June 16th, 2006

My Date With Sheryl Crow

I had the chance to see Sheryl Crow in concert this past Monday, and I took it. She’s just now starting to get back into touring after having cancer surgery, and the show in Indianapolis was a rescheduled date from earlier this year.

It would be stupid to say I enjoyed the concert, I think. Who pays that much money to go to a concert they’re not sure they’ll like? Not me. I enjoyed it thoroughly.

But as I sat there, I got hit with a wave of “Man, I need to”s. As in:

  • Man, I need to learn how to play the guitar.
  • Man, I need to record my Snakes on a Plane song.
  • Man, I need to get that children’s book that’s in my head out on paper and find someone to illustrate it.
  • Man, I need to start that webcomic I’ve been thinking about.
  • Man, I need to get in shape.
  • Man, I need to do something.

There’s Sheryl up on stage, 44 years old, having the time of her life, and looking great.

Here’s me in my chair, 34 years old, trying to figure out my life, and looking tired.

Maybe Sheryl’s onto something:

Live it up, like there’s no time left
Just like there’s no tomorrow
Live it up, like there’s no time left
And there’s no time to kill
Live it up, like there’s no time left
And no time left to borrow
Why don’t you try to get it right this time
Get it right this time

June 12th, 2006

Bookends

Josh, Dave, and I have been talking about getting together for some time now. We haven’t seen each other in a long time and life keeps going, so you’ve got to make things happen. I’d seen Dave at Christmas, but I hadn’t seen Josh in probably four years. Josh lives in Michigan, Dave lives in Ohio, and I live in Indiana, so we looked for a place that was “somewhere in the middle” that we could maybe meet up for lunch some Saturday. The talking never gets past “Yeah, we should do that,” but it gets brought up every other month or so. Dave even went so far as to find a place that was “sorta” in the middle. When specific Saturdays were mentioned, though, it was always “I’m on a trip” or “I’m re-roofing the house” or some such nonsense. Josh has five kids, Dave has three, so that made some sort of difference, too, I guess.

This past Thursday, though, Dave said, “I’m free tomorrow night.” So was I. And, after a while, so was Josh. So the plan was made: meet at Welch’s Ribs in Sturgis, MI, at 7:00 p.m. Friday.

Remember when Dave said it was “sorta” in the middle? That apparently meant “mile-wise.” Time-wise their trips were a smidgen over two hours. Mine was three hours. Meh. No big deal, I guess. Dave got there first, I got there a little afterwards, and Josh was late. Slacker.

This is us:

Josh, Mark, & Dave

From left to right: Josh, me, and Dave.

They say that friends are people who know all about you but love you anyway. These are those friends for me. I’ve been friends with them for 20 years and known them even longer. They’ve been around me during all of my biggest mistakes and still love me. They’ve laughed with me, cried with me, preached at me, persuaded me, corrected me, and accepted me. If I haven’t talked to one of them in months, I can pick up the phone and we can pick up right where we left off. If I were to start listing memories I have about these two, we’d be here forever and you’d get bored – we’d be in stitches, but you’d be bored.

Everybody should have friends like Josh and Dave. I hope you do. I hope I’ve been 1/10th the friend to them that they’ve been to me. Thank you, Aundrea (Mrs. Josh) and Angela (Mrs. Dave), for not only letting them come but actually encouraging them to do so.

We left Welch’s a little after 11:00 on Friday after having talked about family, former friends, theology, surgery, movies, and all manner of other things. It was raining and hard to see on my way home, and I didn’t get back until 3:00 Saturday morning, dog-tired and feeling physically awful.

But you know what? I’d do it again. I hope we get the chance.

June 9th, 2006

Inukshuk

The airport in Halifax had one of those “buy stuff made in this area” stores in it, which worked out well for me since I was having “I’m leaving the country without anything to remember it with!” thoughts. They had shirts, throw rugs, painted shells, food – all the normal things stores like that have.

I picked up a couple of small things for gifts, but didn’t really see anything I wanted for myself. I was just about to leave the store when something caught my eye. It was a little statue made up of flat stones and it was labeled “Inukshuk.” I didn’t know what to make of it, but there was a sheet of paper with a description in the case with the statues. After I read it, I decided very much I wanted one of the little statues. When I asked the lady to get one for me I mentioned that what really did it for me was the printed description. She, being Canadian and therefore extra-nice, offered to run a photocopy of it for me. I thanked her, bought my statue, and headed for my gate.

Here is a picture of my Inukshuk and then the text of the description in the case:

Inukshuk

The Inukshuk, a construction of rocks configured to resemble the human form, has been used by the Inuit for thousands of years. Literally translated the word “Inukshuk” means “pretend person,” a useful construction in a land so sparsely populated.

In this vast and often lonely land, the Inukshuk has served many purposes for Arctic travellers. Constructed without arms, an Inukshuk traditionally indicated the territory of a family group. In the barren lands of the Arctic, an Inukshuk with one arm served as a guide for travellers, pointing them in the direction of the most favourable route. Some Inukshuk featured a peephole in the centre through which travellers could view the tiny dot of another distant Inukshuk.

Often, an Inukshuk indicated the presence of a food cache intended to sustain a traveller on the next leg of a journey, or the abundance of fish, caribou, muskoxen or other animals in the area. Always, the Inukshuk was a sign that, though it may have been thousands of years ago, another human being had been there before and survived. The Inukshuk is a timeless sign of the mortal, a part of the human continuum.

“Whenever I am around an Inukshuk, I am never afraid. I see the Inukshuk and know that it was built by people, and as a result, it will protect me from bad spirits.” – Inuit belief

While I don’t believe a statue will “protect me from bad spirits,” it particularly hit me that the Inukshuk was a sign that other people had been there before and had made it through. It reminded me that we all go through the same things because we’re all human.

King Solomon said it best “That which has been is what will be, That which is done is what will be done, And there is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which it may be said, ‘See, this is new’? It has already been in ancient times before us.”

The shame of it, though, is that even though we all go through similar problems and heartaches, we rarely talk to other people about them. We don’t feel like we can because it’s something too personal, too embarrassing. The exact help we need is in the people around us. It’s a two-way street: if someone comes to me, it’s my responsibilty to do what I can for them. Being shocked or not wanting to help or belittling their situation is a betrayal to our connection as humans.

Maybe this won’t seem all that great to you and you might even think it’s a little weird or funny that it struck me so much, but I like being reminded that, no matter what I’m going through, someone else has been there before, and they made it.

Somehow, that’s comforting.