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Stephanie called mid afternoon and asked if I wanted to do anything, since it was the last night I had in PHX before my birthday. She took me to a coffee shop because we were too early for our reservations. She ordered her hot chocolate, and I ordered my coffee. She was swirling her eyes at the guy behind the counter, and he agreed by swirling his eyes around too. These people are insane.

He slid a mug of dirt across the table. What is that? Stephanie quoted our favorite comedian, “It’s a cup with dirt in it.” I laughed so hard I almost hit my head on the counter. He slid an envelope across the table. I opened it up and pulled out a note and an eye-cover. “Order your coffee to go, and get ready for tonight’s adventure.”

I was trying to figure out where we were going because PHX is a mapped on a grid. But a song on the radio distracted me. After fifteen minutes of asphalt, we stopped. The blind man fumbled out of the car. I smelled fire…how nice she built a fire in a park. She lifts off my mask and I am standing in some stranger’s house. SURPRISE!

Every person should organize one surprise party in their lifetime. That way, almost everyone could experience what I did last night.

:::

So I am twenty-four years old…nearly a quarter of a century. In high school people wondered how I would ever enjoy being young without having sex. I wondered how they would ever enjoy being young when they dispense their dignity.; Now people wonder why I don’t build an American dream. I wonder why they’ve bought into such a shallow illusion of success.

I’ve spent a lifetime trying to be a good Christian. I’ve sacrificed and suffered, but I have loved and laughed. Why would I not serve God with the rest of my life?

I can’t sleep. I read a line out of a book Candyce bought me for my birthday, and I can’t stop thinking about it. One questions asks so much, sorts out our past, shakes our present, and opens up our future.

If there could be rednecks in New York, then I think I found them. I was in Wal Mart outside of New York City a couple summers ago, and I walked in behind three guys who were learning how to strut. They swayed and jolted so much, their two groupies had to stand a foot away just so they wouldn’t be knocked over.

They stopped to make fun of the display of ‘N Sync posters, calendars, and back-to-school stuff. The girls gave them a half smile and they went on strutting on into their life. I laughed to myself, because the girls looked back to get a second look at the poster, a glimpse of life outside of Wal Mart.

I made my way to the back of the store to look at car magazines, and I remembered a story Chris Kirkpatrick from ‘N Sync told me. A company asked him if they could put his image on a phone card. If they made money, he’d get a big cut, if they didn’t he didn’t lose a dime. He nodded his head. They sold the phone cards.

Chris made $1,000,000, and counting. And he’ll never meet the three rednecks that don’t think he’s cool, he’s too busy living his life. Like going to his high school’s ten-year anniversary.

Chris told me he was excited to see everyone again, and would have bodyguards and all if things got out of hand. A few months later in at the People’s Choice Awards in L.A., I asked him how the reunion went. He quickly smiled, and explained how he signed autographs for people who used to make fun of him.

:::

I can’t sleep. I read a line out of a book Candyce bought me for my birthday, and I can’t stop thinking about it. One questions asks so much, sorts out our past, shakes our present, and opens up our future:

I was in Wal Mart the last time I was home in Georgia. I ran into a kid from my freshman year geometry class. Though he was a little awkward then, he’s grown up to be a pretty good guy who’s fun to talk to. I’d never have guessed he would go onto college and would now be an airplane engine mechanic. I leaned onto my cart of Christmas presents while we caught up on how everyone is doing from our high school.; I was disappointed. I hoped more of those kids would get out of that boring little town and make something of themselves. But no, they are just spinning their tires in the same red clay.

I don’t care, I got out and my life rocks. My life has nothing to do with that little town. It’s a place I am proud to be from, and proud to not live in. I’ve traveled around the country and the world and lived out adventures I only dreamed of. I’ve met so many beautiful people…beautiful women. And this life is only beginning.

I know the good life, and I want others to live it too. I will do everything I can to keep others from being held back. Too many bright minds, good hearts, and talented people get caged, and their gifts rot away. So many young people lose themselves in the endless game of being cool, gambling their futures for four fleeting years of approval.

I’ve never watched a news anchor ask George W. Bush, “Mr. President, did others think you were cool in high school?” I am sure Sadaam Hussien and his boys think George is annoying, but that doesn’t keep W from being the best president he can be.

One questions asks so much, sorts out our past, shakes our present, and opens up our future:

“Who are ‘they’ that they have so much influence on your life?”

“Though I’ve never met her, I seemed to have fallen for her. I can’t imagine our relationship won’t work out.” I looked over to Buddy, Father’s Shetland sheepdog, and he seemed skeptical yet curious, like me.

The television announces that he and she are set to meet in just a week. I leaned back in my recliner, ready to see everything and nothing to happen. Neither of today’s online friends were particularly attractive or interesting, so it was difficult to imagine chemistry between the two of them. I have an advantage because I meet them both before they do. I was embarrassed and curious all at the same time. Why am I watching this stupid show…what is it called, “elove”? I know Buddy won’t tell anyone. He’d rather lick is own butt.

They were both simple people recovering from broken relationships, and wanted new romance and companionship. They met each other through an online dating service and have been in touch for almost a year. His photo is hung in her Montreal apartment, and she’s smiling on his ‘fridge in Nottingham, UK. I smiled almost as much as they did, reading over their shoulder, listening in ion their phone calls. I had to! It was really sweet seeing how much they liked each other. Look at that, she’s even become great friends with his mother.

To quote television from my childhood, “this just might be crazy enough to work.”

Before and after commercial breaks were videotaped personals of people just old enough not to get picked on by jocks or excluded by popular girls. I don’t want to be a jerk, but they sure were dorks. Their requests were not demanding or discriminating. I want to meet someone who likes to dress up to enjoy formal affairs. I am looking for someone who enjoys laughing and small romantic experiences together. I need a confident man who can hold a conversation, and hold me. But what happens when she who loves to dance is also obsessive compulsive? Or the man who can finally make her laugh also makes her cry?

I don’t know…the web is a tangled place to meet people.

In Ohio a couple weeks ago, a teen asked me what I thought of Internet relationships. I told her that God can move in mysterious ways and that maybe you could make a friend online, but I question how well people can get to know each other through emails and chatting. I told her that a friend of mine in college fell for a girl through all the cutesy company of AOL IM. Their relationship was a lonely-hearts club. The teen nodded, trying to understand. A young adult agreed, “people who fall for people online usually make the other person out to be their dream date because they never really have to meet them and be disappointed.” You fall in love with the idea of someone, not the real person.

But still there is a way for the millions of people to get to know each other without even leaving your house, and that’s cool. I mean, I was born and raised in a farmhouse, and the only girls I knew were the few in my tiny school. I was so happy when we got pen-pals in the fourth grade. It was my chance to get to know someone who didn’t share my pencil sharpener or ride my bus. But how can we realistically date people online?

You can line up resumes/spec’s and agree that these two people could and should be a match. I’ve tried that. Everyone in our high school did. What else was there to do in the backwoods? We all answered questions, that were would reveal our priorities and personality types. On Friday of that week, they published the results in the school newspaper. The school went wild. Every student grabbed a paper and scanned the results, hoping to get set up with their crush. I was matched with two girls I knew but wasn’t really friends with. We smiled at each other in the hall then chatted, a quick agreement that this just a silly thing for the school paper.

But then again, Jason matched up with Lauri, and Lauri matched up with Jason. That didn’t surprise anyone because they had been going out since freshman year. They graduating at the top of their class and went to college together. They married, and he is a dentist in my hometown.

Who knows?

Friday flight to Twin Cities:

“$1500 is how much I paid for a shirt when I was your age. Maybe a little older. Beautiful shirts, embroidery and cuffs…”

He looked down onto his stack of plates, two shirts, and knickknacks. His eyes connected with his wife. She nodded, proud but matter of fact. “That was 1974 and I rode bulls. That’s the life I lived.” He traded a five dollar bill for a white plastic bag of his goods and pushed through the doors into the parking lot.

He must’ve noticed the plaid buckaroo shirt I grabbed from the dollar rack on my way to the counter to pay for my desk chair. I paid six and stepped into the parking lot of worn cars, dirty tires and bubbling window tint. I slid into my seat and powered the windows down to let out the heat, turned up the radio and went on with my life.

That was over six months ago an adventure into ghetto thrift stores just to see what I’d find. The nifty 70’s office chair sits proud and orange in my living room. But I can’t stop thinking about that quick conversation with the retired cowboy.

In middle school, I figured I would meet my soulmate right out of high school and live happily ever after. In high school, I hoped I’d meet her my junior year of college and get married when we graduated. Once I became junior in college, I realized I needed to look more if I was going to make my deadline. I went on the Real World instead.

And it seems like at every age, people get more self-centered and believe that “they aren’t ready to get married yet.” They say they want to live for themselves, and that I noticed, but they really haven’t met the right person yet. I hear thirty-year-old people saying that and I know they are lying. Their life is ticking away and they are lonely as hell.

Well I am buying a house. That’ s what grown ups do, not me. My 24th birthday is coming up. It’s the first birthday I am not excited about, or at least indifferent. 21, 22, 23, but 24 means I am not a kid anymore. I liked being ahead of my age, and now it’s hard to stay ahead of 24.

This is the real life age when people really start getting married. Some jumped the gun out of high school or in college or right after college. But I am in that singles’ scene where people are crossing their fingers, off to meet another friend of a friend.

I like the idea of marriage if it’s to the right girl. But the thought of marriage because that is what people do, that makes me mad. I would rather be homeless than be married to a quarrelsome woman. My life is too good to mess up with a misplaced ring.

Marriage isn’t a stage in life. It’s not an accomplishment or a coming of age either. Marriage is a God-given vocation. This is your purpose for living…to live for another.

Not only that, I’ve got stuff to do. I’ve become who I am partly because I’ve not wasted my time on stupid relationships. Why doubt now? I am on the home stretch.

And if I’m not, that’s fine too.