I like to consider myself a pretty friendly guy. I am always on the lookout for strangers who I think will talk to me, especially if I can spot something that we have in common. I’m not talking about someone who has the same shoes as me or someone who is wearing an In-N-Out t-shirt. I look for bigger connections that show more evidence of a lifestyle. When I see a mom or dad out with four or five kids, I have an instant conversation starter. If I suspect someone is a teacher, I’ll chat for a minute or two. (They are really easy to find if you know how to eavesdrop the right way.) When I see someone wearing a Biola University sweatshirt, I always say hi. That backfired today.
I know that for the past several years my hair has been...changing. In order to really notice it, you have to be either behind me or really tall, because the biggest change is taking place in the back. Okay, maybe there is a little gray around the edges, but you have to really study it to see it. I don’t think I have any wrinkles and my belly is still well above my belt, so I can’t imagine how this happened.
It all started as I wandered around Sea World with the family today. I had my five young kids with me and my charming trophy wife. We looked like the perfect picture of a youngish family who clearly had two dogs back at home and more than one bunk bed in the house. How anyone could have mistaken me for old is beyond me, but it happened.
I spotted her approaching about 50 yards ahead of me. As we got near, I could clearly see that her sweatshirt did indeed say Biola University in large block letters. I’m guessing she was a product of a public school who had reformed and chosen to attend a fine Christian university as a way of cleansing her soul from all that she had lived through as a child because the mistake she made could only be the result of a poor education early in life. As we drew near, I turned to her and asked, “Do you attend Biola?”
She replied with a smile and said, “Yes.” But she didn’t stop there. Perhaps she should have because the next words out of her mouth were words that she probably wished she could have sucked back in, kinda like when you ask the heavy woman about her due date. (Brian Regan fans are no doubt pondering pandas at the zoo right now.)
There are countless things she could have said after informing me that she was indeed a current Biola student. She could have said, “Oh, did you go there too?” or “Do you know someone there?” She could have even said, “Yes, because Jesus loves me and has a wonderful plan for my life.” Anything would have been better than what she said. Keep in mind that I am not that old. My oldest son is nine. That puts him nine years away from college. So why did she respond to my inquiry by saying, “Yes, do you have kids there too?”
Kids in college! Me? Do I really look old enough to have kids in college? Notice she didn’t say “a kid.” She said “kids.” As in more than one. Of course, I wisely turned the inner voice off and instead used the outer voice to say, “Oh, no. My wife and I went there about 14 or 15 years ago.”
Of course, I never even slowed down after that. The damage was done so I just kept on walking and hoped she wouldn’t turn around to catch a glimpse of my “changing” hair.
