Sunday Uber and Rides

I am writing this late on Monday. Mondays are my weekend-like days, as I have little to do on Monday morning as all the working folks are back to work. I sleep in and go slow. I did hear this morning that someone took the pride flag that hangs on the side of First United Methodist Church here in Beaverton and, from what I can tell, broke the pole. I have more. While the violence is disturbing and makes you want to react, I just supply a new flag and pole. This abused pole and flag Z and I put up as the old Pride flag was worn out (a fantastic moment that one lasted that long). Apparently, the pole needs to be replaced. I have more. I ordered more.

This is a “turn the cheek” moment and a time to remember to check your reaction. We don’t call the police or put up cameras, and I try to convince my fellow churchgoers not to glue the pole in or make it harder to take the flag. The folks who plan to do violence will just do it; it’s best to let them get it over with quickly and not frustrate them.

I tell people it was not stolen, but someone needed it. We are happy to help them; we are a church anyway. I will continue to buy flags (poles, mounts, and so on), replace the lost ones, and smile when I see our Pride Celebration flag (the rainbow flag with the check) when I visit or drive by First United Methodist Church in Beaverton next to the park and fountain across from the library—a very public space.

The flags disappear primarily on holidays. The flags seem to fade from people’s consciousness during the months after I replace them. A holiday visitor, I believe, points them out to a local, and (with the help of various booze and other substances) the angry people find the courage to rob a church and commit violence in a public place.

I am ready to replace the flag. I ordered more; I suspect we will need a few for the holiday season. I usually put a set in Air Volvo to quickly get them in place for the services. I will be out of town and give them to Dondrea or Jack to prepare. There will be a Pride Celebration flag for the holidays.

So far, the violence has not escalated. I can afford lots of flags.

Starting the blog about Sunday very late this Monday, I rose early to write the blog. I was a bit staggered because I had done the Cindy Lauper concert the night before with Joan. We had a great time, and the music was terrific. I am learning that Gayle, the opening band and singer, is well known for her ABCEFU song. Waking tired made the morning more difficult, but soon, I found coffee, a banana, and a slice of pumpkin pie (my mind claimed this was a veggie side for breakfast). The spices of the pie and the bitterness of the liberal coffee gave me hope that the world will soon focus on Justice, Compassion, and the love of Community. Maybe it is a strange or impossible dream in such a divided country with a new President who promises chaos, but I am always hopeful that a new President will find a way to bring Peace and success to us, We The People. More a prayer with fingers crossed this time, but it is still there with a brave smile and another sip of liberal coffee. It has to get better! Drink deep!

I wrote for two hours and found it easy. The investment produced the required blog that discovered what happened on Saturday. This time, I often had to go back to a previous section and add more as my non-linear memory assembled the bag of events I recall for Saturday. It was an unusually messy process for me this time. The music, I think, made a lovely hash of my memories—excellent.

I dressed in my sweater vest, grey button-down dress shirt, and pride tie and ordered a Lyft ride for more than $20 bucks to get me to the church on time (there is a song there). I was waiting for the ride but canceled it when it was five minutes late, and there were no takers. Four minutes later, Uber had me on my way for $12.

The driver, a gal (I assume a gender for the ease of writing, but I could use ‘they’ instead of ‘she/her’) who told me she was 53, wanted to know how to invest and get comfortable in her 60s like me. Somehow, I am sure you, dear reader, are not surprised we got on the topic of money. I warned her the advice was worth the price she was paying, zero dollars, and would not be anything she had not heard before. I suggested removing all the expenses that seem to creep in with modern life. For example, the extra cable bill that you don’t know what it is and to look at cash flow and try to increase it by reducing all monthly expenses. While evident, most folks have not done it, and if she could get her bills into Quicken or balance her checking account, this would get her attention on the little expenses she can avoid. I told her that modern life means big business is trying to extract money from her, and she needs to resist. Then, invest the money saved in simple things like a CD to get interest. Avoid the schemes and Wall Street, but simple things will work and are simple to understand. But, in contrast, I told her to travel and do the things she always wanted to do now. You will soon be “f**king old,” and you can’t do them. Don’t save them up, but do them now. I told her now I look back to my early fifties as my good health days! Who would imagine that! Go before you are “f**king old.” She seemed to agree, smiled, and waved when she dropped me off. I gave her, later, when I noticed I had not finished the rating and tip, a good rating and a tip.

Church folks were happy to see me, and Jack offered me a ride home. I found a seat and listened. Today, Pastor Ken was covering one of the most hopeful texts in the Hebrew text of the Bible, Micah 4:

And he shall judge between many peoples and reprove mighty nations afar off; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nations shall not lift the sword against nation; neither shall they learn war anymore.

http://www.chabad.org translation

Our sermons have been on Micah for weeks now. By this time, I am mightily tired of it, as the first three sections are convictions and punishment. Finally, I am happy to get to the lovely parts, Micah 4.

Pastor Ken dwelled on the text, and that is not talking about geography or a map of the end times, as some Hollywood and other groups would suggest, but about the Word of God finally reaching humankind, being accepted, war ending, and folks restored to their rightful homes. The high place mentioned in the text Ken tells us is about respect given to the Word, not a physical location.

Pastor Ken points out that we are captive to our self-defined weapons and must beat our faults into something useful. He calls out gossip. He says we must put our ‘sword’ down and discard things like privilege. We, too, need to accept the instruction from Zion. The lovely Hebrew words of Micah 4 come with a lesson.

I remember a 1970s sci-fi story in which the Bionic Women, I think, faced a Doomsday machine and failed to stop it. The death machine tripped, but instead of some super-hero-like solution, the computer rolled out a large stone with the words of Micah on it. In this story, the peace-loving man who built it, who the world believed had built a world-ending nuclear weapon, only wanted to scare mankind into finding peace before it was too late. A forgotten Cold War story, but how I learned the words of Micah. I also saw the words on a brass plate on the Lebanon border in 1994. The words are important to me.

I had coffee at the church and suddenly had an eye aura, the hallmark of a massive migraine. F**k. I need to rest in the dark, possibly throw up, and sleep. Jack gets me home while I can see using half my vision. I get some water and lie down, expecting a terrible couple of hours. The water worked, and the aura faded, but the other side is now painful (over-correction and the brain surgery likely made things different).

I figure baked beans with some bacon will either stay in or leave quickly, so I make that on the stove. The beans are heated in a pan, and the bacon is fried. I am surprised by how hungry I am and that it remains settled. The headache is still there, but it is small. I start watching the Christmas movie Die Hard. The headache gets worse.

I need more rest. Deborah is free for a while, and we chat, but I freeze. I rest more, climb in warm covers, and turn up the heat. I am finally able to function. I did laundry: two loads in The Machine. Dishes are done. Dinner is a salad with me chopping veggies, a chicken thigh from yesterday, and some bacon.

Deborah booked her flight to Oregon in February. Exciting! We have no travel plans in January, but NOLA has early parades with the local krewes in mid-January. Maybe. March is booked for Deborah’s work trip to California, with an extra week for visiting. I updated my calendar for all these trips. Exciting. The headache fades.

I read at 10, showered, put on my PJs, and slept. I set an alarm for 4 and sent Deborah a ‘good morning’ for her busy Monday morning. She is happy to get the text but tells me to go back to sleep. I do. Thanks for reading!