insist that everybody should like Dalí’s painting better than da Vinci’s. But I do think that both are, arguably, examples of sacred art:
“2502 Sacred art is true and beautiful when its form corresponds to its particular vocation: evoking and glorifying, in faith and adoration, the transcendent mystery of God — the surpassing invisible beauty of truth and love visible in Christ, who ‘reflects the glory of God and bears the very stamp of his nature,’ in whom ‘the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily.’ This spiritual beauty of God is reflected in the most holy Virgin Mother of God, the angels, and saints. Genuine sacred art draws man to adoration, to prayer, and to the love of God, Creator and Savior, the Holy One and Sanctifier.”
“2513 The fine arts, but above all sacred art, ‘of their nature are directed toward expressing in some way the infinite beauty of God in works made by human hands. Their dedication to the increase of God’s praise and of his glory is more complete, the more exclusively they are devoted to turning men’s minds devoutly toward God’ (SC 122).” (Catechism, 2502, 2513, and see VI. Truth, Beauty, and Sacred Art) [emphasis mine]
About those two paintings of the Last Supper: I’m convinced that artworks, and ideas, aren’t good because they’re old and bad because they’re new — or that new is always good and old always bad.3
It’s not 1059 any more: general audience with Pope Francis in the Paul VI Audience Hall. (August 2021)
Then there’s newfangled architecture, ecclesiastical and otherwise: like the Paul VI Audience Hall, just south of St. Peter’s Basilica. It seats 6,300, serving as a conference site and an alternative to St. Peter’s Square for a pope’s audiences.
It’s not a church building, used for worship, so the Paul VI Audience Hall isn’t, strictly speaking, ecclesiastical architecture.4
But it’s just simply crawling with Catholic cooties, so I ran into discussions of it’s snaky and sinister Satanic symbolism.
Maybe that should bother me more than it does, but after a lifetime’s exposure to my native culture’s quirks — it’s pretty much what I’ve come to expect from the frightfully fervent faithful.
Personally, I like the looks of the Paul VI Audience Hall. Not that my opinion counts for much in the great scheme of things.
I also learned a bit about the new(ish) building, including a smaller meeting hall that’s on an upper level. Spinning what I found into a spine-tingling description of ‘secret chambers’ where deviously deep, dark and dastardly deeds are discussed is an option. But not, I think, a reasonable one.
Instead, I’ve made a few notes about what I’ve been finding, and may talk about Vatican City’s architecture. Eventually.
— and a Reasonable Request
Finally, getting back to the College of Cardinals and picking our next pope, they’ve made a prayer request or two:
Makes sense to me, particularly since the more recent article won’t let me use the ‘I’m not qualified’ excuse. So I’ve added a short prayer to my daily routine.
Now, the usual links to more-or-less-related stuff:
Tenniel’s Alice, March Hare, Dormouse: and Mad Hatter. (1865) No ice cream here.
It’s two tales and two customers, actually. But that title was too cool to pass up.
Anyway, I worked at a place called Pellegrini Refrigeration for most of the time I spent in San Francisco.1 Part of my job was taking service calls.
Some of the service calls were routine. Some, like the customer who apparently wouldn’t or couldn’t believe what a technician said each time, were mildly frustrating. Mildly for me: I don’t think that customer was having a good time.
And one was in its own category. Make that two calls and two categories.
I don’t remember what led up to the first one. More accurately, I don’t remember what I’d been told about the situation.
I think this was my first week on the job.
I’d been shown how to make coffee, take soundings in the fuel tank and record the numbers: routines that kept the warehouse/office running. I was the only one there full-time, and I’m drifting off-topic.
The point is that what I did was “office clerk” stuff — mostly answering telephones, typing documents, and filing records: what the Occupational Outlook Handbook calls General Office Clerk.2
I’d also been brought up to speed on what sort of calls I should expect. Again, it was mostly routine: except for one call they said I could expect soon.
One of the customers — after nearly a half-century, I don’t remember if it had started with a service call or something involving a purchase.
Either way, this customer had been trying to get out of paying at least one bill. Unsuccessfully. Normally, I might consider the possibility that the customer had a point.
In this case — yeah. After one conversation, I decided that my employer had the right idea.
I am the Office Girl
Happily, I’d handled quite a few service requests before the difficult customer called.
He did most of the talking: starting with a nearly-polite ‘this is [name] [purpose of call]’, then a rapid transition to blustering.
After expressing displeasure at my employer’s failure to do things his way, he explained why I should agree with him.
I gave him the information I’d been told to provide, along with an admission that I lacked the authority to do any more than that.
Then the cycle began again.
Finally, he said something like ‘I’ve been working with the office girl! Let me talk to the office girl!’
That’s when I said, “I am the office girl”.
There was a long pause. Maybe he hadn’t known that guys can handle office work, maybe he realized that he’d been trying to browbeat an “office girl” who sounds a bit like James Earl “Darth Vader” Jones.
Whatever the reason, when he started talking again he was no longer in bluster mode: and called me “sir” before hanging up.
I didn’t get any more calls from him, which suited me fine.
A Calm, Even Jaunty, Customer
Pellegrini Refrigeration/Pelco — two parts of the same company, basically — handled commercial refrigeration units, from the sort of coolers you’ll see near the checkout in groceries to walk-in freezers.
Sooner or later, each unit would need servicing. That’s when I’d get a call, learn what had happened — or not happened — and write up a service request.
Some customers were calm, some sounded impatient, and one sounded — under the circumstances — remarkably jaunty.
I think the name of the place was The Mad Hatter. Among other things, the venue provided ice cream: enough to warrant having a walk-in freezer to keep it fresh.
This call came first thing Monday morning. My memory tells me that it was the Mad Hatter himself, the manager, who was calling. He was, and remains, the most resolutely cheerful person I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.
He’d received a one-ton shipment of ice cream late Friday, or maybe it was two tons.
It was, at any rate, enough to fill his walk-in freezer. Which, at the time, was in good working order.
Then he locked up and left for the weekend.
Monday Morning, Flowing Mush
Bright and early Monday morning, this exemplar of good humor returned to The Mad Hatter.
And discovered that his ice cream was now a flowing mass of sweet dairy-based goo.
He figured that the walk-in freezer’s refrigeration had failed Friday night or early Saturday.
In any case, what had been one ton (maybe two tons) of frozen ice cream was now, Monday morning, at room temperature: not only useless for his business, but a major clean-up job.
One of his top priorities, of course, was getting the walk-in freezer’s machinery working again: which is why I processed his request as quickly as I could.
I didn’t ask The Mad Hatter if he’d ordered another shipment of ice cream, or if one could arrive in time for his immediate needs.
For one thing, that would have delayed an urgent service call. For another, despite his upbeat manner, I thought this cheerful manager was having a really bad Monday.
As usual, I didn’t learn how that service call got resolved.
I hope The Mad Hatter got his freezer fixed, found enough ice cream to keep the business running until another big shipment could arrive, and had an inkling as to how much his calm — even cheerful — approach to a monumental Monday morning mess impressed this (now-former) office clerk.
More San Francisco memories, and another time when equipment wasn’t working:
“Vatican News to provide global coverage of funeral of Pope Francis” Vatican Radio – Vatican News will provide live coverage of the funeral of Pope Francis in St. Peter’s Square, followed by the procession through the streets of Rome to the Basilica of Saint Mary Major, offering broadcasts in 15 languages, including four sign languages. Vatican News (April 25, 2025)
The (short) article includes several links to “channels and platforms” for the broadcast.
I’m still working out what time it’ll be here in central Minnesota, and which channel/platform would get along best with this household’s Internet connection. 😉
I’ve posted a few things about the pope’s death and what’s happening — nothing long or profound — they’re easy enough to find — just scroll down, if you’ve come straight to A Catholic Citizen in America, or look for that link to a previous post that’s (probably) above this post’s title.
That’s all I’ve got today. Well, not all. But all I’m going to write.
Something new each Saturday.
Life, the universe and my circumstances permitting. I'm focusing on 'family stories' at the moment. ("A Change of Pace: Family Stories" (11/23/2024))
I was born in 1951. I'm a husband, father and grandfather. One of the kids graduated from college in December, 2008, and is helping her husband run businesses and raise my granddaughter; another is a cartoonist and artist; #3 daughter is a writer; my son is developing a digital game with #3 and #1 daughters. I'm also a writer and artist.
I live in Minnesota, in America's Central Time Zone. This blog is on UTC/Greenwich time.
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Blog - David Torkington
Spiritual theologian, author and speaker, specializing in prayer, Christian spirituality and mystical theology [the kind that makes sense-BHG]
It’s not a church building, used for worship, so the Paul VI Audience Hall isn’t, strictly speaking, ecclesiastical architecture.
