Conceived Without Sin
a funky idea. What about you? What do you think of the Catholic Church? Do you agree with your dad?" His tone was light.
    "Buzz, sorry toshatter your world, but I rarely even think about religion. I guess my dad is right, but I'm more interested in computers, my business, and getting on with my life."
    "You just gave a very Catholic answer."
    Sam gave Buzz a confused look.
    "It was based on direct reality–computers, business, your life."
    Sam bit into his cheeseburger.
    "I don't know about your concept of reality. What you're sayingis just words to me. Words aren't reality. If you're so into reality, how come you talk so much?"
    "How come you asked that word-filled question?"
    "You can't answer a question with a question, Buzz."
    "I just did. That's real." Buzz laughed.
    Sam didn't get the joke; when Buzz noticed this, he said, "Look, I've never met anybody who's gotten more than half the things that make me laugh, except formy ex-wife. Don't feel bad. I won't even explain why I found what I just said to be humorous. If you can live with that, it will help our friendship."
    "There you go again with that best-friend stuff. Are you gay or something, or trying to convert me?"
    "I'm not a homosexual. It's sad that your question is a reasonable one. No, I'm not that way. And I try to convert everybody, so I'm not treatingyou exceptionally in that sense, any more than I believe that God helps one quarterback win and his opponents lose. I just like to talk about weird stuff. The fact that you follow even some of it qualifies you to be my friend. You don't have to be."
    "Thank you, Buzz, for the permission to reject you as a friend," Sam said with mock solemnity.
    "You're certainly welcome. Live and let live. Yourreality is as valid as mine. What is truth–is it unchanging law? And what of truth–is mine the same as yours?"
    "Where's that from?" Sam asked. "Sounds familiar."
    "Jesus Christ Superstar, a decidedly un-Catholic musical, despite the subject matter."
    "Should I start calling you Pope Buzz? After all, you seem to be the judge of what's Catholic and what isn't."
    "Don't bother. I doubt the College ofCardinals would ever elect a divorced, alcoholic, cigarette-smoking, pompous jerk like me."
    "Now you're talking reality," Sam laughed.
    "You're going to make a great Catholic, someday, reality-wise, I mean," Buzz replied, not laughing so much as expressing his mirth with a smirk and a shake of his head.
    "There you go again. Look, I don't want to be converted. I like being an agnostic. No churchon Sundays. No moral codes. So on and so forth."
    "You haven't got a moral code? Do you steal?" Buzz asked, suddenly serious.
    "I don't steal. Bad for business. Stealing comes back and haunts you. I couldn't stay in business if I made a habit of ripping people off–"
    "So your personal moral code, for whatever reason you have it, precludes you from stealing. Why?"
    "Why? I don't know. Like I said,it's bad for business. And my father taught me not to steal," Sam replied somewhat sheepishly, wondering where this would go, a bit more aware that he was enjoying himself, the beer, the food–this strange guy. "What do you say to that, Pope Buzz?"
    "Where did your father get his moral code?"
    "From his parents…"
    "And they got it from their parents, or from somewhere else, like the culture, whichyour dad already said was based on Judeo-Christianity. You might be an agnostic–let's shorten that to aggie–but I bet we share a common moral code, except for sex. That's too much to hope for. Everybody in our generation believes in having maximum amounts of sex."
    "Actually, Buzz, I don't believe in sex until I get married, unless I really love the girl and plan to marry her–" Sam caught himselfsaying a very personal thing.
    "Really?" Buzz looked down at his plate. Something in Sam's voice had conveyed a level of discomfort. A heavy silence ensued.
    "Religion, sex–that only leaves politics, Sammy Boy. We'll run out of things to talk about
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