After a month of build up involving ghouls, horrors on film and frights, the passing of October's last eve leads us to the inverse of all that spooky stuff: All Saints Day.
The problem is, outside of very religious circles, no one really celebrates it. So, along with traditional churches honoring their saints, it seemed appropriate to do the same here on this Feast of All Hallows.
Patrick has his own holiday dedicated to liberating his country from snakes, wearing green, and drinking beer, so there's no need to honor him on this day. Nicolaus, too. And the most famous saints like Peter, Paul, John, and Thomas have plenty of recognition with churches, schools, and other dedications to them, so I'll exclude them as well. And St. Joan of Arc is a national hero—she's gotten her posthumous dues.
With this posting, I'd like to give shouts out not to little known or unusual saints, but rather those we maybe haven't honored lately, and certainly should never forget.
For starters, there is The Saint, as played by Val Kilmer—at least in the remake. It's a flawed but enjoyable enough film starring the Iceman, which I honestly can't recall much about, but it had the Iceman, and he's a saint for all he's had to endure lately. It was also one of the last big roles for Elizabeth Shue, who went under the radar a while herself before resurfacing recently with a couple of great appearances.
Georges St.-Pierre was not only a joy to watch in the Octagon, but also fun in some Marvel features before they wasted the character with a silly plot twist. GSP deserved better.
I haven't spent much time in St. Louis, so I can't say much about it other than they always have an annoyingly consistent baseball team whose name also has religious connotations. But the best Saint place to visit to me is St. Augustine, where Florida's First Coast and the nation's oldest city offers the best beaches and lots of great history, tourist destinations and seafood. Just don't let the word out so it doesn't get too crowded.
For those old enough to remember St. Elsewhere, it is probably the patron saint of show endings, though Bob Newhart, the patron saint of comedic actors, might consider that dogmatic.
Yves Saint Laurent. Holy fashion icon.
St. Elmo's Fire, you weren't admired by most critics, but you gave us a good soundtrack, and helped catapult the careers of a Brat Pack. Without you, we might not have The Mighty Ducks franchise (movie series and pro hockey team), a Parks and Rec standout, the Beast of B-Movies, the queen of 90s films, and... Andrew McCarthy.
And finally, there are the gridiron Saints. Drew Brees, Ricky Williams, and Morten Andersen are probably the best known players, but there is one who came before them all and is not just the canonized quarterback of football in the French Quarter, but also the patron saint of quarterbacking patriarchy—heck, you can't even spell that without his name. While never winning a Super Bowl as a member of the Ain'ts, he is responsible for four titles, thanks to his sons... with possible more legacies awaiting.
So for all the Saints out there, known and unknown, on this day, we salute you.
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