Fr. Dennis can be seen waiting at the side entrance of St. Monica‘s on California Street at 6am every morning. If he didn’t wear his priest’s collar you’d swear he was on his way to the beach to catch a wave. The guy looks like Laird Hamilton with his wispy blonde hair and year-round tan. He holds a coffee and stands there smiling from 6 to 6:30, every morning, Monday through Friday, until he celebrates Mass. The guy is a saint.
Naturally, I try to avoid him like I owe him money. Don’t know why. Maybe it’s because we’ve run out of things to talk about. Maybe it’s because he’s so decent and I feel crummy about myself. Or maybe just because it’s a little after six in the morning and I just don’t want to talk to anybody.
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