Hands at 10 and 2

In a span of 10 minutes yesterday, four interesting things happened. Three of them happened in the car on the way to work:

1. A blue coupe spun out on a six-lane merged highway two miles from my office. It was about 200 feet in front of me and two lanes over, right in front of an 18-wheeler. Somehow the guy spun back and forth across almost all lanes of traffic and avoided every other vehicle, finally slamming into the median and stopping. He didn't appear to be injured.
2. I exit off the highway two minutes later and stop at a red light. There's a late-model white Lexus in front of me. The driver opens the door, leans out and hawks a nice loogie into the street. Nice. I've seen this before, and have written about it here.
3. The light turns green, and we all go through the intersection. The white pickup truck in front of me proceeds to run into the curb. Twice. And he's not turning. Either he's drunk, inattentive, on the cell phone, or he's just a baaaad driver. This is when I consider just turning around and going home.
4. I eventually reach the parking garage safely and walk to the office building. Twenty feet from the door, I suddenly get a shower of water on my head. Huh? It's not raining anywhere else... just on me. I look up and see window washers on the seventh floor, working their squeegees feverishly. The wind blows their soapy water off the windows, down 50 feet and right on top of my head.

In other car-related news, Jamie took the kids to her grandfather's house last week for one night. This means one night of totally free guy-time for me... what to do? Strange as it may sound, I took a drive.

Before the days of long commutes and bumper-to-bumper traffic, driving was a soothing activity for me. More on that in a minute.

When I left the garage on my night alone I wasn't sure what the destination was. Soon enough, though, I found myself near the last apartment we lived in, right around the time of Samantha's birth. I decided to go ahead and drive by there and think about how much has changed. Then I drove to the apartment before that, when we were DINKS (Dual-Income, No Kids). Then the office building of my last job. With no traffic on the road, I hit almost all my family's important Houston locations from the past eight years. And it only took an hour.

The most impactful part of the drive was the realizaton that I wouldn't trade places with any of those past times. I like where we are. I like who I am. I love my family of four. That's a good way to start the New Year.

Now for that story about driving as therapy...

I think I was about 20 years old, on Christmas break from college and back home in Kansas City. I decided to take a drive out to one the baseball fields I played on as a teenager, just to sit and listen to music. This was my version of a safe, relaxing and inexpensive outing.

After sitting in the empty parking lot facing the field for about fifteen minutes, I noticed another car pull into the parking lot. It was a police car. No lights or sirens, but he parked behind me and just sat there. I stayed in my seat and tried not to make any sudden movements.

A few minutes later a second police car pulled in next to the first one. That's when it hit me -- the first cop was calling for backup, and that's why he didn't get out of his car. With the second officer there, they both turned on their lights and got on the blowhorn, instructing me to exit the vehicle slowly with my hands in clear sight. Huh? I obviously complied.

They told me to put my hands on my trunk and they patted me down for weapons and drugs. By this point I started to get a little ticked off and asked exactly what was wrong with sitting in a public parking lot and listening to music. They answered that there had been some vandalism in the area, and when a homeowner saw my car in the parking lot she immediately called it in. The cops couldn't seem to believe that I was just there because it was my old field, and I was just listening to music. But it was the truth.

They told me to leave the area, and I just had to ask one more question. Probably stupid, but I was 20 years old and not exactly humble. So I asked, "Why do I have to leave? I'm not doing anything illegal, and it's a public park." One officer just looked at me and sneered. He was probably wondering if he could somehow shoot me and get away with it. He just said "Leave" again, so I did.

For some reason I haven't taken many 'therapeutic" drives since then.

Cornucopia

Had an awesome holiday season with my family, mainly resting and having fun with a little bit of work in between. Here are some blurbs from the past few days:

Dr. Evil wants my la-zer

I had LASIK surgery done on December 28 and am loving it! The procedure itself was quite surreal, but the results have been great so far. I have a checkup tomorrow morning but my vision is at least 20/20 already, maybe even better, and it will only improve over the next few months. You can't imagine how big a lifestyle change this is, especially for a guy who wants to wrestle with his kids on a daily basis. Now there's no more worry about bending or breaking Daddy's glasses. Watch out kids... it's on!

And it's official: I'm as stubborn as my dad. My pre-surgery appointment on Dec. 27 included a dilation of my eyes. No problem. But they forgot to give me any shades on my way out, and it was a super-bright day outside with not a cloud in the sky. "Meh," I said, "I'll just head to the pharmacy to get my eyedrops, and pick up some cheap sunglasses while I'm there." Five minutes later I'm driving my car with both visors down, one hand over my eyebrows and tears streaming down my face from the sunlight. I then get to the pharmacy and they're out of the eyedrops I need. "I'm so sorry!", the pharmacist says, "It's a really common drop and we've never run out before!". Thanks, I'm feeling better already. They sure as heck aren't gettin' my sunglasses purchase. On to the next pharmacy, more than five miles away. More visors, more tears and pain, more blindness... but I made it. They had the drops, I bought the sunglasses and all was well. I won.

Long story, but it can be summed up in three words: I'm an idiot.

Blogging paralysis

Have you ever had such a daunting task ahead of you that you didn't know when or how to start? That's kinda how I am with the blog right now -- tons of ideas floating around in my head. Here's a sneak peak at some of the stuff I'm mulling over. Sooner or later I'll write about the following:

• Book reviews -- The Maker's Diet and American Theocracy
• Life lessons from the show Battlestar Galactica
• What I learned from Moses
• Suicide, guns, gangs, violence and teens... a ticket to hell? Or just hell on earth?
• Jesus came to redeem the world... do I think he failed?
• Gap analysis -- rich vs. poor, religious vs. secular, race vs. race. Are we getting better or worse?
• Favorite movie quotes -- action and sci-fi films

It's gonna be a fun ride!

Parenting quotes

These were from the last days of my 2006 "Daily Dads" calendar at the office:

"No one knows the true worth of a man but his family. The dreary man drowsing, drop-jawed in the commuter train, the office bore, the taciturn associate -- may be the pivot of a family's life, welcomed with hugs, told the day's news, asked for advice. No longer Mr. B., but Dad. No longer a nonentity but a man possessed of skills and wisdom; courageous and capable, patient and kind. Respected and loved." -- Pam Brown

"Children are natural mimics, who act like their parents despite every effort to teach them good manners." -- Erma Bombeck

Stat of the week

Thousands of Americans have heart attacks each year while surrounded by strangers (in restaurants, at the movies, in the park, etc...). In these cases, less than 1 out of 3 receives CPR.

Shame on us.

Picture of the week

Spiritual disciplines

A lot of times when someone hears the phrase "spiritual disciplines", one of the following thoughts may rise up:

• If it's spiritual, why do I have to "do" anything? Isn't "spiritual discipline" an oxymoron?
• Sounds selfish. Why not do something for somebody else?
• Is this about the "big 3" disciplines from Judaism that Jesus talks about in his sermon on the mount (prayer, fasting, giving)?

OK, you got me... these are my thoughts that often rise up when thinking about spiritual disciplines. But it's not because disciplines are a bad thing -- it's just my cynicism and rebeliousness coming to the forefront.

A friend challenged me to write down some personal disciplines that are simple, achievable and have an impact. Here's what I came up with:

• I will smile and use the name of service-people I come in contact with (waiters, cashiers, etc...).
• I will read the bible with an open mind to learn new things, not just reaffirm what I've always thought.
• I will listen to God's lessons in daily relationships, discussions, experiences and challenges. He can teach me through the ordinary as well as the extraordinary.
• I will remind myself that other people are priceless souls, just like me. They are all worthy of respect and unconditional love.
• I will use the internet to become a better person.
• I will use film the same way (will watching this movie give me an opportunity to grow?).
• I will find my niche in work that is fun, rewarding and fitting, but I won't worry about it. I will trust God with my career.
• I will put my family relationships above all other earthly ones. They come first and should get my best, not my leftovers.
• I will pay attention to people in need, and try to meet those needs.
• I will remember that redemption is not dependent on what I do. I will relax about eternity and try to stay in the moment.
• I will give myself room to screw up all of the above.

If this year has taught me nothing else, it has given me an appreciation and acceptance of people across all walks of life. My list above may have absolutely no relevance to you at all, and today I can accept that and inquire about your own life lessons, hoping we can all learn together. Life's too short to keep learning lessons the hard way through personal experience. I'm ready to cheat off somebody else's work for a bit. :)

Julian Ruiz funeral, Western-style

Last Friday was Julian’s funeral, and there was plenty of drama to go around. Here’s a rundown on the proceedings, put in the structure of an all-time great film:

The Good

The funeral was held at United Methodist Church in Westbury, less than a mile from the street where Julian was killed. There were three main ministers for the funeral – the senior pastor, the associate pastor and the music minister. You can read a profile for each of them here (hold the “Shift” key when you click on the link to open it in a new window, or else you’ll leave this site).

I really liked Dr. Phillips, the senior pastor. He has a very genuine, down-to-earth demeanor and had some good comments. My favorites included:

• “Did anyone of you in here give yourself life? Did you choose who you are, when you were born and what family you’re in? NO! The Lord did that for you – you had no part in it! Your job now is to take what you’ve been given and choose what kind of life you want to live. Don’t waste your time or energy wishing you were somebody else or somewhere else – you’re right where you’re supposed to be.”
• “The Lord gives life, and he also receives life. I believe that God has received Julian, and that is the solid ground that gives me peace.”
  
  

Note: I was so glad he didn’t say “God gives life, and he also takes life”. Although the bible shows instances where God used people to kill, I don’t think that’s what happened here. Those boys had a choice, and they chose to kill Julian. God didn’t take the life, but he will receive it. I liked that perspective.

The most moving part of the funeral was when Julian’s stepmom spoke. She said that she had some regrets about her relationship with Julian, but she would not wallow in them. Instead, she would channel those regrets into positive actions to make her family even stronger in the future.
Examples:

--"Julian, I want you to know that I noticed how hard you were working lately to make some good changes in your life. And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you about it. But I did notice, and I’m very proud of you. From now on, I will pay closer attention to your brothers and sisters, and will encourage them when they show the kind of strength and dedication you were showing.”
--“Julian, I’m sorry that we had so much drama in our family. It seemed there was always a fight, a crisis or a grudge. From now on, I will not let petty disagreements mess up what should be joyful family moments. Our time together is too precious to waste on those things, and I promise I will do better.”

It was also good to spend a little bit of time with the family before the funeral, and then spend some time alone and reflect on things. I just sat and thought and watched the video tribute to Julian that was being played on the projection screen at the front of the auditorium. I sat on the fifth row on the right side of the church, and had the row all to myself. The solitude was welcomed and it seemed like my first chance in 10 days to just sit alone and be.

The Bad

This may seem pedantic and inappropriate, but the associate minister’s voice kept cracking me up during her part of the eulogy. She was a very large woman (over 6’ tall and quite wide) and seemed to have a kind spirit, but she talked like the priest in the movie “Princess Bride”. All of her “Rs” came out as a “W” sound. And of course, of all scriptures to read, she picked John 14:

Twust in God, twust also in me. In my Fathah’s house awe many wooms. I am going there to pwepare a pwace for you.

How was I supposed to keep a straight face during this? Answer: I didn’t.

The other bad part was when Julian’s oldest sister got up to speak. She said:

“There are people who have hurt Julian. Who have abused him and caused him pain. They know who they are, and Julian will haunt them forever.”

Whoa. There’s a pretty sordid history here between Julian and his mom and stepdad, but it’s not my place to share details. Just know that Julian escaped his mom and stepdad in Michigan three years ago, and was on the way to becoming a healthy human being when he was killed.
Now for the ugly.

The Ugly

The funeral was to begin at 2pm. I got there around 1:35 and visited with the family for a few minutes, then Mr. Ruiz invited me to go to the casket and see the body. I went ahead and did that, but seeing Julian’s face really didn’t have an impact on me. He’d been dead for 10 days by then, so he was very “dry” and fake-looking. Nothing at all like the face I saw lying on the street, so it was like looking at a different person.

While I was still standing there, I heard some shouts and other nosies behind me. My first instinct was that the gang had showed up, against all logic and sense at this funeral guarded by dozens of police officers. Thankfully, my first instinct was wrong – it wasn’t the gang; it was Julian’s mom and stepdad who had arrived unannounced from Michigan.

Julian’s father had seen the two of them arrive and had asked the stepdad to leave, but the stepdad stayed. Seconds later fists were flying. I kept hearing the oldest sister scream,
“You’re not his mother! You gave birth to him but that’s all you were good for! You are NOT his MOTHER!”

Very, very sad scene. So much emotion and history here, and it obviously isn’t going to lessen anytime soon. Of course there were lots of news cameras there, so the whole thing was all over the news (even CNN) just hours later.

And then it was over. Good, bad and ugly, all done.

Bonus anecdote

Friday night I was cooking some food in the kitchen while Jamie was outside with the kids. Samantha came in to check on things and noticed the smell of her favorite pasta. I confirmed that I was making it for her, and she said, “Thanks, Daddy! You’re good at making people happy!”

She ain’t so bad at it, either.

I'm still alive

Since Wednesday night nothing new had really happened with Julian's family or the investigation. I tried to call around and get information about funeral plans but had no luck. Then this morning I got blasted.

In one hour, the following things happened:

1. Jamie's father-in-law called and had the cell phone numbers of Julian's father and of Julian's stepmother. He got them by talking to the medical examiners and funeral home. Sometimes it's good to be a chaplain.
2. Julian's stepmother called me and we talked for a few minutes. She let me know that the family still wants to talk to me about Julian's final seconds, and that there was a community meeting tonight at the high school to discuss safety. I promised her I would be at the meeting and would see them there.
3. Courtney Lavala at Houston's NBC affiliate, Local 2 Houston, called me to let me know about the school meeting. She also wanted to interview me about my experience and my feelings and reaction to living in this neighborhood. I declined the interview but she still went through the neighborhood and talked to some people. In particular there was one really hot chick with her two kids, and the hot chick said some really good stuff about coming together and saying no to violence. Yes, the hot chick was my wife. The kids were filmed playing in the yard and loved seeing themselves on the 6 o'clock news.

After that I finished some things in the office and then headed to the YMCA for a workout, which felt great. Then I got home just in time to spend some time with the kids before going to the community meeting.

The meeting was positive and well-attended (maybe 300 people?), although of course the media focused on the one idiot heckler who showed up. After it was over, Jamie and I got to spend about 30 minutes with Julian's family, just walking the school halls and listening to their cute and heartbreaking anecdotes.

They gave us t-shirts with Julian's picture and the DOB and date of death. Below his picture were the words, "I'm still alive". Last week he burned a CD of music for his sister, and that was the title he gave the CD.

It was a big day, and a very good one! We're really starting to get the sense of our neighborhood standing up and supporting the school, the kids and the local public service staff. Why can't we ever seem to get it together unless something terrible happens first? I guess for the same reason we don't really clean house thoroughly until company's coming over.

At least it's happening now! In the past 48 hours all local graffiti has been removed, three illegal dump sites have been cleaned up and some street lights have been fixed. If only we could keep this kind of attention to this stuff without continued tragedies.