A Boy We Called Matt

His name was Matthew.

We called him Matt.

I’m not sure if that’s what he preferred or if that’s just what we all called him by default.

Matt was quiet. He had opinions though. I mean he had a personality. He wasn’t one of those guys where you could engage in the most impassioned monologue in front of and get nothing in return. Matt had opinions...it just took him a bit longer to share them compared to other people.

Matt listened well too. He wasn’t running his mouth all the time which gave him a chance to actually listen to what you were saying. I guess that’s kind of rare.

I’m not really sure when I met Matt. It’s one of those things that just happened sometime back...well you know, sometime back then. He was kind of one of those guys that I built a friendship with out of thin air...out of nothing. As if one day we came up to each other for the first time, hugged each other and started talking about...you know...whatever.

“Hey you wanna come over tomorrow?”
“Yeah dude. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know, we could play video games. There’s this sweet movie out right now. You wanna go check it out?”
“Cool.”

That was probably what our first conversation was like. A conversation like that is the steel fiber that binds the hearts of two teenage boys together. There is no stronger bond. Of course our conversations got more open and vulnerable as time went on...

“Hey bro you wanna go to the mall?”
“Yeah bud, let’s do it!”
“Cool!”

(Note the terms bro & bud coupled with the indicative exclamation marks.)

You see Matt had a Jeep. I didn’t have a car. Matt lived 2 miles away from my house. It worked out well. I know what you’re thinking...don’t even go there. I didn’t use Matt for his car. It just worked out well that’s all.

Matt and I would get in these dumb conversations that would turn into even dumber arguments.

"Where'd you park?"
"I parked my jeep over near that Volvo."
"What did you say? Volvo? Dude, that’s not how you say Volvo.”
“Hey bro I know how to say Volvo...my family drives one.”
“Whatever dude.”
“Whatever dude.”

For serious. I have this argument on tape to this day.

Side note: I was in journalism and I carried around this tape recorder recording quotes for articles or whatever. For some reason I wanted to record one of our conversations. Maybe to listen to later on and analyze Matt’s strategy in order to ascertain a weakness in his argument model. Now that I think about it....that was kind of weird.

Then there would be this weirdness between us. You know the kind. The intangible, I-don’t-hate-you-but-I-don’t-really-like-you-right-now-and-I-probably-won’t-make-eye-contact-with-you-for-a-while type of weirdness that you have with any good friend from time to time.

I guess this would bother some people. But I knew that, come lunch time, I would make him laugh by being an idiot or he would make me laugh by saying something incredibly stupid yet incredibly funny.

Sometimes he would make these faces if he knew you were looking at him. He would make a face without looking at you and all you could think was, “you are an idiot”, and then promptly bust up laughing. I hated it when he did that. Especially when I was trying to maintain a cruel and solemn countenance in order to let him know that I was displeased with his contradicting me earlier on in the day.

It never worked.

And if by some chance we argued after lunch then I could count on Mr. Hurst’s 7th period CAD class to reunite the two tragically severed souls (Mr. Hurst was one of those teachers that seemed to have been handmade for the soul purpose of being tormented by smartass high school students). The cool thing was that he knew we were idiots but he also liked us because we were funny. We made him laugh and made him really mad for disrupting the class all at the same time. We were walking a razor sharp edge with a strong student/teacher bond on one side and a trip to the principles office on the other. To walk that edge was a skill learned over time. Rest assured I used my new found skill in other classes as well...I suppose that’s another story.

Looking back I remember there being a change in class. Things got...I don’t know darker maybe. It wasn’t just my CAD class. It was the second half of my Senior year.

When you’re a teenager in High school there is a lot of confusion. A lot of frustration with the way things are in your world and maybe a dose of helplessness since you can’t really change or do anything about it.

Years later I’m sitting here at my computer working on something inconsequential listening to a song that catapults me back to a time past....a time back then. It’s a song...well it’s a sad song. Some people would say it’s a happy song but it’s not. It was a song that was played at Matt’s funeral.

You see Matt got Leukemia late in his Junior year. It went into remission. We thought it was good. We thought it was fine. But then it resurfaced his Senior year. Not that that meant anything to us as his friends. People can’t die when they’re teenagers. It just doesn’t happen. You might as well ignore it.

“Where’s Matt?”
“Oh he’s sick again. It’s nothing big. He’ll be back soon I’m sure.”

I remember taking trips to the hospital to see Matt. Seeing him like that...all bloated from the Chemotherapy. Yellowish in complexion. It was like reality was trying to works it's cruel, eye opening fingers into our teenage worlds to show us that life is unforgiving and life is hard. It never really worked though. It never really made it into our concepts of reality. Not yet anyway.

And then one morning we all got a call from the school counselor. I don’t suppose I need to tell you what she said. It didn’t really mean anything to me at that moment. All I felt was numbness and confusion. Actually I didn't feel confusion...just numbness. Dad asked me if I wanted to stay home. I said no.

No that’s cool. I’ll just go to school and act like nothing happened. It’s all good.

I got to school and the 4 of us guys just kind of looked at each other.

“Did you hear?”
“Yeah I heard.”

That’s it. What else were we supposed to say?

They called Matt’s Senior class into the library...for what exactly I can’t remember. I guess to make the announcement. We all stood there looking at each other. Actually it was the whole class looking at us. Matt’s friends. Waiting for something. I don’t know what. What are you guys looking at? What are you waiting for?

And then I looked over at Aaron and he looked at me and by some force of nature that was beyond us we were drawn into each others arms and we started crying. The dam of numbness was opened and a 100,000 pounds of reality poured out on my head right then and there. And then I felt arms around me. At first it was our two other close friends but then it was the whole class.

Oh. This is what you were waiting for.

Those long groping tendrils of reality finally found us. Consider the disillusionment shattered.

Reality: 1
Disillusionment: 0

That was so long ago. So long ago. I don’t remember how my relationship began with Matt. I don’t remember exactly how it ended either. All I can remember was what we had in-between. That’s all that matters when you think about it. It's like an Oreo cookie maybe. It's really the frosting that you care about. The black stuff is just a delivery device. Beginnings and endings are like bookends. They hold what's really important to you in-between.

They say that Matt’s dad was with him the final hour he was alive. They say right before he died he squeezed his dad’s hand as if to say goodbye.

As if to say I’ll see you later.

I never got to say goodbye to Matt. But I know I’ll say hello again to him someday.

“Hey Matt...it’s good to see you!”
“You to Nathan!”
“Hey bro you want to hang with Jesus?”
“Yeah dude!”
“Cool...

...can I get a ride?”
---------------------

Goodbye Matt.

Brave New World

Last night I saw the sleeper movie of 2005. “The Island”. I saw the trailer for this movie online a while ago and decided I wanted to see it but never really heard about it again until yesterday when I saw it playing in the cheap theaters. It was a small child nestled between the monolithic giants of the summer silver screen I guess. It’s weird though I felt like there was a good amount of money that was poured into this film. Look at the cast list alone and you can see that.

Think Aldus Huxley’s “Brave New World”. The Island is a poignant commentary on some of today’s toughest scientific and moral questions. But they’re questions that need to be wrestled with if we’re to continue on the path we’re currently striding down. I can’t really divulge much else without giving away too much. If you check out the trailer you can probably figure out a enough and if you have read Huxley’s thought provoking work you can put it together.

Now this is the conspiracy theorist in me: I wonder if somehow the scientific community has enough clout with the Hollywood community to sway how much publicity a movie gets. I believe it’s only a matter of time before the issues that are presented in this movie are real issues we’ll be facing. Thus I could see large corporations that have something to gain from the technology discussed in the film using their corporate weight to push this movie through the money-making machine we as the consumer have created a bit quicker than other movies we’ve seen this summer. Just some off-the-wall but intriguing thoughts....I think.

Anyway great film direction. Great art direction. Great film processing. Great visual effects and even better action sequences. Only quips about the film: 1) The pacing drags just slightly in the middle but wasn’t a serious issue for me. 2) For a second there I thought the movie was going to end with the premise that the pinnacle of human existence is experiencing sex. Don’t get me wrong, this was a clean movie, but...well just watch the film.

I Think I Saw Jesus Last Night

I wonder if he saw me?

I was standing in line at St. Marks' last night with a friend when a man walked in. He had long brown hair, probably mid back length with a beard and slight wrinkles on his face. Not old man wrinkles but wrinkles that serve as a sign of the weathered life he had thus far lived. He wasn't old, just weathered. I didn't take much note of him until he came up to the line and asked if "any one owned the sweet VW bus parked outside...their lights are on". He said it with a smile. Not the, I-am-looking-polite-but-I-really-don't-want-to-be-right-now smile we all have. Or the I'm-smiling-on-the-outside-but-I'm-not-on-the-inside-type smile we know we use sometime. It wasn't even a I'm-a-friendly-guy-and-so-I'll-smile-for-you-all type of smile. It had some other quality to it. Something different. It was a smile that was driven by an inner peace that has been found somewhere within the depths of his soul. A smile that's driven by a peace about one's self and one's place in this world. A peace-about-the-way-things-are-in-general type of smile. A smile that seemed to say that he was happy to be where he was at that very moment and to be with all of us strangers in this very place at this very time in history. I don't know...maybe I'm reading into things but those were my thoughts.

He was wearing one of those oversized llama wool South American type of shirts, sweat shop free I'm sure, some weird patterned pants that didn't match and what looked like tall rubber boots, the type you would see a fisherman wearing, as if to say that that whole promise not to flood the world thing was just a joke and that he was ready for hell and high water with his huge rubber boots. I don't know...maybe I'm reading into things but those were my thoughts.

I didn't have time to deconstruct all of this at the moment of course. After realizing I had no cash at a cash only type establishment I had to turn to my friend and engage in a "hey could you spot me until I can get some money" type of thing. I looked back and the fashionably challenged, coffee shop Jesus was sitting at a table in the middle of the room reading a book. I didn't read the title but I'm sure it was something along the lines of a “Loving People and Saving the World All While Promoting Small Businesses, Shunning Sweat Shops and Promoting Fair Trade" type of book. Or a "How to Hang With Movie Stars and Other Rich and Famous People While Maintaining a Fashionably Poor, Minimalist and Free-Spirited Lifestyle....For Dummies" book. I could even see him reading a slightly militant, "How to Break Up Parties With Home Made Weapons Such as Wips & The Like" type book. I don't know...maybe I'm reading into things but those were my thoughts.

Later on that night as I was laying in bed unable to sleep, thinking about my unexpected exposure to Jesus. I wondered what it would look like to come into a coffee shop and sit down face to face with Him. What would He say to me? If I walked in and the 2,000 year old carpenter was sitting there I don't think I would sit. I would be overwhelmed with everything in my life that made me unworthy to sit at his table. To sip lattes with the barrista of the universe. My only choice would be to walk up to His table fall to my knees grab onto his rubber clad calf and cry into His impenetrable knee high boots.

This would be kind of embarrassing to me if it wasn’t Jesus I was holding onto. He obviously wouldn’t be embarrassed. He would sit their with a small smile on His face. Not a, I-pity-you-and-your-embarrassing-emotional-outburst type of smile but a I-love-you-more-than-you-will-ever-know-even-though-you-do-wrong-more-often-than-you-do-right type of smile.

He would place a rough hand on my shoulder and hold on firmly, as if to keep me from spiraling into a black emotional abyss. As if to remind me that it was Him who created the world around me but He’s also the one who sought me out when I was lost.

And my mouth would open and words would come out. Whether I wanted them to or not they would come. I would apologize for being a sinner. I would say I was sorry for being such an asshole and then I would apologize for swearing but tell Him that’s what I am. And He would say that’s ok. Not so much a it’s-ok-if-you-swear type of ok but a I-understand-your-need-to-use-strong-terms type of ok. And a I-can-and-have-forgiven-you-for-all-of-this type of ok.

I would tell Him that I was sorry for not caring about others and not caring about whether they would die and go to hell if they didn’t know about Him. He would involuntarily squeeze my shoulder at this point, not because He’s angry but because what I’ve just told Him hurts Him more than words could say. But He would quickly recover because He knows there’s hope. He would see it in my heart and He would see it in my soul. He would see what I cannot. At least that's what I'm hoping. He would whisper something in my ear. I’m not sure what He would say but I’m sure it would be meaningful. Powerful. Heartfelt.

And as I cry into his knee I would tell Him how much it hurts to not have mom here. How much I missed her. I would tell Him that I didn’t understand why things had to happen the way they did. Why things have to be the way they are. I don’t think He would really say anything to me. I think He would just sit there with His God hand on my shoulder and cry with me. Because Jesus doesn’t have to have all the answers. I mean He does have all of them but that’s not what makes Him who He is. That’s not what makes Him God. All He has to do is be there. And everything is ok. That’s the power He has I guess. That’s the intangible Jesus factor I suppose.

I would like to think that we would talk long into the night...at least until closing time. It wouldn’t all be about spiritual stuff either. We would talk about everything. Both heavy and important and light and inconsequential. Cause that’s just how Jesus rolls. When God walked with Adam I don’t think they were talking about anything super important. At least not all the time. They were probably talking about what Adam was planning on calling those things that fly through the air as if they didn’t weight anything. Or those things that slip through the water like torpedoes. What about those things that have really long necks and spots? Those guys need names too. He would probably ask if Adam caught that awesome sunset the evening prior. “Hey Adam did you see that man? That was a ridiculous sunset!” He would then say in kind of a proud, slightly boasting way, “Yeah....I made that”.

I wonder if everything would be better after my talk with God? I wonder if everything would be set right? I don’t know what would change but I know it would feel good to just sit and talk.

I saw Jesus last night. I wonder if He saw me?

I don't know...maybe I'm reading into things but those were my thoughts.

Obsession Never Sounded So Sweet

You ever have a song that you've had for a while that you didn't really listen to when you first got it, it never really captured you or anything, and then discover it later on and all of a sudden you can't stop listening to it?

That's what's happening to me right now.

I'm going insane....and I can't stop.

What's the definition for obsessive compulsive?

How do straight jackets feel?

Thought Provoking Question #251

Why do people who shop at health food stores look so unhealthy?

Hmmmmmmm.

Point A to B

I climbed Grays and Torreys this weekend.