Showing posts with label blue line. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blue line. Show all posts

Monday, July 20, 2009

Overheard Recently on the Train

  1. A man shouted into his cell phone, annoying many people on the train. I heard him clearly through my headphones and over the NPR broadcast. "Girl, I ain't had pig feet in a long time...I weigh 215. How much do you weigh? Girl, you weigh 226? You don't look like it in the pictures. It must be all in your butt." (He laughed. After a while, he hung up and spoke softly, almost tenderly, to a young African American man who sat down next to him.)
  2. A Latino man in his twenties spoke with an almost radio-quality voice to a trio who seemed to be related: a woman in a wheelchair, a man with wispy white hair whose bulldog look made him look like a man playing a villain in an adaptation of a Dickens novel, and their brother in denim and Vans. They had a fascinating conversation about the comfort/discomfort of Vans shoes, the JFK assassination (in 1966), the George Orwell novel "1985," and other things that I wish I could recall. At some point, as I stood to exit the train, the young man looked down at his shoes and said, "Did you shave with Jesus?" Then he said it again, and again, six times in all. The trio looked at him, then at each other.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Wonders Abound

From the train platform at Del Amo station, I observe a man in a tree. He stands on a slender branch, a modern halberd extending from his hand. A chainsaw dangles from a rope, but he is unfettered. The man tests his weight on a branch, then steps blithely without the use of his hands. He is hatless, crewless, and ladderless — a long row of trees in his path. When the train comes, I consider letting it pass to watch his artistry for another moment.



Isaac and I are on the road outside of Pasco, Washington, in the cab of a 24 foot truck. His father’s ’68 Mustang is behind us on a car carrier. There are sun-drenched vineyards to our left and to our right. With the windows down, the smell of grapes is intoxicating.




We are poolside, craning our necks to witness baptisms at Fountain of Life Covenant Church. It is one of those days when the pain and sadness that surround us — envelop us — separate like clouds and the rays of the sun warm us to the core. Today, the kingdom of God is palpable. John is in the water with Chef Mike and his brother, Rudy, in their oversized white robes. Mike came to faith and then invited his brother to “come and see.” Here they are in the pool being baptized, first Mike, then Rudy. When they are done, they hug John, and then they dive into the water and swim and splash toward the deep end of the pool. Lucas, age 4, smiles and says, “It’s just like the Olympics!"