It was probably over a year ago. A
couple of the Deacons at our church and I were shooting the
breeze at one of the pubs down the
street. We were chatting about the youth ministry, the future of our
church, matters of prayer... you know, things most people chat about in dank
pubs. That was when Russ Fung paid me a comment. That's right, a
comment. "Yea, but you're an old soul."
Huh? An "old soul?"
What does that mean? You can only imagine in my transition to 30s life of
achy joints, loss of "a step," and discovery of multiple grey hairs I
took great offense. "OLD SOUL! What do you mean 'old
soul?!'"
Apparently that was no slight to my
decreasing ability to out run youngsters on the Ultimate Frisbee field or leap
for rebounds in basketball. It had nothing to do with the receding
hairline I had secretly always coveted developing. "Old soul"
didn't even mean that I was necessarily reaping what I had sown after making
fun of other youth workers age in my college years (Allen Miller will never
read this) with run on skit characters.
We all remember the day we moved into our
very first place. Not the place we shared in college with friends who
would become enemies because they apparently were part of a family with no
soul, wishing their roommates would suffer in cleaning their dishes and picking
up their clothes. The first place you moved into after school. The
one you rented during your first series of paychecks.
Bam. You'd arrived. You had your
very own place. You had to make it your own. My first place was
just West of Denver, CO. To this day the USPS hasn't decided if where I
lived was Lakewood or Denver but nevertheless, I knew where it was. It
was where I picked it to be. It was home.
It had to reflect who I was... or rather
some combination of who I was and what I could afford. There was all the
donated furniture that came on behalf of the
church I was serving at the time. There was the first purchase, a
large grill and toolbox, that displayed my machismo. There was the record
player and stack of records. There was the working rotary phone.
Even today there is a lack of television in
our home. My wife, bless her heart, suffers through this old soul's old
form of entertainment. Today when she asked what we could do with our
free time I said, "Can we just be? I'd like to read."
Yep, exciting life we have here.
 |
| See, its okay for progressives to be "old souls" |
Sometimes I think to myself, what did
people do before internet, television, and even radio (another standard form of
entertainment in the Mangosong-Shankle home)? They read! There's
even that scene in the film "Lincoln" where he's simply sitting and
reading with his son. It was a kind of magical scene to us "old souls"
of how we used to bond with our family members.
Now when our families get together we play
Wii Sports until someone gets cracked in the head by a mom who doesn't
understand her range of motion. Now we sit and watch movies. Well I
don't want to watch a movie. I want to read with you. I want to
read entire chapters to you and you to me. I want to discuss them in
great detail and have my rabid curiosity satisfied concerning everything you
know about everything.
Richard Cohen wrote an amazing article about how society is
falling apart around us. Not only are we playing Wii Sports and Sypping
one another. We don't even shake hands anymore. We hug, we say
"I love you" and kiss people we've just met as a new formality.
God help you if you're an introvert in today's society. You have to
"share" everything with everyone on the internet and kiss and hug
people who, if it weren't for a few hours, are total strangers.
We still joke about my being called an
"old soul." The best comments people can make about you are the
ones that can be interpreted across hundreds of channels. But I'll take it.
And to Richard Cohen, Tony Kornheiser, Russ Fung, and anyone else wishing to
deem themself "old geezer," there is a small group of us "old
souls" who will stand with you and for you.
The
Cheesfaketory Problem #1: No
Cheesecake Factory in the Bay Area has even 4-stars. None.
Youth
Ministry Frustration #1: Finding
places for kids under 12 to serve their community. They can jump off
trampolines, drive dune buggies, etc but can't serve soup.
Why
I Blog #1: Because when nobody edits
you always feel right.
PS - Russ Fung
never authorized the use of "old geezer." Its a comment.
That's right, a comment. I love you Russ. Let's shake hands and a
read a book at the Pub.
