16 Days (but who's counting?)

That, my friends, is one BOSS pan of paella!

Believe it or not, after today's installment from TMFKATB from behind the Zion Curtain, there will only be two more updates. He has a mere 16 days left before his two year service comes to an end and he returns home.

16 days - but who's counting?

From this week's letter, I think TMFKATB may be counting, but more about the things he has yet to do and the people he has yet to see.  He was pretty excited about the progress they are seeing in a person they've been working with for quite some time. He's had a chance to see the goodness in people as the hand of fellowship has once again been extended from multiple people to this family from Venezuela that they've been working with too and he was grateful for those kindnesses.

People are recognizing that he'll be leaving in a couple of weeks and in Latin tradition, that means fiestas. I mean check out that ridiculous pan of paella. That was done for one the missionary's birthdays! That thing is fan-freaking-tastic! He knows he won't see this kind of celebration for awhile. He'll face a lot of "lasts" over the course of the next few days. As he closed his email today, he said to us:

It's getting real! I am going to miss this.

He wasn't talking about the paella (although how can you not miss that?) of course. He'll miss the people. He'll miss the work. He'll miss the service. He'll miss so much. But it's time to get ready for the next phase of life. So much awaits him. But he'll be ready for it, even though he may not know it yet. He's got sixteen more days of an experience that he'll never have again. He doesn't need to worry about what's next. Like I told him today, just enjoy what you've got now.

In the meantime, the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I will keep the countdown clock going. 16 days. It'll be here in no time! In proof, though, that A) he is truly aware that he's coming home and B) that he is my son, he wanted to know what I was doing about getting him upgraded on his Delta flights home. Clearly, he hasn't heard about the changes to the Skymiles program in the last two years. He'll enjoy is seat in Coach.

Quick hello

Today's post-haircut sneer - the Vein of
Approval on his forehead liked it - I
gotta tell ya, I love this kid!

We are, as of today, just shy of seven weeks away from TMFKATB's return from his two-year missionary service. If he's counting down the weeks and days, his letters do not really reflect that. Today's letter still shows a young man focused on the work to be done, particularly in the face of more than a little change.

At the end of this week, a new mission president begins his three year service in TMFKATB's mission. This, people, is no small task and not for the faint of heart. The men and women that lead these missions across the world are a special breed and we are grateful for them. With any large change that impact a bunch of 18 - 20 year olds, the rumor mill is running at DefCon 5 about what's coming. TMFKATB's take on it? "Excited" was the word he used. Because the LDS community is the definition of a small world, we have some Kevin Bacon-esque 'Six Degrees of Separation' to his new mission president and it's nothing but good. So excited is a good place for him to be.

In his pearl of wisdom today, I was counseled to get my haircut in, and I quote, "the ghetto" because they know how to cut hair there. So a couple of things...he got his haircut today by a lady from Puebla, Mexico. She is living in a suburb of Salt Lake City, Utah. They are behind the Zion Curtain. Doesn't that just scream "ghetto?" Yeah, I didn't think so. But then again, he still thinks that growing up on the mean streets of the Dirty 630, Naperville, IL, was a rough go.

Like his father, he's not right. But I'm so good with that.

Healthy Service

Farmer TMFKATB

The good people at British Airways have a motto to which they strive to adhere: To fly, to serve

I think missionaries like TMFKATB might play on that motto slightly: To work, to teach, to serve

In this week's letter, he talked a little about the opportunities for service that arose during the week. He seemed pretty excited about the chance to do "lots of service!" This led him to lament that he was pretty sore as a result. He and his companion tackled some junk-filled yards that, in by his observation, were allowed to junk up specifically for this missionaries to clean up. I'm not buying that but he talked about the fun they had helping the people with whom they are working. The best part of it was when he said, "I am feeling healthy and strong again."

That, my friends, was music to our ears. Healthy and strong and finding joy in service, even if it was clearing the detritus someone had let build up in their yard. There really is joy in getting outside and doing something for someone else. There's no thanks required or needed. The thanks comes in the feeling you get when doing right by or for someone else. It's a really good feeling. The more you serve, the better you feel. That's the beauty of it.

Point/Counterpoint

"Jane, you ignorant..." well, you know the rest.

For those of you of a certain age (like mine or older) and you were, like me, a news nerd even as a younger child, you will remember the "Point/Counterpoint" segment on CBS' venerable "60 Minutes." The format was fairly simple - for a few minutes in every episode, a wizened conservative (in this case, an older man who looked like he'd smoked more than his share of Camels in his lifetime) and a brash liberal (a woman, natch, because it was the 70's) would face off on the issue du jour. It was a format that was rife for farce and the early seasons of "SNL" were brilliant in their skewering. I can still hear Dan Ackroyd imperiously intoning, "Jane, you ignorant..." well, you know the rest. Let's just say the spoof highlighted the differences in their respective point of views. It made you laugh.

Sadly, in today's political discourse/horror story, there doesn't seem to be a lot of room for laughter. Unless, of course, you find the thought of a racist, bullying, mysoginst xenophobe with literally zero policy plan leading the nation funny. Queue the laugh track, right? I didn't think so. This current environment has led to some interesting (some inspiring, some soul crushing) conversations with my friends who are on all sides of the political spectrum. Through it all, the hope is that there is some common ground where we can meet. Call it moderate, call it crazy.

The funny thing is that I know it's possible. For the last nearly year and a half I've been serving in a calling at Church with a woman whose affinity for Fox News and their 'fair and balanced' drivel terrifies me and she pretty much thinks I am deranged because I don't share that affinity, among other reasons. To say we are oil and water politically is an understatement. It's made for some lively conversation at dinner parties. In proof that God knows what's best (and that He has a sense of humor), she and I were asked to teach our adult Sunday School class and we've been doing so for like I said, at least a year and a half now. Why on earth are two lay people teaching Sunday School, you ask? That's how we Mormons roll. It's a lay clergy, so you staff with the resources you have. I have to say I think we've made it work. We stayed focused on what we we'd been asked to teach. We've had great participation from the people in our class and they've made it so we've been the learners more than the teachers. It's actually been a lot of fun and we always kept it cool, too. No shout downs, no imperious pronouncements (although that could have been really fun).

Well, today my partner in teaching crime was given another assignment so our version of "Point/Counterpoint" has come to an abrupt screeching halt. I'm going to be honest here and say I'm going to miss teaching with her. It's been a really good run with someone I can call a friend, in spite of our differences.

In the end, it's probably for the best. With this presidential election turning into the surreal train wreck that it is, it was probably only a matter of time before one of us laid the other out flat in front of the class (like the way that Trump's supporters seem to enjoy using on those who are, oh I don't know, exercising the right to protest). No one needs to see that in a Sunday School class. No one.

A little mayhem

Creative moving solutions.
The ties on the bike frames
are a nice touch.

Apologies for the delay in the update from TMFKATB this week. My travel precluded me from posting, simple as that.
His letter was a real joy to read. It exuded excitement and he used the word 'mayhem.' That's good stuff, people.

It seemed like it was a pretty busy work for him administratively. He and his companion led a few training meetings and spent a big chunk of time honing their creative packing skills as they transferred other missionaries throughout the mission. The use of ties as warning flags was a pretty creative touch. How no one is maimed during these transfer days is beyond me...

There was also a day of service spent translating at a free dental care clinic at the University of Utah. It was that event that he described as 'mayhem.' He also called it 'so fun.' He seems so energized by the work that he and his fellow missionaries are doing. When I read about the things that he's doing, I am grateful that he chose this path. He continues to learn and have experiences that will serve him well the rest of his life. You can't really complain about that, now can you?

The Enforcer?

Post-mission career choice?

It appears from the picture that we got from TMFKATB in this week's letter that he has been regaling the good people who reside behind the Zion Curtain of his life growing up on the mean streets of Chicago, or the Greatest City in the United States. Per his letter, a member of the Church in his area bought him this gem of a Chicago PD knock off shirt.

I think I should clear up a few things about TMFKATB's "mean streets" experience. Here we go:

Those "mean streets"? Yeah, those were in Naperville, or Naperthrill, or the Dirty 630. The mean factor? Terrifying! It was embodied in the irate pearl-wearing, Volvo wagon-driving hausfrau upset about not getting covered parking in the downtown garage, thus exposing her to the elements while walking to the Ann Taylor store. And tough? You bet! Some of those kids had to ride the bus, the bus!, to high school up until the day they got their driver's license. It's a miracle that any of them made it out alive...

But made it out alive he did and he's telling tales as he serves. This week's letter talked a bit about the service opportunities he and his companions have had in the run-up to Thanksgiving. They spent a bit of time prepping turkeys and meals for distribution. It helped him to see again the needs that exist in the world and to feel the reward of selfless service. He also talked about being introduced to a former gang banger. Hearing that man's stories no doubt put TMFKATB's Dirty 630 experiences into stark relief. But what he found in this man was a good soul and a powerful lesson in not judging a book by its cover. There is good to be found in all of us was his subtle reminder.

It's a good reminder as we enter the Thanksgiving week. We should be grateful for the good in the world. It's there, even if it takes some digging to get to it. There is good out there. It's a blessing for which I'm grateful. I'm grateful for my Chicago cop wanna-be son and for what he teaches me every week.

"If a free society"

I decided to take this past Friday as a vacation day. Because work. One of the good things about our location here in Connecticutistan is our ability to flee get to either NYC or Boston pretty painlessly.  So the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I opted for day in Boston.

I'd wanted to get to the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum for quite some time and we were able to spend some quality time there. Although I was born just a few years after his assassination, I know much of what he did in his three short years as President shaped the politics of the world in which I grew up. For example, his stance against the Russians and everyone's wacky Cuban uncle, Papa Fidel, ensured there would be a world for me to be born into. It's chilling just how close to the brink we were during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Wow, just wow. One of the cool things about the museum is the placement of many of Mr. Kennedy's quotes on the walls. The following, from his Inaugural Address in 1961, struck me:

If a free society cannot help the many who are poor,

it cannot save the few who are rich.

Those words were spoken more than fifty years ago and resound even more powerfully today. The chasm of poverty, intolerance, and unkindness that divides our society grows ever larger. It is a gross irony that our country will wrap itself in hysterics over a fundamentalist family that excuses molestation in its own ranks but demands death sentences for others accused similarly but we as a nation forget, or worse ignore, the plight of those in our own neighborhoods who go hungry nightly, or are marginalized because they can't afford medical care, or are kicked to the curb for any manner of 'offenses.'

We spent some time this afternoon with a few folks who have been marginalized and it was a profound reminder of how easy, and rewarding, it is to help our fellow man. The stunningly patient SML and I joined a few of the young people from Church that we work with at a shared residence in Hartford called Peter's Retreat. We had the chance to make dinner for the residents and, in a nod to our Catholic friends, throw down a few rousing games of Bingo. The residents, most of whom are living with HIV/AIDS, have been given the chance to get off the streets and get the care they need in a safe environment. It was a simple dinner of burgers and dogs and the usual accouterment but what was more valuable than the meal was the time together. It was great to sit with the residents and see how this place has impacted them for the better. Much of what is done at this place is volunteer-driven and I realized if I could have just recorded some of the laughter we heard and the thank you's and hugs that were shared, how much easier it would be to get people to share of their time here and places like it. 

I can remember when AIDS was a death sentence and the mere mention of it struck fear into any and all who heard it. No more and we saw that today. One of the other 'adults' in our group brought two of his children and they were active participants and to see them embracing people afflicted with HIV/AIDS with no fear (and why shouldn't they?) was beautiful. They simply saw them for who they are - people, their brothers and sisters really.

After all, that's what we are. Brothers and sisters. Our lives are made better as we do something good for one another. A simple act of kindness can make all the difference in someone else's life. Do something good.