The Tao of Masonry

We have nine Masonic Districts here in Connecticut, and the “guys who have been around” tell us that they were created according to the old rail road lines that ran in those areas. Back in the pre-automobile days, the District Deputies needed to take the trains (and then what, a horse cart?) to visit the various lodges. An amusing idea, although I have my doubts as to the veracity.

Several times a year, usually in a month with 5 weeks, the senior officers and other interested members of the lodges in a district will get together in order to keep abreast of what’s happening, to ask for (or offer) support for upcoming degree work, or to spread the news about some community activity. These meetings are called Blue Lodge Councils, and most lodges find them helpful. Our district has a little competition: the lodge with the most members that show up are awarded the “Traveling Gavel,” which entitles them to nothing except bragging rights. But it’s fun.

Friendship Lodge No. 33 is located at the southern end of the 5th District, and last night I drove up to Canada Collinsville to sit at the Blue Lodge Council meeting held at Village Lodge No. 29. As it happens, this was the Annual Meeting, which means a changing of the guard. Traditionally, the outgoing District Deputy for the district is arm-twisted elected to the position of BLC President, and his Associate Grand Marshal  is brow-beaten politely agrees to be Vice President or perhaps  is blackmailed into fills in Treasurer/Secretary position.

Last night, the previous  Associate Grand Marshall was in attendance, but the District Deputy was fishing and gambling away on an important business trip in Las Vegas. However, a fortuitous circumstance allowed a brother from Frederick Franklin Lodge No. 14 to contact RW. Bro. Larry over Skype using his iPad. The outgoing President, wanting to make sure RW Larry didn’t escape  seeing an opportunity for efficiency, was able to install his successor by placing the iPad in the East and swearing him in.

We rounded out the evening by playing Masonic Jeopardy, a trivia game in which teams (in this case, the A side of the district vs the B side) answer various questions on ritual, rules, and history.

And then I had to take the train back from Canada make the long drive back home.

It’s some kind of rule  in New England that we need a Masonic Mardis Gras; that is, a break from wearing the formal suits to lodge for at least one evening, and instead, dress up in the most garish costumes that seem to be specifically designed to emphasize our expanding waistlines by covering our upper bodies with bright colors and ridiculous prints.

That’s right, I’m talking about Hawaiian Shirt Night. It wouldn’t be summer in New England if a lodge didn’t have a Hawaiian Shirt Night. That is, except for those lodges that have Hawaiian Shirt Nights during the winter.

We didn’t have a luau for dinner, but we did have hot dogs, burgers, and barbecued chicken.

Maybe the purpose of the  shirts is to hide the barbecue sauce and ketchup?

In the old days, secret societies were really secret. None of this business with the bumper stickers, public open houses, billboards, web sites, or even parades.

Is it possible to belong to a society that is so secret that you can’t even be sure that you are a member?

Yes, Friendship Lodge is back for another two weekends at the Southington Apple Harvest Festival. Once again we are featuring our fried apple wedges, and despite the damp weather, the crowds are lining up for a taste.

I’m sure that you’ve heard the term “Belly Mason,” but that’s not a typo in the subject heading.

Bello is the Italian adjective for “good” or “nice,” as in having done a good job in making a sandwich form steak marinated in tomato sauce, smothered in roasted peppers and covered with provelone cheese on a fresh grinder roll. Yes, that’s a long definition, but it’s relevant because this weekend is the Southington Italian Festival, and Friendship Lodge once again has a bracciola sandwich booth set up.

I know that we generally don’t equate Freemasonry with any ethnic celebrations, with the possible exception of Scotch-tasting nights, but consider that the members of a lodge are representative of the members of the local community. Southington has a fairly large Italian-American population; once a very rural town, Southington is located between the cities of New Britain and Waterbury, and over the last several decades, many of the Italian-American families moved from those cities and settled in town. Consequently, where the old town records typically featured names like Adams, Smith, or Flanders, it’s now not uncommon to open the local paper and see names like DePaolo, Secondo, or Della Vecchia.

The Italian Festival is only a few years old, and now takes up most of the main street in the downtown area. Last year some of the members of Friendship Lodge decided to enter in order to have the opportunity for some community exposure, and to hopefully make a few dollars for the Trowel Club. Since we were already known for selling the steak and cheese sandwiches at the Apple Harvest Festival, it was very little work to set up a booth for a more Italian-themed treat.

I was away last year, but this year I was biking in the area and stopped by to see what I could do. The answer was “nothing” because the weather was 95°, with 95% humidity; not many people were in the mood to eat anything except some gellato or Italian Ices. I came back later that evening, but the temperature and humidity was still pretty high. It seemed that a lot of people were walking around with their drinks, but the tempting aromas just were not enough to induce people to eat.

The Festival ends today. Hopefully it’s going to be a bit less humid, or else we’re going to be eating beef at the next few dinners after lodge reopens in September.

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