Diablevert

It's saying this kind of thing that makes me a disappointment to my mother

So the other day I was wathing a little TV and there was a special about this priest, well-known figure in Ireland for many years, had a show on RTE, sang showtunes, MC'd the Pope's visit in '79, etc. Father Michael Cleary. He died in 1993, and it comes out after he died that he had two kids with his housekeeper. He forced her to give up the first son for adoption, but when the second came along she demanded to keep the baby. She and the kid lived with him, and everyone maintained the polite fiction. And the special was all about this. This show was the fisrt time the younger son had spoken publically about the thing, though the mother had written a tell-all a couple years after the priest died. It was interesting, you know. The scandal was one of several that emerged in the early 90s that were nails in the coffin of Church dominence in Ireland.

But that wasn't really why I watched it.

I watched it for the son. He was smokin'. In addition to be articulate and charismatic and so foth. Came off really well. And he was really, really hot. In the clips from '93, he was a teenager, and had that sort of floppy-haired, slit-eyed, slightly greasy look of a young Leonardo di Caprio, or maybe an errant Backtreet Boy. But he filled out and cleaned up nice in the years since. In fact, he inspired me to a new definition of hotness.

He was priest's bastard hot.