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I Want To Be A Saint

Saint Owen (aka Saint Audoin) of Rouen is a saint who lived in the early 600s. By all accounts he was a good guy.  He was an outspoken opponent of simony, which seems like a good thing to be an opponent of.  Saint Owen is also described as a man of zeal, piety, and learning—all admirable attributes.  There is a rumor Frithegod, an eleventh-century poet, once wrote a poem about Saint Owen’s life, but that poem was lost at some point over the last millennium.  Sorry to let you down.

As I’m sure you know, being a saint is all about miracles.  Saint Joseph was known for his ability to levitate. Saint Christina the Astonishing often threw herself into burning furnaces and then emerged unharmed.  Saint Gerard Majella was able to read consciences.

Most impressive to me is Saint Alphonsus.  He was capable of bilocation and levitation.  I’m not sure if he was able to do both at the same time, but that’d be like a double miracle.  Or a miracle to the second power.  I’m not sure how the math on that works—hey, I never claimed to be Saint Hubert, the Patron Saint of Mathematics.

But I haven’t found a record of any miracles performed by Saint Owen of Rouen.  What gives?  I have to say, I’m feeling a bit letdown that Saint Owen didn’t do anything more flashy than stand up against simony.  It just feels like there’s an opening here.  If I can perform a couple of confirmed miracles, I think maybe I could be a Saint Owen, too.

So here’s what I’m thinking.  My life has been pretty amazing.  Perhaps you could even say it’s been miraculous.  A couple of examples:

  • Once, when the Final Jeopardy category was “Music,” I guessed “ABBA” during the commercial break before I even saw the question.  And I was right!
  • I was at Kevin Youkilis’ first major league game.  When he came up for his first at-bat, I stood up and yelled at the top of my lungs, “YOOOOOUK.” Thus began the miracle of the Youk chant.
  • One night in college my friend and I won 20 games of Beirut in a row without losing or dying of alcohol poisoning.
  • After a hockey game in high school, I ate two large cheese pizzas in one sitting. That’s definitely a miracle.
  • I have never broken a bone.  I was in a car accident, and because I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt my face hit the windshield.  I shattered the windshield but my nose didn’t break.  Therefore, I’m stronger than a car.  I don’t think just anyone can say that.
  • I know all the lyrics to Nirvana’s “Nevermind.”
  • I once walked into Cipriani in Manhattan with no reservation and was seated immediately.
  • Sharks have a week dedicated to me.
  • I know how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood.

Sainthood is similar to the Baseball Hall of Fame—you have to be retired for at least five years before you’re eligible.  So I can’t be a saint until after I’m gone.  Here’s where you all come in.  With my impressive list of miracles, I think I’m a shoo-in for beatification, if not outright canonization.

I’m not saying that will be my last wish or anything.  But you could put me up for sainthood and see what happens. Saint Owen of Boston has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?  I’m just saying, think about it.

6 responses to “I Want To Be A Saint”

  1. Jason Jason says:

    This is goddamn hilarious. Thank you for such strong humor today, just when I needed it (another miracle! Is there no stopping you?)

  2. paypar paypar says:

    Funny! What's funnier is that I'm reading thinking in my head 'oh that's funny, that's funny, ha ha' and then WHAT?! Mofo walked into Cipriani w/out a reservation? That's so a lie/cool.

  3. llxt llxt says:

    I'll back you. Actually, can I be your campaign manager in this quest for sainthood?

  4. Avatar The Tailor says:


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