Inner Beauty Only Goes So Far

I also witnessed something else this weekend that I’m afraid I’m just going to have to go off on. I mentioned a billboard advertising Maidenform bras in these ponderings before. This weekend I saw those same advertisements on the sides of buses in downtown Chicago. The ads feature well tanned (aka, future skin cancer victims), skinny, women wearing (what else?) nothing but their underwear. The caption reads, “Inner Beauty only goes so far.” A blatant lie. As soon as I can find an address to send a letter to, I’ll be writing this company to complain. I’d like to see a poster of those same models when they’re 40 with a caption reading “Outer Beauty doesn’t last.” I’d like to see the advertising executives who came up with this campaign tell their daughters inner beauty only goes so far. Explain that one when their daughter can’t get a date. Explain that one when their daughter is one of the 3 out of 5 teenage girls who suffer from some type of eating disorder. Explain that one when their daughter is horribly disfigured in an accident. “Inner Beauty only goes so far.” I’ve never heard such a complete and total lie. Is selling bras that important to them?

See So Much More in this World

It seems that life is quite full of choices. The guy sitting behind me on the train seems to have it all figured out. He’s pulling in a cool 80 g’s a year. But is that all it’s worth? Is life just a race for the almighty dollar? That’s not what life is about, yet so many of us think it is. Is making a buck the most important thing on your agenda? Or is bringing a smile to a young child’s face? Impatience, greed, and anger plague us. While standing on the corner I hear horns of impatient drivers blaring all the time. People are not very nice. Perhaps it’s because we have our eyes focused on the fleeting things of this world. I see so much more in this world, won’t you open your eyes and see it too?

Another Day on the Streets of Chicago

Another day on the streets of Chicago, proof that life isn’t always easy. Today was a pretty rough day. My body ached, my bruised palm hurt, and my fingers bled. And you thought a yo-yo was a toy. Yesterday I was hustled by some kids, today I was robbed. Well, not really. They tried to. Four eight year old kids decided it would be fun to spend their Saturday running up and down Michigan Avenue harassing people. First they tried to use my spare yo-yo’s, against my will of course. Then they took off with the yo-yo’s. I trusted they’d come back, and they did. Next they tried to take off with my money. They grudgingly came back. For the next hour and a half they kept coming back and bugging me. Sometimes you just want to strangle kids.

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Experiences as a Yo-Yoing Street Performer

Life is hard on the streets. A hard days work for a hard day’s money. For everybody but me! I spent the day yo-yoing at the corner of Michigan and Pearson in downtown Chicago. But it’s not all fun and games. I did have to figure out the Chicago Transit Authority bus system, which is never an easy thing to figure out. But you know what I learned? It’s almost faster to walk. After waiting for the bus, and then considering that the bus stops at every stinkin’ corner, it takes just as much time to walk. I also earned myself a few cuts and bruises today. You think yo-yo’s are nice, safe toys, do ya? Well, I got news for you. I usually wrap three of my fingers to save them from string burns and blisters, and today I had to bandage a fourth. I also managed to bruise the palm of my hand. And as if the yo-yo wasn’t giving me enough trouble, I was hustled by a group of kids. They were determined to show me how good they could yo-yo, and were adamant that I pay them for their trouble. Kids. But to be serious, I did receive a few comments that me stop and think. One lady described my yo-yoing as, “real pretty,” which I think says a lot for the yo-yo itself (I can assure you the sweaty kid attached to the yo-yo wasn’t too pretty). Another kid asked what I was majoring in (the sign on my box says, “College Student”). I replied, “Writing.” He tossed a buck in my box and said, “Well write me a book.”

I’m also still loving the public transportation system here in Chicago. Rather than fight traffic for over an hour, I curl up with a book on the Metra. I’ve been reading C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity. Rather than try to recapitulate what Lewis said and really mess it up, I’m just going to tell you to go read his book. It’s a very practical, very honest, and very logical defense of Christianity. Sometimes it’s a little too logical for me, but if you can wade through the deep mental waters, he says some very powerful stuff. Add it to your summer reading list. Oh wait, it is summer. Silly me. Go pick up the book now and read it.

Stranger Danger

What are you looking at? Who do you want to be? Where do you want to go? I see the faces around me, so many confused and lost souls. So many self assured and confident souls. Their lives are in their hands and they know where they’re going. Or so they think. So many cars back up on these city streets, each one has an owner, each one has a story. Each one has a life of their own. Each one has their own hurts, each one has their own joys. Each one doesn’t know me, and could probably care less about me and the thoughts in my head and the hurts in my heart. But I see them and they see me, and the question is do I care about them and the thoughts in their head and the hurts in their heart? This world has become one crazy mess–or maybe it always was and we just hope for something better–where nobody cares about anyone else. How right is that? What kind of humanity is that? Danger stranger keeps us locked behind our doors, I’m scared of you and you’re scared of me. But is that what we’re called to? I walk down the street, and this closed door and mask pulled tight get us nowhere. I dare to knock at the door and pull the mask away. What will happen if we open the door and let one another in, instead of hide behind our metal bars and racial stereotypes? What happens when you cross the line? It’s not exactly what mommy and daddy taught me.

“In God I have put my trust; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?” (Psalm 56:11 NKJV)

Haircuts in Strange Cities

Today the shaggy mass of hair attacking my neck became too much and I had to get a haircut. Getting a haircut in a strange town is always an adventure. Some how describing to another person how you want your hair cut is always an adventure in communication. I usually end up losing. I walked out of there looking like some kind of Ricky Martin wanna be. Thank goodness you can’t screw up my hair that bad–I took a shower as soon as I got home and I was back to my usual self.

Shopping Malls and Yo-Yo Salesmen

Today I found a shopper’s mecca: Woodfield Mall and surrounding area in Schaumberg, Illinois. The mall itself was just nuts. It had three levels, and just about any store you could think of. The whole area certainly rivaled Minnesota’s Mall of America. All Woodfield lacked was an amusement park in the middle. Just about any store you can imagine, or have ever heard of, and even some stores I’ve never heard of were down there. I’ve seen retail explosion around malls before, but this was ridiculous. Every piece of land within a few miles of the mall was crammed full of shopping centers and plazas. I think I saw at least three large bridal shops. America, where retail is king.

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What Else I Hate

Today I saw a bumper sticker that said, “I love smut.” For the first time in my life I was tempted to rear-end somebody.

While I’m on the subject, you know what else I hate. Those Bally’s and Vic Tanny (yeah, I’m probably spelling it wrong) commercials warning you to work off those extra pounds so you’ll look good for the summer. And how do they do it? They show you people working out who should probably stop exercising and eat a little more. Cuz summer’s all about looking sexy on the beach, right? That’s all that matters in life. What happened to exercising just so you’ll feel better? Isn’t that the point? Do we want to be healthy or just skinnier than a rail?

Happy Birthday To Me

Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday dear me, Happy Birthday to me.

Yep, today’s my birthday. And in case you’re worried about me being on my own and not being treated properly on my birthday, feel free to shower me with goodies. But seriously, I’m fine. My parents sent a balloon and a couple boxes of cookies. The more fun thing about having a birthday is that I can talk about it here.

I went downtown and yo-yoed today, and I was tempted to stop in every restaurant and ask if they had any kind of “free food on your birthday” deal. And more than any other birthday in my life (up to this point), I’ve actually been forced to think. I turned 20 today. 20. I’m not a teenager anymore. I’ve been around for two decades. I was born at the end of the seventies. Whoa. But I guess I am still a kid at heart. My mom said I was still a kid when I talked to her tonight. I mean c’mon, I was downtown yo-yoing today. What kind of an adult does that? It still surprises me how old I am. “Kids” like me have fought and died in wars. “Kids” like me have been married with kids of their own. “Kids” like me have changed the world.

And I guess as a true measure of adulthood, I took the train downtown today. Oh the joys of mass transit! Public transportation is just cool. I like to drive, but why fight traffic for over an hour, when I can just sit on my butt and read a book or drift off to sleep? I thought it was pretty cool. More cities need trains like Chicago. Also while I was downtown, I saw the cows! Way cool.

See the Raging Waters

Passion. Intensity. Idealism. The individual. The group. Life. Heartache. Yearning. Longing. Searching. Asking. Trying. Questioning. Action. Hurt. Relief. Wonder. Amazement. Awe. Joy. Sorrow. Loss. Suffering. Sacrifice. Blood, sweat, tears. Puzzlement. Understanding. Belief. Knowledge. Wisdom. Confusion. Doubt. Arrogance. Pride. Contempt. Apathy. Pleasure. Contentment. Faith and the unknown.

I look out my window and see the raging waters. I step out my door and move closer to the surging flood. The water flows, faster than it should, pulling and tugging at everything. It overcomes, it devours, it consumes. And I shall swim upstream.

Life stands before me with so many questions, and so few answers. I turn on the TV and watch a stirring documentary on PBS. The hippies, counter culture, and revolutionists of the sixties and seventies. Where have they gone? Was it simply a revolution of sex, drugs, and rock & roll? What’s the point? You protested your parents’ materialism, racism, and violence, and where are we now? We bombed Saigon, and we bombed Pristina. Where is the life in it all? What does the 40 hours a week get you? Financial security? You call it security, but is it really? Nothing’s certain. There’s no such thing as financial security in this life.

I look back and see your young idealism. Where did it go? In some it’s still alive. In others it’s dim and faded, long since lost in the cobwebs and dust. But I also see your young idealism in the mirror. Will I bow to the same fate? I look about me and wish I could say the same for my generation. In some ways, I can see them waking up. But in other ways, I seem them bowing to the world of freedom and pleasure that you opened for them. Life is one big party, right?

Will this world ever see? Will this world ever understand? Will I ever see? Will I ever understand?

A work-at-home dad wrestles with faith, social justice & story.