Facepalm Sunday.

Gorgeous weekend here, and I'm sad. We're all magnets with the same polarity; you get too close to anyone on the street or in the store and you are instantly repelled from each other. There's no baseball, although of course by the end of the first week it's always possible that the beloved Mets would be mathematically eliminated anyhow.

It is Palm Sunday, which is a sad day; it is the start of Holy Week, and Mass includes the reading of the entire Passion. The five weekend Masses are the longest our church has all year, except for the Easter Vigil Mass next Saturday night. And this year it's sadder yet, as there's no Mass in the Archdiocese, thank to that damned virus from China. We'll watch Mass online, but it's not the same.

It may be especially disappointing for the A&P Catholics. Unlike that other uncommonly seen variety of observant Catholic, the C&E, who only turns up on Christmas and Easter, the A&P only comes to church for Ash Wednesday (which is not even a day of obligation) and Palm Sunday. I can see making the effort for the two biggest holidays on the church calendar, but why lesser days instead?

The theory is that they are the only days you get something free from the Church. Besides, you know, the bulletin and -- oh, yeah -- Holy Communion. This year the A&Ps were able to get their free ashes, since the churches had not been closed yet on Ash Wednesday, but they will be unable to complete the Denominational Double with a palm frond.

Everybody really likes to get those palm fronds, though. Especially if they know the trick to tying them into crosses. It figures that this is the first year I found nice, clear directions, and I have no blessed palm fronds to tie.

In other words, in this time of trouble, I ain't got no fronds. No frond to speak of. Not a frond in the world.