Monday, May 02, 2005
It's Just 90 Minutes
April 14th, 1991 was a Sunday. I remember it vividly as I spent that morning at the Minnehaha County Country Club in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. KDLT-TV had just promoted their Assignment Editor to News Director and he was making sweeping changes in the news department. He scheduled a brunch that morning followed by a meeting about the changes that were going to made in the station's newscasts. Being director of the weekend newscasts as well as being heavily involved in shows three days a week, I was told that it was imperative that I be there, that missing it would reflect poorly on me. In short, this 'optional' meeting was anything but, my supervisor made it clear that I was expected to be there.
The brunch was first class. I've always thought that those stations where a chef cooks you an omlette to order are about the coolest thing ever. I remember that they had really good bagels and real, honest-to-goodness, lox. Remember, this was Sioux Falls, South Dakota, a good bagel was tough to come by and I had never even seen real lox before, having discovered the joys of a good bagel just a few years before. Yet, I had no desire to be there.
My supervisor had made it clear that I was expected to be there when I walked into his office and asked for the day off. My sister, who lived just south of Omaha had given birth to her third child, my second niece, a few days before. I don't remember exactly why, but they had scheduled the baptism for just ten days after her birth. This brunch and meeting were going to make it impossible for me to attend. I had attended her other two childrens' baptisms and wanted to be there. It simply wasn't going to happen and I was heartbroken. To make matters worse, the meeting was utter bullshit. There was no reason for me to be there. No production aspects of the new direction of news were even discussed. It was a complete waste of my time.
Today that niece was confirmed. Yet another load of bullshit almost made it impossible for me to attend. I had attended the confirmations of the other two kids and was being torn up by the possibility not to be able to attend today. I struggled with my decision for a couple of weeks. I had vowed to never step foot into that church again, but that would mean missing this event. But 14 years ago I had missed this child's baptism, I simply couldn't bring myself to miss another important even in this girl's life.
I wrote letters to the pastors of the church, explaining what I thought they had done wrong, why I hadn't been attending church, and why I would return one last time for this event. I felt this a nescessary step, as I really didn't want to be bothered, to be asked how I was and to be smiled at by people who claim to have respect for all life yet openly asked God to strike a judge dead. As inexcusable as I find this, I couldn't miss my neice's confirmation. As physically ill as it made me to walk into the church today, I knew I needed to be there. While I hated being there, I knew I was doing the right thing. I can't let bullshit keep me from important family functions. I always regretted not telling my supervisor at KDLT, an asshole named Wes DesJardins, to piss off and drive to Omaha that morning 14 years ago. I feel a lot better about telling Thomas Beaverson that he's a hate monger and that I don't want to attend his church anymore, but that I'm going to attend one last time for this important day in my neice's life.
So how'd it go? I felt horrible walking into the church, I certainly didn't want to be there. I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes, not wanting to spend a second longer in the church than I absolutely had to. I was actually a little surprised that there was a seat saved for me, and I took a seat on the aisle. This caused a bit of an intersting incident as one of the ushers asked if I could help out with the offering. Apparently my response of "not on your life" wasn't understood and a terse "no" had to be offered to make my lack of interest in such activity clear.
I couldn't bring myself to sing. This in a church where I once sang and played harmonica with the Praise Team. I couldn't find any joy in singing and found myself sitting there silently. Worse, the congregation sang a song called God Loves Life, I have no doubt that he does, and was deeply saddened that this congregation that claims to respect all life in song apparently condones the wishes that Judge George Greer of the Florida probate court be struck dead by God.
Two of the Confirmands passed out, one vomitted. If you think I take any joy in this you're wrong. This was a big and important day for them, to be embarassed in such a way is tough for a 14 year old. Fourteen year olds are resilient, at least I hope they are. I hope every one of these kids is strong in their faith. I hope every one of them truely loves life, and doesn't just sing songs about it. For those involved in those incidents, I hope they remember the importance of the day, and not just the unfortunate incidents.
I took communion. That was probably the hardest thing of all. Of all the struggles I had with this event in the weeks before it, the thought of whether or not to take communion hadn't occured to me. I hadn't intended to take communion, but then the confirmands were asked, "Do you intend faithfully to conform all your life to the divine Word, to be fathful in the use of God's Word and Sacraments, which are His means of grace, and in faith, word, and action to remain true to God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, even to death?" I was asked a similar question at their age. I haven't always remained true to that promise, but I've tried. Refusing to take communion because I had a problem with the man offering it wouldn't have been right.
But I prayed. I prayed that God would show me the proper way in this. Waiting in line for communion, I parayed for the congregation, that God would show them the way, that God would show Pastor Beaverson the proper way. I think I did the right thing by taking communion, I hope I did. Some day I'm sure I'll find out.
My nephew's wife needed to get out to my sister's and check on dinner while the confirmands had their pictures taken. I gladly drove her, looking for any excuse to get out of the church, to avoid talking to anybody lest I speak my mind about my disgust at the congregation for allowing hate to be preached in God's house.
I've had uncounted 90 minute periods in my life. The one from 11:00am to 12:30pm was one of the most difficult. It was very hard for me to be there, but I was. For my neice.
BOJ
The brunch was first class. I've always thought that those stations where a chef cooks you an omlette to order are about the coolest thing ever. I remember that they had really good bagels and real, honest-to-goodness, lox. Remember, this was Sioux Falls, South Dakota, a good bagel was tough to come by and I had never even seen real lox before, having discovered the joys of a good bagel just a few years before. Yet, I had no desire to be there.
My supervisor had made it clear that I was expected to be there when I walked into his office and asked for the day off. My sister, who lived just south of Omaha had given birth to her third child, my second niece, a few days before. I don't remember exactly why, but they had scheduled the baptism for just ten days after her birth. This brunch and meeting were going to make it impossible for me to attend. I had attended her other two childrens' baptisms and wanted to be there. It simply wasn't going to happen and I was heartbroken. To make matters worse, the meeting was utter bullshit. There was no reason for me to be there. No production aspects of the new direction of news were even discussed. It was a complete waste of my time.
Today that niece was confirmed. Yet another load of bullshit almost made it impossible for me to attend. I had attended the confirmations of the other two kids and was being torn up by the possibility not to be able to attend today. I struggled with my decision for a couple of weeks. I had vowed to never step foot into that church again, but that would mean missing this event. But 14 years ago I had missed this child's baptism, I simply couldn't bring myself to miss another important even in this girl's life.
I wrote letters to the pastors of the church, explaining what I thought they had done wrong, why I hadn't been attending church, and why I would return one last time for this event. I felt this a nescessary step, as I really didn't want to be bothered, to be asked how I was and to be smiled at by people who claim to have respect for all life yet openly asked God to strike a judge dead. As inexcusable as I find this, I couldn't miss my neice's confirmation. As physically ill as it made me to walk into the church today, I knew I needed to be there. While I hated being there, I knew I was doing the right thing. I can't let bullshit keep me from important family functions. I always regretted not telling my supervisor at KDLT, an asshole named Wes DesJardins, to piss off and drive to Omaha that morning 14 years ago. I feel a lot better about telling Thomas Beaverson that he's a hate monger and that I don't want to attend his church anymore, but that I'm going to attend one last time for this important day in my neice's life.
So how'd it go? I felt horrible walking into the church, I certainly didn't want to be there. I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes, not wanting to spend a second longer in the church than I absolutely had to. I was actually a little surprised that there was a seat saved for me, and I took a seat on the aisle. This caused a bit of an intersting incident as one of the ushers asked if I could help out with the offering. Apparently my response of "not on your life" wasn't understood and a terse "no" had to be offered to make my lack of interest in such activity clear.
I couldn't bring myself to sing. This in a church where I once sang and played harmonica with the Praise Team. I couldn't find any joy in singing and found myself sitting there silently. Worse, the congregation sang a song called God Loves Life, I have no doubt that he does, and was deeply saddened that this congregation that claims to respect all life in song apparently condones the wishes that Judge George Greer of the Florida probate court be struck dead by God.
Two of the Confirmands passed out, one vomitted. If you think I take any joy in this you're wrong. This was a big and important day for them, to be embarassed in such a way is tough for a 14 year old. Fourteen year olds are resilient, at least I hope they are. I hope every one of these kids is strong in their faith. I hope every one of them truely loves life, and doesn't just sing songs about it. For those involved in those incidents, I hope they remember the importance of the day, and not just the unfortunate incidents.
I took communion. That was probably the hardest thing of all. Of all the struggles I had with this event in the weeks before it, the thought of whether or not to take communion hadn't occured to me. I hadn't intended to take communion, but then the confirmands were asked, "Do you intend faithfully to conform all your life to the divine Word, to be fathful in the use of God's Word and Sacraments, which are His means of grace, and in faith, word, and action to remain true to God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, even to death?" I was asked a similar question at their age. I haven't always remained true to that promise, but I've tried. Refusing to take communion because I had a problem with the man offering it wouldn't have been right.
But I prayed. I prayed that God would show me the proper way in this. Waiting in line for communion, I parayed for the congregation, that God would show them the way, that God would show Pastor Beaverson the proper way. I think I did the right thing by taking communion, I hope I did. Some day I'm sure I'll find out.
My nephew's wife needed to get out to my sister's and check on dinner while the confirmands had their pictures taken. I gladly drove her, looking for any excuse to get out of the church, to avoid talking to anybody lest I speak my mind about my disgust at the congregation for allowing hate to be preached in God's house.
I've had uncounted 90 minute periods in my life. The one from 11:00am to 12:30pm was one of the most difficult. It was very hard for me to be there, but I was. For my neice.
BOJ
# posted by Blind Orange Julius @ 12:07 AM 
