Trappist Bars

This is, I guess, a glimpse into how my mind works and how I end up being a font of trivia. The beginning is a little odd, but it ends up very apropos of my last entry.

While listening to the Doors' song, LA Woman, I noticed the line that I always heard as "trappist bars." This has always seemed unlikely as trappists are members of an order (sect?) "wholly ordered to contemplation," in the tradition of St. Benedict.

Rather than continue studying, I felt it necessary to determine the true lyric, which turned out to be "Cops in cars, the topless bars / Never saw a woman... / So alone, so alone." So, I was right, there are no trappist bars, either in reality or in the fertile imagination of Jim Morrison. My curiosity was not quite sated, and I was shortly looking at www.trappist.net, which had a link to the daily reading from St. Benedict's Rule which, for August 15, is:

Chapter 61: How Pilgrim Monks Are To Be Received

If a pilgrim monastic coming from a distant region
wants to live as a guest of the monastery,
let her be received for as long a time as she desires,
provided she is content
with the customs of the place as she finds them
and does not disturb the monastery by superfluous demands,
but is simply content with what she finds.
[more deleted]

While I'm neither a "pilgrim monastic" or a "her," I was amused to stumble on this, especially in light of my current situation. I will try to remember this and "be content with the customs ... as [I find] them" etc. Hopefully next time I write to this travel journal, I'll actually be traveling.