This neighborhood is a closed obstacle course
And we are the drivers
We spin the steering wheel
And take our chances
We miss the
Thug crossing the street in traffic
Cadillac with no brake lights
Young mother with a stroller walking between parked cars
We pass the
Children at the bus stop
Teenage prostitute
Drug deal in progress
A siren inquires for respect
And we pull over
The police car flashes by
On its way to somewhere else
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Friendly Service
I spent the entire day as a quarterback – throwing and running.
This is a metaphor. I am not an athlete. So replace “a quarterback” with “sick”, add “up” after “throwing” and “a fever” after “running.”
By 6:30pm I decided bed was a good decision. Then I remembered: Wednesday is young adult bible study, held in our living room. COMPANY! Though intoxicated with illness, I was compelled to clean.
Let me explain this compulsion. It’s more Nurse Ratched than Florence Nightingale. More about control than service. My roommate Kevin knows and tries not to do anything dirty while I’m looking.
I cleaned only the bathroom and went to bed.
At 8:00pm I woke up and marveled at how quiet it was. Maybe they’re studying Psalm 23, I thought.
At 10:00pm I got up to use the bathroom and found Kevin in the kitchen washing dishes.
“You guys were quiet,” I said. He smiled, and even though my head was filled with cream of brain soup, I understood. “Did you have bible study downstairs?” I asked.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he admitted, as if annoyed his smile gave him away. “I figured if you were trying to sleep we shouldn’t make all that noise.”
“Thank you,” I said, almost tearfully, as if accepting an award, and then, “I’m going to the bathroom. And then I’m going to bed.”
As I woke up the next morning I remembered a few weeks ago when I had friends in my room while Kevin was leading bible study in the living room. We were loud and didn’t leave. He never said a word.
This is a metaphor. I am not an athlete. So replace “a quarterback” with “sick”, add “up” after “throwing” and “a fever” after “running.”
By 6:30pm I decided bed was a good decision. Then I remembered: Wednesday is young adult bible study, held in our living room. COMPANY! Though intoxicated with illness, I was compelled to clean.
Let me explain this compulsion. It’s more Nurse Ratched than Florence Nightingale. More about control than service. My roommate Kevin knows and tries not to do anything dirty while I’m looking.
I cleaned only the bathroom and went to bed.
At 8:00pm I woke up and marveled at how quiet it was. Maybe they’re studying Psalm 23, I thought.
At 10:00pm I got up to use the bathroom and found Kevin in the kitchen washing dishes.
“You guys were quiet,” I said. He smiled, and even though my head was filled with cream of brain soup, I understood. “Did you have bible study downstairs?” I asked.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he admitted, as if annoyed his smile gave him away. “I figured if you were trying to sleep we shouldn’t make all that noise.”
“Thank you,” I said, almost tearfully, as if accepting an award, and then, “I’m going to the bathroom. And then I’m going to bed.”
As I woke up the next morning I remembered a few weeks ago when I had friends in my room while Kevin was leading bible study in the living room. We were loud and didn’t leave. He never said a word.
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