Pictures, by request.

These pictures were requested by a few people after reading my previous post. Pictures circa my rockabilly days.

This one is from the fall of 2004

This is a closer view of how the top looked, and an example of how big it was

Finally, this is one of the last known pictures taken. It was just grown out from having the top dyed black and the sides bleach blonde

On really hot days I didn't want the pomade to melt and run down into my face (which is did anyway), so I would stick my head in the freezer for a little bit before walking out the door. 

Enjoy!

It Don't Mean A Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing (doowop x4)

My senior year in high school through my freshman year in college I was a card-carrying, t-shirt-wearing member of the San Antonio Swing Dance Society (SASDS). Weekly, I went to group swing dance lessons taught by SASDS at one of the universities in San Antonio, and most mondays I went to Sam's Burger Joint for their weekly swing/ rockabilly night.

You see, I was a bit into the style and music of generations that far preceded the decade I was living in, and towards the end of my junior year in high school I began to embrace my fondness for the 'greaser' and swing culture. I wore Converse All-Stars with my Levi's 505's rolled up a few inches, styled my hair in a pompadour (if you're not familiar, think Grease, or Crybaby) using Murray's Superior pomade, carried a comb in my back pocket, and, when weather permitted wore a leather biker jacket or a Dickies work jacket. Plain white t-shirts were my thing, and since I didn't smoke I toyed with the idea of rolling up a pack of gum in my sleeve rather than a box of cigarettes (this, I decided, would be a ridiculous idea). To prom I wore a pinstripe suit with spectator (wing-tip, two-tone) shoes.

This is no lie.

In college, however, I realized that throughout high school and even into college I defined myself too much by the clothes I wore, the music I listened to, and the people I hung out with. I defined myself as a 'punk' because I hung out with the punks and listened to punk music. Later I defined myself as a 'greaser' for the very same reasons. None of this, I don't feel, is too intrinsically wrong, but it often leads to, I found, being too exclusive in the type of people I associated with (a topic I kind of touched on two posts back). So, towards the end of my firs year in college I gave much of this up; I cut off my beautiful hair, stopped going to shows, and started wearing whatever I felt to be  comfortable. It was very freeing. But I'm not going to lie- many of my favorite memories from those years were hanging out with my friends at punk shows, dancing at rockabilly shows, and the attention I got from old women when they saw my hair and stopped me in public to examine and ask questions about it.

Since then, it has been years since I have gone swing dancing on any sort of consistent basis, but the I still get the urge every so often to cut a rug. This past week was one of those weeks.

Thursday night I rounded up some friends to go out to the Green Mill Cocktail Lounge. It is the oldest Jazz club in Chicago, and used to be the stomping grounds of one  Al Capone. Every Thursday night the Green Mill features an 18-piece big band, and, though the dance floor is small (I mean, really small), people are not hesitant to get out there and start dancing. So, for the first time in close to two years I got to get out there and boned-up on my Jitterbug.

Dang, I need to get out there and do it more often. Though I do not care to bring back my rockabilly image/attempted lifestyle (it just takes too much time and energy to try to impress people with your hair and clothes), I definitely think I need to get back into dancing more regularly.

So today I am making vow- at least one Thursday night a month I will be found at the Green Mill. Whether by myself or accompanied by friends, I will be there, remembering the good 'ol days and creating my own sense of a swing-revival in my heart.

Duke Ellington had it right in 1931 when he sang that 'it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing'.

True Story.

Encounters with Customers | Encounters with Silence

People love coffee. They start out thinking they can drink it here and there when in need of a boost of caffeine, but before they know they find themselves crazing a delicious hot coffee beverage multiple times a week. When one lives or works close to a coffee shop this habit becomes more convenient, thus allowing a person to stop by their favorite (or at least the nearest) shop on a daily basis. As someone who has worked in coffee shops for the past 4.5 years, I'm OK with this. It allows me the opportunity to make small talk with customers who through the weeks and months become people that I am able to get to know on a somewhat personal basis, while at the same time giving me an opportunity here and there to share a bit about myself- where I'm from, what I'm studying, what I'm going to do when I get off work, etc.

When I began being involved with various ministries or churches it seemed to always come up at work that not only was I a Christian, but that I was also hoping to be a pastor one day (the reaction I get sometimes looks like the person is thinking, "you mean you're not going to work here forever?" No. I'm not- hard to make a living that way). The reactions I would get from people were anything from, "oh cool, I'm a pastor too," to, "That's dumb, I don't believe in God, and here's why: *continuous rumbling and grumbling*: so there". So, when I moved to the city from the suburbs and transfered to a Caribou in Boystown, a neighborhood in Chicago that is centered on the LGBT life I knew it would be interesting to see what response I would get when these questions arose, assuming that I would get just as wide a range of responses as before. And sure enough, within just a few shifts of working there I was outed.

One interaction, in particular, has stood out to me, as this customer I have now had continuous interactions with- he has become one of my favorite customers that comes in, and I am always eager to hold a conversation with him. Our first conversation happened during an abnormally short weeknight closing shift. He came up to me and asked if I was bored (which I was), and if I was looking forward to the weekend (which I was), and he asked what I do when I am not at work. I told him grad school (this is normally the response when people ask what I do, as most people don't know what 'seminary' is, or they assume that I'm going to become a priest, which leads them to ask what I think about never being married), and that I serve at my church on Sundays.

That's right, I came out to him.

-Church? he asked me.
-Yes, I say.
-What are you studying in school? he asked me.
-I'm in Seminary, I tell him, studying the Bible.
-Ohhh, hmm. *small silence* Can I ask you a question? he asks.
-Sure, I say, go for it.
-How do you reconcile your faith and your sexuality?
-Ha, I smirk, well I'm straight, so I don't really need to reconcile the two.
-Oh, ok. I just assumed, you know, since you work in this neighborhood.
-I understand, I tell him, I assume the same thing.
-Then can I ask you another question? Why are you working here if you're straight, and you're a christian?

There it was- the question that I debated how I would answer when it was asked, because I knew it would be eventually. So, I originally planned on telling people that it was the closest Caribou to where I was living so it made sense to transfer there, which, is partially true. But instead I told him the real reason why I wanted to work there, and why I was looking forward to it.

You see, I believe there is too much unnecessary hatred between the faith community and the gay community. I think much of this is built off of misunderstandings and presuppositions of each other, but I think that much of it has to do with how the topic of homosexuality has been approached (or, rather how it has been sidestepped) in the Church. It seems as though, to many Christians, homosexuality is the sin above all sins- the worst of the worst- and that the only way to have any sort of interaction with them is to hold up signs that say "God Hates Fags", hoping that through this method of 'evangelism' a light bulb will suddenly go off in their heads that leads them to think, "oh, maybe I should be straight after all, these people are so right". My hope as a Christian working in Boystown, then, is not to 'evangelize' and try to convert as many gays as possible, but rather to bridge the gap between the faith and the gay communities, to grow in my own awareness about the LGBT culture and lifestyle, and to do my best to represent Christ in this community, and to live in a way that I feel He has called me to live; a life based on love and reconciliation, not hate and judgement; a life that seeks to love God, and love others to the best of my ability (this is the most important commandment after all, isn't it?)

That is what I told the customer that night. Well, not in those exact words, but we held a conversation that covered those topics, and that expressed my heart towards reconciling the two communities. And this led to more conversations throughout the next few weeks. All positive one, where he was eager to hear about what I was learning in my classes, what I hoped to learn throughout the rest of my degree, and how I hoped to put it to use. It is always very encouraging to talk to this customer because even though I don't believe that he holds the same set of values and beliefs that I do, he is interested in hearing what I do believe in, and though I don't believe I hold the same values and beliefs that he does, I am eager and interested in hearing what he has to say.

Last night when I was working he came in, and as usual we had a small conversation conversation catching up with each other about our weekends, and after I served him his coffee he said he had something for me. It's a small old book by a Catholic theologian from Germany named Karl Rahner. I don't know anything at all about this theologian, but I decided to look him up later. The book is called Encounters with Silence, and is basically about prayer and encountering the different aspects of God through prayer. He said that he read it a long time ago, and that he wanted to read it again, but that he wanted me to read it first so that we can talk about it and how it applies to our lives. I have no idea what this is going to look like, but I am super pumped about the opportunity to be able to read through this book and discuss it with him.

I already read the first two chapters, and there is a prayer at the end of the second chapter, which is called "God of my Lord Jesus Christ", that stood out to me as I read it before class this morning that I want to leave you with:

Grant, O Infinite Got, that I may ever cling fast to Jesus Christ, my Lord. Let His heart reveal to me how You are disposed toward me. I shall look upon His heart when I desire to know Who You are. The eye of my mind is blinded whenever it looks only at Your Infinity, in which You are totally present in each and every aspect at once...But I have still one more request. make my heart like that of Your Son. Make it as great and rich in love as His so that my brothers- or at least some of them, sometime in my life- can enter through this door and there learn that You love him. God of Our Lord Jesus Christ, let me find You in His heart. (Encounters with Silence, p17)




It's all about love.

Saturday "Reading"

I'm sitting in my apartment on campus right now, the sun is shining brightly in my window, but I am not going to let it fool me into thinking that it's a nice day to go and spend time outside. Instead, I am sitting on my couch with a book I am reading for school, "The Story of Christianity," sitting open on my lap while I am reading other people's blogs instead.

Reading blogs isn't going to help me prepare for my Christian Heritage class on Monday, but I am doing it anyway, because I'm an adult and I can. I just read a post  on a fellow NPTS student's blog about the ignorance of some people, christians particularly, toward gender roles, sexuality, and what the working definition of what it means to be a "real man" is in todays society, and it led me to think about my own ignorance about topics like this. For much of my life I had lacked experience with different cultures and people groups that I am now interacting on a weekly, if not daily basis. And I was thinking about how often I stereotype or judge different people based on external appearance- the clothes they wear, the music they listen to, the cars they drive, the things they have to say- and i absolutely hate that about myself. 

I hate that I judge people so much. I hate that I typecast people. I hate that I am hesitant to get to know certain people or spend time with certain people because I think I already know exactly what they are going to be like. I'm sure I have missed out on having the pleasure of being friends with so many quality people because I thought myself to be too important to interact with them. 

As I was thinking about this, the bells from the Chapel at North Park started doing their hourly ringing (which I never even noticed they did until last week, maybe it's not hourly but daily?), and they started playing the hymn How Great Thou Art. That song is flipping beautiful, but hearing it at that moment made me think about how the God that I believe in and worship and serve is the same God to all of the people that I judge, and stereotype, and avoid, and think that I am better than. At times I"m singing, 'how great thou art', but what my heart may be singing is 'how great i am'. 

Wow- sometimes I just get it completely wrong. 

Compliments and Encouragement

One of the best compliments I ever received from anyone was that they found me "marvelously interesting".

The person that I received this compliment from is a friend of mine that I met while working at Caribou Coffee in the Chicago suburbs whose name is Tom. I met Tom as I met just about any other customer that came into the store- he brought in his book and laptop, ordered a cup of coffee, then sat down to read and write. One day while it was slow I began a conversation with Tom about what he was reading and writing, and from there we had a series of other conversations allowing me to get to know more about him as well as meeting and getting to know his partner Mark.

When I transfered to a Caribou in the city, these two friends of mine began making journeys down every once in a while to pop in and surprise me. When I told them about different ideas and such that I had running around in my head, what I was learning about in school and how I was hoping to apply it to my life, and how I used to write and blog a little bit, the two of them encouraged me to start doing so again.

So here I am. I started a new blog, as I am in a new part of my journey in life. I hope to write in here somewhat regularly about different adventures, life lessons, school lessons, or whatever it may be that I have going on in my life. And I hope that in some way, through writing, pictures, or stories that I post, others may find me marvelously (or even just slightly) interesting as well.


If not, your loss.