August 29th, 2003


This would have been a more appropriate post for yesterday, but I guess we all have to deal with disappointment in our lives, so there you go.

It was Dave & Angie’s anniversary (9, I think). Big day. In honor of it, here’s a story kind of about Dave.

In the summer of 1993, I traveled on a singing/drama group for Maranatha. There were 3 guys – Dave, Caleb, and myself – and four girls – Betty, Kerry, Hope, and Miss Senn. We generally stayed at people’s houses after a concert, and more often than not, one family might take 2 guys and another family would take the leftover guy. We worked out a rotation so one night it might be Caleb & I at a house, the next night Dave & I, and the next night Caleb & Dave.

I learned pretty quickly that, on the nights I stayed with Dave, if I didn’t do a “run-through” before we left a house, he wouldn’t have anything left by the end of the 12-week tour. I’d generally find a shirt, a razor, a shoe – something. Dave’s a creative type, so it was always assumed something was on his mind and he couldn’t be bothered with petty details like making sure he was completely dressed.

Well, one night we were at a church in Illinois and Dave and I stayed with Pastor Jerry Silver and his family. I recall we had a pretty good time at their house – we played a little Sonic the Hedgehog 2 with his son and then played Rook with his two daughters. I remember staying up later than we should have.

In the morning, as we were getting ready to leave, I did my customary run-through. Sure enough, I found Dave’s travel-sized shaving cream in the shower. Normally I would take the found item to Dave and say, “Here, pack this, too,” or some such thing, but I was feeling cantankerous, so I didn’t say anything. I was going to bring it up when he realized he had left it, or at the moment I felt it would be funniest to bring it up.

We drove to the next church that day (usually a few hours away, but it’s been long enough ago that I don’t remember), and when we got there, I said to Dave, “Hey, did you forget something back at the house?” “No,” he says. “Yeah?” I say, “Not even your shaving cream?” “Nope. I’ve got it right in my bag,” he says.

“Umm, what?” I say.

Turns out, he did have his shaving cream. The identical can of shaving cream (Edge Gel, if I recall correctly) that I had grabbed belonged to Pastor Silver.

How embarrassing.

So I called Pastor Silver and explained the situation and apologized profusely. He acted angry for about two seconds and then laughed about it. He went on to tell me that he got cases of that particular shaving cream for either nothing or practically nothing and that I shouldn’t worry about it.

So it all turned out okay, but I learned a valuable lesson that will always stay with me:

Well, actually, I didn’t really learn any lessons, but it’s a funny story to remember.

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