For me, the pinnacle of tragedy was reading about a great upcoming episode of Man From Uncle, only to find out I must sit in the front row—once again—for Revival. I was, of course, a Baptist Preacher’s Kid who felt media was more relevant to my life than another rousing sermon on why I was failing Jesus, come at the altar call to repent, and, by the way, don’t forget to drop some cash in the offering plate. A sermon resented all the more because Napoleon Solo was being tortured by THRUSH even while I was supposed to be tortured by guilt.

Even worse, the services ran twice as long because the congregation didn’t have to get home in time for football.

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Living metaphor. Follow me @stephens_pt.

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