1000:1 The Ruse

In my last 1000:1, I intentionally failed to disclose one part of my spring break. My trip down to Texas was better than I deserve. My friends/professors overflowed in their hospitality. During the week I relived the same calendar week from last year with an informal gathering at Judy Dodd’s house remembering Daryl. It was painful, calming, and reaffirming all at the same time. We gathered for wine, food and memories. The trip was exactly the refocusing agent I needed.

I did not mention that my spring break had two parts. One was indeed the 2400 miles on the road down to Texas and back. However, I put in an additional 700 miles once I returned to Chicago. Three weeks before embarking to Texas, my aunt called and asked me to come home the last weekend of break for a surprise 50th birthday party she, another aunt, and friends would throw for my parents. The best part about the party: it wasn’t a birthday for either of them! My Dad had his last August and my Mom has hers this coming November. Retrospectively, the idea to split the difference between the dates was genius! They had no idea!

Before divulging the elaborate surprise, I have to exegete the above picture. While the exposure is a little harsh (thanks Becky) and causes the bare skin to shine a little too much for my taste, I need to credit my aunt Becky for liberating me from camera-duty (THANKS BECKY!) and letting me enjoy the party. You’ll notice the two men on the left. Many non-familiar observers undoubtedly question which gentleman is me; I’m the one in the black shirt. No, the other black shirt. Hehehe. [More on the shirts below!] From left to right is my dad (Dan), me, my mom (Kate) and my brother (Luke). Those readers with keen eyes can also distinguish a genetical pattern; Luke especially hopes evidence of this continues. Through the years, people see more of my dad in me and my mom in Luke. Our facial structures cause this identification. The hair continues in a similar manner — enough said.

The party began with Desi, a family friend from church, alerted my parents she was throwing a wine party for PEO and church people. Unbeknownst to the parents, my aunts Peg and Terri were also in on the hoax! When the invites came through e-mail the gauntlet was thrown: my parents would be at the door greeting people and as everyone entered it would hopefully take a lot of time before they realized all of the people shouldn’t have had a common reason for being there. Desi was so convincing in her initial sell that my mom offered to bring brownies — to her own party!

The event could not have been executed with any more precision. As my parents tell it, with every arrival they internally justified why each person showed up. There were too many factors for them to comprehend the scope in advance, however. Every person who entered the door was wearing black. The priceless moment was when my mom realized this, still couldn’t figure it out, and blamed my dad for getting the message and her being oblivious!

The ruse continued until family members from Fairfield (2.5 hour drive from home) entered. At that point they new something was up, but still had no idea what. All of a sudden people started singing Happy Birthday; my dad laughed, thought it was for my mom, and joined it. It wasn’t until everyone sang both names that the scales came off. It was perfect.

Now fast-forward five minutes and my brother and I are still avoiding the party. We knew when we entered, but especially when I did, that the game was finished. My parents knew I was in Chicago and had no clue I was in a holding pattern at my aunt’s and uncle’s house. My brother and I waited a time, drove to the party and as we pulled up we saw a church friend (Mark Durham) walking up to the clubhouse. When he saw me in my brother’s passenger seat, I lifted my finger to my mouth and he stopped in his tracks, did a double-take and his mouth dropped open in shock. He smiled and entered, keeping the secret. My brother parked, we looked at each other, looked at the car in front of us and listened to two more songs on his iPod before getting out. I wish I had a video of it. When we entered my parents were already in-the-know, but my mom’s eyes teared up since my presence took it to a new level. It was a perfect moment.

The weekend as a whole was fun since, besides reconnecting with friends at the party, I also abstained a week from my first-year church-hopping for Divinity School, and returned to my home congregation. They are the people who helped shape my calling and every visit home reaffirms it. There is something about home congregations: they often influence you without them or you being cognizant of it; but memory and a re-examination of history clarifies the process. Speaking of which … some congregation members reminded me of my sophomore year of high school — I’ve changed!

Oh, before I wrap this up … the shirts: my dad’s shirt is definitely navy. It’s a shade of blue. It may have been the lighting at the party, or perhaps the wine, but the color was often unclear. And also, before you pay me one of the biggest compliments by saying I even dress like my dad, recognize there’s a reason the dark colors. Without hair on the tops or sides of the head, clothing is the most efficient way to add contrast, which hopefully slims up and shapes the face! But yes, we are very similar — and I love it!