Past Events

25th (more or less) Annual 4th of July Crabfeast
July 20, 2003

State of the Crab Address
Don Mosher
Crab of the Year 2002

During the past year St. Mark’s has had to cope with many stresses, including income shortfalls, duplicate fund raising campaigns, budget and personnel reductions, crumbling edifices and the imminent departure of Stephanie Nagley. There has, gratifyingly, been no shortage of things to crab about.

Despite these crab-favorable developments, just as in the Chesapeake Bay, the crab population at St. Mark’s has been diminishing. Grousing, second guessing, criticizing and complaining are on the wane, and there has been an appalling upsurge of civility, agreeability, and even supportiveness. The situation is very grave, and immediate action is needed to discover the causes and to correct this alarming situation. To this end, I have undertaken some research on local crab ecology. There is some bad news and some good news.

First, the bad news. The cause of the decline in the number of crabs has heretofore been misidentified. It is not due to Chesapeake tributary runoff or El Nino. The problem (at least here at St. Mark’s) is that the crab is losing habitat because of the encroachment of a rival species. What species, you ask? It is the “dear.” This one is spelled D-E-A-R. You know how to spot the “dears,” those irksome people who are forever approving, agreeing, uttering effusive pleasantries, sometimes even complimenting. Drastic measures are needed to control them!

Now for the good news. The embattled St. Mark’s crab population, in response to the “dear” threat, has shown some remarkable responses. New crab species, each with its own unique habitat niche or adaptive behavior pattern have evolved. Let me describe a few:

• First (he said modestly) there is me, the King Crab, noted for its long survival in deep, cold, murky environments.
  
  
• There are the Hermit Crabs, those who react to these stressful times at St. Mark’s by withdrawing.
  
  
• The Horseshoe Crabs hope to improve our fortunes by resorting to the use of lucky charms.
  
  
• Those who get distressed, disheartened and depressed by our difficulties are classified as the Blue Crabs.
  
  
• Those who just mess around instead of working on the problems are aptly termed the Fiddler Crabs.
  
  
• The She-crabs are a coterie of dedicated and energetic women who undertake many necessary tasks but occasionally wind up in the soup from getting overextended.
  
  
• A species that is observed to be active mainly on warm Saturdays exhibits grounds and garden grooming behavior. They become most crabby when flowers or border planting are carelessly trodden upon and are known as Land Crabs.
  
  
• A species observed only recently at St. Mark’s scuttles sideways around the outside of the church with its beady eyes pointed ever upwards toward the masonry emitting “tsk, tsk” sounds. This, obviously, is the Stone Crab.
  
  
• Last, but most rather than least, is the species of which only a single specimen has been identified, the individual who will soon wear this crown and be known as (what else?) the Crab Imperial.
  
  

In closing, I shall read a lyric by Sir William Gilbert, my personal nominee for Poet Laureate of Crabdom. It expresses the frustration and annoyance of the true crab who finds himself surrounded by dear people who are (ugh!) nice.

Whene’er I spoke
Sarcastic joke
    Replete with malice spiteful,
This people mild
Politely smiled,
    And voted me delightful!
Now when a wight
Sits up all night
    Ill-natured jokes devising,
And all his wiles
Are met with smiles,
    It’s hard, there’s no disguising! Ah!

Oh, don’t the days seem lank and long
When all goes right and naught goes wrong,
And isn’t your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at!
    When German bands
    From music stands
Played Wagner imperfectly—
    I bade them go --
    They didn’t say no,
But off they went directly!
    The organ boys
    They stopped their noise
With readiness surprising,
    And grinning herds
    Of hurdy-gurds
Retired apologizing! Ah!
    I offered gold
    In sums untold
To all who’d contradict me --
    I said I’d pay
    A pound a day
To anyone who kicked me --
    I bribed with toys
    Great vulgar boys
To utter something spiteful,
    But, bless you, no!
    They would be so
Confoundedly politeful! Ah!
In short, these aggravating lads,
They tickle my tastes, they feed my fads,
They give me this and they give me that,
And I’ve nothing whatever to grumble at!

Oh, don’t the days seem lank and long
When all goes right and naught goes wrong,
And isn’t your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at!

As we keep trying to explain every year, to little avail, the 4th of July Crabfeast is a curmudgeonly celebration of political incorrectness. The College of Crustaceans meets in secret behind closed doors, without benefit of all-parish meetings, mailed surveys, or any comprehensive strategic plan at all. The College cobbers together some outrageous, sometimes humorous observations of parishioner behavior, throws a crab, corn and watermelon bash, and you come to gorge, laugh, boo, hiss, and generally have a raucous outing. As capricious as we are, we try to adhere to a standard or two. Basically this is not a roast, but a toast to people who wittingly or unwittingly stand out from the crowd by their actions or statements. As always, we offer our nominations without explanation or apologies. Our nominations for 2003 are:

Our “Shane, Shane, come back” nomination goes to those active, creative and committed members who withdrew from St. Mark’s when their favorite programs were not exempted from budget cuts.

In a similar vein, we give our “Fickle Finger” nomination to those who kvetch and moan about program cuts, but don’t pledge.

Then there are those inveterate email users who seem to have gobs of time during the workday to respond to every subject under the sun, usually at length, and then clog up our incoming mailboxes. They get our “Cyber Gabber Crab” nomination.

There are others, well known, whose email screeds are right up there with Bill Dannenmaier, our St.-Mark’s-in-Austria expat, who receives our “Brevity is the Soul of Wit” nomination for his lengthy, often nostalgic, discourses from afar on St. Mark’s, theology, and how good it was.

Moving on to governance, some years ago we nominated the Sign Committee for their endless deliberations about signage for St. Mark’s. To their credit they never quit. This year our Alzheimer nomination goes to the entire Vestry which, forgetting that a Sign Committee already existed, appointed a whole new one.

Former Senior Warden George Meng receives our Ghenghis Khan Diplomacy nomination for his statement that he couldn’t get rid of the new sign committee because they had already done some work. But, George! The old one . . .

We grant our “I feel your pain” nomination to Leslie Allen, for her passionate declaration that the limited number of paid baby sitters at Shrinemont showed how little we cared for children, . . . or was it parents? Jane Reilly Jacobson gets an honorable mention in this category.

We have a posthumous nomination in the “Oh come, let us worship and fall down” category, which goes to T. Buckler Ghequier, the architect of St. Mark’s, for his contribution to the current cascade of masonry from the tower.

In the “Emergent Crab” category, we nominate Michael Knipe, for his inspired, charismatic, and riveting Vestry nomination speech on St. Mark’s budget issues, his grousing on the Outreach and Hospitality Committees, and, we trust, in the forthcoming Every Member Canvass.

Not to be outdone, Rosemary Harold’s leadership inspired a 4,000-cookie response for the Capitol Hill House Tour. Two hundred people visited us, leaving 3,700 cookies, more or less, that are now in the freezer or on your dessert plates today. In Operation-Chane,-Chane,-Come-Back, the College will seek the Bishop’s dispensation to substitute cookies for bread at Communion. Rosemary gets our “Cookies for Christ” nomination.

Johnna Reeder gets our “Energizer Bunny” nomination as a Beadle, member in perpetuity of the Shrinemont/Comfort team, Acting President of the St. Mark’s Players, and just about anything else. We do miss the coconuts and hula skirt, Johnna.

Our “Dissing da Crab” nomination goes jointly to Stan Smith and Jennifer Dalzell for scheduling a Crib-to-College meeting during today’s Crab Feast. The College does not condone competition.

For his special mite box fund raising for Outreach after the Every Member Canvass and admonition to the idiots who took mite boxes home and didn’t return them, we give Jack Burton our “After Bite” nomination.

Speaking of laboring, our nominations would not be complete without mentioning Rick Rutherford, Dee Hahn Rollins and Don Ellison, leaders of the Strategic Plan effort, for their apparently open secretive process. Who do they think they are? The College of Crustaceans? They get our “Opaque Openness” nomination.

For her vegetarian menu for the Maundy Thursday dinner we give Kristen Hartke our “Tofu Crab” nomination with the College’s admonition that we did not rise to the top of the food chain to be vegetarians.

Our “What can we say” nomination goes to Karen Byrne, who would appear to abandon home, family, church and law practice to attend Union Seminary, a non-Episcopalian seminary. Oy, veh!

To the St. Mark's Reading Group, founded by Linda Edwald, Jane Michael and Pamela Blumgart, goes our "And All the Children are Above Average" nomination for selecting a year's worth of books featuring precocious children and adolescents. Are they trying to tell the rest of us something?

In the Professional Christian category we nominate Stephanie Nagley as she becomes Rector of St. Luke’s Church. For leaving her old shell behind and growing a new one, we name her our “Molting Crab” and trust that she will develop a hard shell soon.

And our “Anticipatory Crab” nomination goes to Paul Abernathy as he deals with the frustrations of running the church alone again, and training Stephanie’s successor.

And now, the moment that you have been waiting for. The envelope please.

This year’s Crab of the Year is a relatively new member of St. Mark’s who has demonstrated a high and sustained level of crabbiness over the past year, whether witting or not. Born under the sign of the Crab, our Crab has persistently groused at the Outreach Board about the use of limited funds, is generally opposed to partying as co-chair of the Hospitality Committee, and Lord knows what will happen when our Crab is a member of this year’s Canvass Committee, but we have high expectations. With round horn rimmed glasses, dark hair, a serious, boyish look, our Crab reminds one of Harry Potter, one of whom you would not expect crabbiness on first impression. After he made his inspirational Vestry nomination speech on budget issues, a long-time parishioner asked, “And just where did you think that is going to get you?” We ask the same thing now as we name

Michael Knipe
Crab of the Year for 2003