After I sat my coffee in the cupholder of my car I thought I might as well. Church didn't start for another hour. I'll just pop in and grab the notes and be on my way. The old in-and-out. When I showed up and asked for the notes on this week's lecture I was met with awkward pleasantries and shy mutterings that led into a sincere, warm hug from the pastor.
"We don't have notes this week. We're watching a video," he says with a smile.
"Oh," I said.
"But we'll be back in the gospel of Luke next week. All about Jesus again."
"Great! I love that guy. But I'm going on a road trip and won't be back for two weeks so…"
"Next week's notes will be online," the pastor's son said while tuning his guitar.
"Where are you headed?" the pastor inquired.
"Chicago. By way of Austin. I'm headed to El Paso today."
"That's a long drive," the pastor's son kept his focus on his headstock.
"And who's accompanying you on this journey?"
"Me, myself, and I," I grinned dopily.
I made my leave politely and quickly after that and said I'd check in with them in a few weeks.
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The kind of people that pull over into the median of the freeway in each state I crossed today were curious. The freeway was always the 10, the people were never the same. In Arizona, in the middle of Phoenix under an overpass, a taxi driver sat on the back of his van facing oncoming traffic eating a sandwich. In New Mexico, a family sprawled out to - I can only assume - stretch their legs. And finally, in Texas, a young couple argues emphatically at each other, motioning from their halted car to the heavens and back again.
No open mics in El Paso tonight. The show will have to start tomorrow in Austin. Fitting, I suppose, since I'll be arriving in cut-off shorts and a button-down dress shirt. I should slide into their midst without much fanfare.
I've found a bed in El Paso with friend-of-a-friend, Derek Cormell. He's working in El Paso with his uncle at an evangelical youth outreach program called "Wayside Teens." Derek just recently graduated from the Dreamcenter program in Los Angeles and is excited about the prospect of working with teenagers in El Paso as a, kind of, Christian role model. (my words) The space itself is really impressive/moving. A stage for theatrics/performances, there's a kitchen with meals supplied and tendered by youth volunteers, a study room, two (count 'em TWO) pool tables and a foosball table. It's a haven, a heaven, a very welcoming, beautiful place.
Derek and I eventually wind up on the topic of faith and I spit my usual lines about Jesus being "way cool" and questioning the importance of faith if the actions line up with the example Jesus set… It is a line. I'm no better than a bro in a bar asking a attractive blond if it "hurt when (she) fell?" Derek assures me that I'm "on a path." Then he tells me C.S. Lewis was an outspoken atheist before some G.K. Chesterton turned him around. Had I known this and forgotten it? It surprised me nonetheless. "Did you know 80% of teenagers who grew up with faith in high school end up abandoning it by their Junior year of college?" Derek asks. I had, in fact. Just last week.
To counter-balance the faith talk that seems to be circling me is in my car stereo. Keith Richards' Life narrated by Johnny Depp is a romp. Full of insight and depth I - shallowly - assumed didn't, nay, couldn't exist there. I've also packed my phonePod full of punk and trash. Bad Religion, The Descendents and Trash Talk flew me across the barren New Mexico desert. And some horribly hilarious jokes from Anthony Jeselnik.
As far as Sundays go, it was decently reverent.
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Tomorrow: Austin, Texas and my first open mic. (after 10 more hours of punk, stand-up and Life [narrated by Johnny Depp])
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