Rewind: The Journey Begins

05/09/10

7:45 AM Finished packing. No joke. I’m a night owl and procrastinator. I just can’t seem to help myself.

12:00 PM I wake to my mother calling. She’s dropping off my car. Good thing too I forgot my rain gear in it.

I hop out of bed. Throw some clothes on. I go down to meet my mom. She tells me to be careful. I tell her not to worry. Still I find that I’m still always a little short with her. It’s unfair I know. Things are pretty friendly these days, but it’s hard to break old habits. An awkward goodbye and I head back inside.

1:25 PM I finally roll out of bed to meet Roy Lahnam. Last Check, Bags, Shoes, Potty…Bags.

I hobble down my stairs with a carry-on and my messenger bag.

“Sorry I had to do a last minute once over.” I apologize.

Considering the nature of the trip I’m surprised to find Roy lying across my front stoop basking in the sun.

“No problem. We’ve got plenty of time.” he replies. “This is it? You might be our lightest packer.”

“Lightest? That’s a first.” My mind drifts towards the half a dozen times I paid for overweight luggage, carrying 40lbs+ for a two week trip.

He scoops himself up and dusts himself off. He’s wearing a faded polo, khakis that ride just a little short on his lanky frame, and a broad smile. We climb into the maroon passenger van and begin our journey.

Our conversation is all over the place. We talk about rock climbing, work, football, seminary, past regrets, missed opportunities. As we near Bloomington Roy asks me to give Jason a call.

“Good afternoon Jay this is your ride calling. We have here that we should be picking you up at Sherrington.” I say in my best customer service impersonation.

“Sherrington? Oh that’s my parents place don’t go there.” He delivers simple and clear directions.

We miss the turn regardless.

As we pull up Jay is standing on his balcony directing air traffic. He’s a big guy, older than I expected late 20s early 30s perhaps? He’s got a neatly trimmed goat and I can guess by his visor that he hunts.

We head up to his apartment. As I walk in there is a Picasso on the wall. The place t smells like blackberries and vanilla and is home to a 9ft Burmese Python and a Picasso and a lot of hunting gear. His roommate is sweet and apologetic as she unnecessarily tidies up.

We load the van up with his luggage and boxes and boxes of work shoes he got as a donation.