Sally Quinn at the Washington Post has a column in which she calls for those darn Catholics to cease to be Catholic basically, and begins it all when she recalls the humiliation she felt during her salad days, presumably sometime after dinosaurs ruled the earth, when she was turned away from the Vatican because her skirt was too short. Unfortunately for her, her column attracted the attention of Christopher Johnson at Midwest Conservative Journal, a non-Catholic who has taken up the cudgels so frequently in defense of the Church that I have designated him Defender of the Faith:
Yeah, here’s the thing. We Protestants obviously don’t have a dog in this hunt, as they say, but lots of us would really appreciate it if you mackeral snappers would pick the damned pace up and elect a new pope yesterday. Then we wouldn’t have to have read about how Sally Quinn visited the Vatican right around the time that William Howard Taft, AKA ”Fatso,” was US President:
The first time I visited the Vatican as an adult I was in my 20s. I was so excited. My boyfriend and I dressed up as if it were Easter Sunday. He wore a coat and tie. I wore a long sleeved black dress with pearls and little ballet flats. We were turned away. It seems my skirt was a half inch too short. I was crushed. I felt ashamed and humiliated. I certainly had not set out to offend anyone, much less God.
Two things, Sal. They’re called “travel guides” and just about everybody publishes them. So ignorance of the law and all that. And if I’m wearing a Motörhead T-shirt and I haven’t shaved or bathed in three days, give or take, I don’t have anything to complain about if Vatican border guards tell me, “Not so much, no.” Quinnsie, on the other hand, went back to the Vatican some time during the Coolidge Administration.
The last time I visited was five years ago, after the child sexual abuse scandal. Not long before, I had spent a weekend at Williamsburg, and I remember thinking that perhaps one day the Vatican would be like that same historic village. There would be actors dressed as priests and nuns and one actor playing the pope in flowing robes waving from the balcony, remembering an institution as it once existed.
And anybody with a brain would be Episcopalian by now. A few days later, Sally’s little “On Faith” thing ran some advice to the Roman Catholic Church from a Jewish atheist.
[A whole lot of stupid-ass liberal bumper stickers omitted.]
So, Rome? We’re going to need you to hurry things along, all right? Really.
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The video at the beginning of this post is the hilarious initial show of Quinn’s disastrous episode of being a joint anchor with veteran newsman Hughes Rudd in 1973 for the CBS Morning News.
Quinn had established a reputation among journalists of using her physical attractiveness for getting stories. CBS played this up as if she were a sex goddess who was going to send the CBS Morning News’ ratings through the roof and finally unseat the Today Show which had been winning the morning ratings war since 1952.
As Quinn herself admitted afterwards she had no business being in front of a camera and CBS gave her zip training. The whole thing crashed and burned in a few months.
Quinn of course went on to fame and fortune the old fashioned way: by becoming Ben Bradlee’s, then executive editor of The Washington Post and now Vice-President at large of the same fish wrap, mistress, wrecking his second marriage, and becoming his third wife. This is of course why The Washington Post still publishes her increasingly wacky mind droppings.