Old Man, Casanova

So there we were. Just the two of us sitting on a bench at Kerry Park. The view of the entire city of Seattle and the Puget Sound was before us like a painting laid out across a museum's wall. We had walked the mile and a half to watch the sun set behind us and reflect off of the Space Needle and the city's water.

There is a motor scooter.

I can't really tell where it is coming from, but I know it's approaching us. I turn my attention away from her to see if we would get in a small fender bender. Scooter. Approaching us is a somewhat overweight older man wearing an over-sized bass fishing shirt. His hat is cocked above his head to the left and his large glasses take up close to three fourths of his face. The cigarette is dangling from his mouth...I swear it is going to fall out...catch it...

He stops.

Ok, look at him. Ah ha.

"Hello dere," he says. Watch the cigarette.

"Hi," we say simultaneously. His gaze turns toward her.

"Well then. What's such a fine lady like yourself doing with such an ugly brat like him." His chuckle takes more energy than it should. Watch that damn cigarette. Before we had time to respond I began laughing uncontrollably, as I often do in circumstances that complete my existence. His exit was the most excellent part of our engagement. He sort of looked around smiling, as though he had won her over. He had though...he really had, that Casanova.

You must understand that I think I have actually prayed about this moment before. I have often thought about being old and the super powers you get. He used his unmatchable superpower of offending anyone younger than him. I mean, you sit there reading this thinking that you would have said something witty, but you really wouldn't...no, you wouldn't.

Because I had a couple remarks in my holster as I have been waiting to be offended by an old person for quite some time. But I can't actually say anything. What am I to say?

"Oh yea, I ask myself that a lot, she does deserve a man on a scooter with maybe 5 years left."

"Yea, I know, she's always wanted me to pick up the whole smoking while scootering thing...I'm just not man enough. I don't got it in me."

"Old man, don't even start with me. She's mine!"

"Alright that's it. You. Me. No scooters - it's GO TIME BITCH!"

But you can't say anything. You can't even do anything. The guy is old, c'mon. Anyone with half a heart isn't going to say anything. The guy is out for a freaking walk...or, scooter. But nonetheless, I can't insult him, all I can do is rejoice in the completion of something I've been waiting for for way too long. God Bless America.

A Bunch of Lemmings

My dorm room sits under a small ledge by a parking lot. Across the parking lot there is an enormous knoll. The hill cascades up at a respectfully steep rate, leaving the hike up and down to be quite difficult - rain or shine.

Today was one of the first sunny days in a while. Perfect, I might say. It was about 63 degrees and the sun was shining brightly outside of the clouds. A small breeze blew the shade from the trees across the plush green grass. Beautiful day.

Naturally, college students just flock to this grassy knoll to sit and read, or perhaps poorly play Jack Johnson on their $250 guitar. Maybe they will toss the frisbee or kick a soccer ball. In the late afternoon there were about 25 collegiates out there. As dinner time rolled around (about 6pm), all - and I really mean all of them - simultaneously packed up their guitars and threw on their flip flops as if mom rang the "come and get it!" bell. I had the ultimate pleasure of watching all 25 or so slowly make their way down the steep slope. The greatest satisfaction of this event was that they had no idea that the rain from the day before was still making its way down the hill and into the parking lot. The hill was quite damp, to say the least.

One by one, and in a systematic fashion, men and women alike began to fall on their asses. Like a bunch of lemmings the students were falling down the hill, not learning from their peers falling around them. First the girl in the sunglasses and blue top eats it hard, then the bro in the trucker hat is taken out while his friends giggle. But I would have to say the best was the hat trick: three girls holding hands while walking down the hill all took grass to the ass. The center female slipped causing a chain reaction to hit her supporters. All three fell right on their caboose, and while after falling on her butt, one toppled over on her stomach loosing her sunglasses and small satchel.

In all seriousness I truly think I saw 12 individuals bite dirt on that small but steep incline. I'm sure some of those students could tell me all about first century philosophy or George Washington's opinions on strategic neutrality, but for all the knowledge we pretend to attain and for all the intellect we believe we foster, we're still a bunch of animals.

A Couple of Things

Let me be honest, I have never enjoyed the word, "things," but it is really all I have for what I was trying to get across. Right then. Here are some happenings in my world and perhaps a piece of yours.

1) April is Jazz History Month! So keep doing what you always do!

2) "Hot Fuzz" is the new movie from those dudes who did "Shaun of the Dead." This one is remarkable and perhaps one of the funnier movies I've ever seen...ever....

3) The Second Earl of Rochester could be the most disgusting men in all of English history. He's at least on the top 10. Right next to Judi Dench...

4) Greek Orthodox Church service tomorrow. I have no comments on this, nor feel like I need them.

5) The NBA playoffs are on and they are a pleasure to watch.

6) Yesterday we were walking downtown and there were at least five people holding signs in hopes that they would either get weed, or score money for some hash from aimless pedestrians or tourists. Happy 4/20...and make sure the kids get some, for the sake of our future.

7) I can't wait to see what I get for Earth Day!!!!

So all I really wanted to tell you about was that it was Jazz Month, but then I just kept going. Alrighty then, don't light your houses on fire, and see you soon.

For Your Namesake

I am a Christian. I do not ascribe to a religion or list of rules or sayings. I live my life by, for, and in a person: Jesus Christ.

I wish there was some way where I could tell every person who has had some sort of scar from Christianity in the past, that it wasn’t God or Jesus that hurt them, but that it was man. It was the Priest who raped the child, the pastor who excommunicated the lesbian, and the preacher who told you that you weren’t good enough. These are not Jesus’ words. You want Jesus’ words? These are the Red Letters:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me – watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything ill fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely…”
(Matthew 11:28-30 MSG)

Jesus Christ never called us to a set of rules. He calls us to Him. “Follow me,” he says, “Keep company with me,” he says again. Jesus doesn’t just know the truth or possess it like many other religious figures claim, Christ is the truth. He embodies it. And the truth is, while humanity has screwed up so much in His name, Christ still stands tall and mighty.

The Gospel is good news, not news of hell and fire. The difference between Christ and anything else out there in the “religion world” is this: Redemption vs. Religion. Religion gives a guideline, a book or creed that you must live by or else God hates you. Christ is Redemption and this means God loves you. Period. You’ve done wrong. Hell, who hasn’t? But don’t you think the Creator of the world knows that? Don’t you think if he created the world, that he knows and already knew that his creation would choose to do bad things? That’s exactly why he sent Jesus Christ. When Christ died on the cross his last words were, “It is finished.” Religion says you have work to do, and if you aren’t doing that work, God will hate you. Memorize this, give all that, preach till you are soar, then God will love you. God says, “It is finished. I have always loved you, and will always love you. Accept with faith, and My Grace will cover those things you have done and will do.”

April Fools

I approached her slowly, because I was so nervous. You would be too, so don't get all righteous about it. This situation was as tense as a trip to the bathroom that lasts longer than 12 minutes.
"Excuse me, Ma'am?" I say with caution.
"Yes?" she replies calmly. Oh man she's kindhearted, gentle. I wouldn't slap this woman for a million bucks...well, maybe a million, but still, she's freaking kindhearted; I can tell by her eyes.
"Do you own a black Labrador?"
"I do, yes."
"Oh, wow...um....shoot. I, um,...I...hit it with my truck..."
"Oh God!"
"Yeah, it was crossing Borland and I was changing my iPod from this soft India Arie song to something more appropriate for the weather conditions and my mood when I totally rammed into your dog...I'm so... sorry..."
"Oh no! She's dead?! She can't be! No! No!"
"Yeah, and...um, well, after I hit it, my adrenaline was pumping at full and I wanted to destroy any possible evidence...so..."
"So what?!"
"Well."
"?"
"I ate her."
"You...ate....her?!"
"Did I stutter? I ate your Labrador! I'm sorry, my bodily instincts took over, believe me I didn't like it, I felt like an animal!...I mean, I can't even believe that I actually did it...it was so intense...I...I don't know what to say..."
She started crying deeply, her hurt was in her chest, the woman was weeping. Pull the plug this has gone way too far.
"April Fools!"
"What?"
"April Fools! It's April 1st, and I didn't eat your dog ma'am....haha, oh wow that was a hoot!"
"Oh tha---"
"But I did hit it with my truck."
"-"
"It's dead. But at least I didn't eat her huh? Huh? Yeah? Yeah, at least I didn’t eat her"