i have spent a great deal of time this summer near the ocean.  i have not, as would be assumed, frolicked in the frothy waves.

a storm is passing through these parts and it angers the sea.  the gray waves pound the shore relentlessly, they throw themselves at the sand all hours of the day and night.  they never looked enticing to me in the least until they became large and ugly.  when the sea was placid and blue i walked by indifferently.  on an overcast, cool day, my best friend and i jumped in.

as a human being, i was given no skills short of logic and reason to combat the waves.  we do not belong on the shores, we belong near rivers and in the woods.  i stood in the surf getting pounded by the waves.  they would rise up out of the water, turn down towards me and crash over my body.  i would fall, grabbing at my swimming shorts, and tumble against the sand. 

there was something exhilarating about being pounded by the waves.  there's a point where you feel completely out of control when the sea is angry.  the waves push you too and fro and you struggle to keep your feet planted.  the 18 year old lifeguard sitting 100 yards behind you watching women walk by will do nothing if a wave takes you under and holds you there.
 we sat there suffering for some time.  we let the salt and sand punish us.  after a bit, we walked back to the house with the salt crystallizing on our skin and the sand forging its way into different crevices.  we felt miserable but, if not for suffering, how would we ever know beauty?

a giant, black, spoon has melted onto the dishwasher.  it's one of those broad, serving spoons used dole out mashed potatoes or corn and it was blown around inside of the dishwasher and eventually landed on, what my mother calls, the 'heating element'.  the heating element is a glorified coil at the bottom of the dishwasher which is a box shaped contraption that is located under our kitchen counter and cost a few hundred dollars.  we put dishes inside of it that we wash once in the sink.  this box will toss water around that is made warm by the 'heating element', eventually washing all of our dishes a second time.  after an hour, we can take out our dishes and place them in the cupboard only to remove them again in a few hours to eat.

maybe my dad is right.  we should just use paper plates and plastic silverware.  i couldn't even tell you where the nearest landfill is.

so, i sit here in my cool home (cool in the summer, warm in the winter, thus allowing us to perpetually prance around in short-sleeved shirts and jeans with socks on) just watching my world pass me by.  another day.  i wasted a lot of the morning sleeping and will waste a good chunk of the afternoon deciding what i should do that doesn't waste the rest of the day. 

we're all so comfortable here.  we rented a movie last night and spent a half of an hour trying to figure out how to get the dvd player and the television to talk to one another.  we were holding three remotes, one for the dvd player, one for the tv and the other for the stereo (the television speakers are wired through the stereo).  i sat on the floor pushing buttons and generally feeling frustrated while someone went up to the computer, started it (this is an invention we use to store information and play games that remove us from our reality), and found instructions on the internet (something invented by al gore, former vice president and general dolt).  eventually the movie played.

we watched a story about two people who were in love but very far apart.  the civil war had been their downfall and we learned that men don't have any logic and that two women can work together on a farm and do quite well, even if they do have to overcome a few emotional hurdles along the way.  the movie climaxed with a fight scene that took place in a snowy forest in the south (what?).  the two men shot one another while they were on horses.  i think the women might have cried but i don’t remember.

the movie was called 'cold mountain' but should have been called 'predictable story'. 
 and such is my life.  i'm sitting here, using al gore's invention and listening to that water box hum in the other room just trying to remove the black, plastic, serving spoon from its 'heating element'. 

i'd like to thank all of the people who came to salford mennonite church last sunday night to hear my talk about vietnam.  we had quite a turnout and some interesting discussion. 

i was nervous at first.  how does one go about summing up two years of experiences in 45 minutes of talking, but ended up having a wonderful time talking.  i seem to understand so much more about my experience after i'm forced to digest it verbally.

yesterday i went up to new york city with my best friend.  we boarded the train and, after an hour and a half, found outselves in the middle of manhattan. 

we walked down the streets for hours experiencing sensory overload.  we walked and said little.  we watched people of all shapes, sizes and nationalities go about their business at varied paces.  it was quite an experience.

we sat in central park for a couple of hours just laying on the grass and watching the blue sky.  the buildings framed the park and the trees framed the field we were in.  people sat all about, a dutch couple to our right, a french couple behind us and two new york city men talking about graduate school next to an orange bike.  we sat in the shade made when the beams of light from the sun a few hundred thousand miles away collided with the broad leaves of a tall oak tree.  the shadow was serrated. 

after a day of walking and watching, it was time to head home.  we boarded the train once again and proceeded through the void that is northern new jersey only to arrive somewhere in the middle of the lima bean shaped state to fall asleep in beds that were soft and supple. 

i’ve jumped for joy and ran in circles enough times in my life.  i’m tired and happy.  i sit in a tiny blue chair with just enough cushion and grin.  i grin like a thoughtless dog.
 
today was spent with a friend that makes me smile and blush.  we drove around and went shopping for food in a giant store with aisles and rows of boxes and cans waiting for some hapless person to slide them off of the shelf and into their metal cart. 
 
i am used to my american life again.  things move all too quickly and it annoys me.
 
last weekend was incredible.  i went out to a camp ground beside a giant pond where we i spent the day jumping and splashing with friends like children.  we paddled around the pond on boats and swam and giggled.  they were all happy to be there and many stories were told and many more went untold.  sometimes it’s just better not to say anything to someone you haven’t seen in a while.  sometimes it’s just better to sit there and talk about the grass or the water.
 
the memories of college days came pouring back and we talked about simple things but secretly recounted stories in our heads to ourselves. 
 
i went out to indianapolis to see my family and very important friends.  i will leave that to another day. 
 
you see, i have precious little time to spend with people i care about and choose not to waste it.  i look out on the world with the eyes of a child.  something about the ways in which the clouds move across the sky makes me bubble inside.

i haven't written in ages and do apologize.

i spent the last few days on a whirlwind tour of the midwest. it was wonderful and i have much to say about it but little time.

i drove through the night to get home arriving at six in the morning. as i left indiana, the sky darkened and a giant thunder head stood on the horizon. while it looked like i would be fighting dusk coupled with heavy showers, the setting sun actually made for the most serendipitous scene.

there they were, two rainbows, one larger than the other. they stood above the road like triumphal arches welcoming me back home. i felt blessed, like nothing would ever go wrong again.

my mother and i were running through some of our old, boxed-up memories the other night. we found things that made us laugh and feel nostalgic. it was really a beautiful thing.

one thing she found was a note that i had written in 1990 to her when i was at camp. here is the note including its original spelling:

7/8/1990

dear mom,

i'm writing to you by lamplight. it's olmost 'lights out'. (it's 10:30) so, if i stop in the middle of a sentases io'ul no why.

i went out for the 'moutin climbind' (it is on tuesday and you have to run 1 mile up a moutan.)

'survile' (you just try to survive.) and 'outdoor cooking' (just what you wanted me to)

i got hurt bad to day we where playing a game where you have to get from one side of the feild to the other whith out being tug. you see i was runing strait across the feild now one was chaseing me and all of the sudden 2 couslensers where shasing me and the first one was looking to see if the other one was still following him and then he ran into me and i fell down, then the next counsler ran into me and made my feet hit my fase and my back killed! and then all the couldrs came around me and made a wall, then the kids all kept playing but kept their distance.

i love it here at camp.

yours truly
jonathan moyer from spruce lake willderness camp.

my cousins came up to see a phillies game. they stayed here last night and will head back home tonight.

we used to spend every thanksgiving and almost every christmas together. we used to play football in my grandpop's back yard. we always ended up getting in some sort of argument. we also used to play basketball and my brother used to shoot hook-shots. one time he said he wanted to be the point guard but didn't want to shoot.

the last few days i have been spending time with my mother's sisters and their children. i remember when they were all babies, when i was a teenager. now the aunts talk to me like i'm an adult and the children sit at the children's table and get bossed around. i sit at the adult's table and say silly things and no one seems to mind.

three of the last four years i've been our side of the us and i seemed to have missed just about everything.

it's nice to have everyone here again. we've all grown up. when did we become adults? when did everyone in my life become old? is there any way to slow the process down?

today, the fourth of july, our family went to 'the great auditorium' in ocean grove for church. the service was not necessarily in line with my personal views.

we sang some songs and basked in the glow of their thirty food lighted american flag. we listened to an opening prayer about how god should really protect our soldiers. the lady praying asked god to help america. she asked that god bring, 'peace from war, democracy from tyranny and death, death (this is where she stopped and stammered for a bit) no, life from death.' i thought the slip up was all too fitting. i didn't agree with what she said at all.

we listened to a wonderful solo from a soprano who sang 'this is my song' and that included the line, 'god of all nations.' i liked that.

there was then a moment of sharing and the man that was introducing the speaker made a joke. he said, 'i'd like to introduce henry will. at least he's not henry the viii!' people laughed. people are still making jokes about loyalists. i didn’t know that was still happening.

the service continued and we sang 'soldiers of christ, arise.' i was raised in a mennonite environment and was always taught that nonviolence was the ideal, that pacifism was a quality to be revered. i was taught that war was wrong on all levels. here are the lyrics of the song we sang:

soldiers of christ, arise, and put your armor on,
strong in the strength which god supplies
thru his eternal son;
strong in the lord of hosts, and in his mighty power,
who in the strength of jesus trusts
is more than conqueror.

stand then in his great might,
with all his strength endued,
but take to arm you for the fight the panoply of god;
that having all things done,
and all your conflicts passed,
ye may o'ercome thru christ alone
and stand entire at last.

from strength to strength go on,
wrestle and fight and pray,
tread all powers of darkness down
and win the well-fought day.
still let the spirit cry in all his soldiers, 'come!'
till christ the lord descends from high and takes the conquerors home.

wow.

i especially like the line, 'wrestle and fight and pray.' hilarious.

we sang the song loudly and i was thankful for the blue hymnal at my church.

then, the sermon. our preacher was rev. dr. thomas k. tewell (pronounced, fittingly, 'tool'). he talked to us about doing justice, loving kindness and walking humbly. i resonated with parts of the sermon, the parts where he was talking about respecting people, looking to find solutions to problems in non confrontational ways and helping to decrease the social injustices that have plagued our world since its inception (my interpretation). the sermon was called 'x-treme christianity', which was frightening. he said the word 'dude' a lot which also caused me to cringe.

i enjoyed it, for the most part, until he tried to relate part of his sermon to dick cheney. a couple of days ago, dick cheney was at a yankees game. the crowd was singing 'america the beautiful' or some other patriotic song and they flashed mr. cheney's picture on the screen. he was booed and they removed the picture. our pastor said that, by booing dick cheney, the crowed made jesus look bad. i think there's some round-about logic to this, but i still haven't caught it all.

all in all it was an interesting sunday. happy fourth of july and remember that we're not all perfect.

thoreau said that patriotism was a maggot.

garrison keillor said that a person without self doubt was a monster.

i said that being hubristic just isn't cool.

the beach is hilarious.

i've never been a very big fan of laying down on the hot sand under the unrelenting sun while constantly getting blasted by salt mist. i've been heading out there to see what's going on. i watch people.

people pack onto this tiny stretch of sand that butts up against the lulling ocean. they sit on towels and all stare at the sea. they do not wear any clothes. the men sit with giant bellies ballasting their equally bulbous rear ends. the women unabashedly wear next to nothing and lay quietly trying to absorb as much of the sun's bronzing qualities as is possible. children fall and play in the sand.

i can't help but believe that everyone is secretly miserable.

i stand there in pants and a t-shirt watching everyone walk by. i see all the young girls insecurely prancing by. i see all the muscled men lumber by and gawk.

i see a group of mammals sunning themselves and looking disturbingly out of place.

we're coming up on the fourth of july and i'm sitting quietly at the jersey shore. there are flags flapping in the wind and people milling around. we're sure to be met by some fire works on the beach, nationalistic songs and the rest. we all need to worship something, i guess.

i'm still amazed with our lifestyles. people work incredibly brutal hours and have little time to spend with friends or anyone else for that matter. we all stay 'in touch' by using our cell phones or anything else that will virtually allow us to hear a voice or read the thoughts of our 'loved ones'. we are all hanging by thin, frayed, virtual strings to one another.

we drive from place to place and spend our money buying things that others make. we spend money in our free time and make money when we're busy. we pride ourselves with what is owned, even if it's not explicitly stated.

i guess i work just as hard as the rest of the mulling population but i've had the opportunity to see the world with eyes that have been skewed for the past two years with the reality of the mekong delta.

well, life will continue to plod along. i've learned to enjoy the small, simple moments. the times when i'm sitting in a small, blue chair. the times when no one is saying anything. the phone calls where nothing is discussed and the sound of the other person's voice resonates deeply within. the times when i sit in traffic, when it's not moving at all. the times when my eyes are heavy and my head is dull.

the reason i haven't written anything in such a long time is because i've been in colorado. i flew out there last thursday and didn't have access to a computer.

colorado is stunningly beautiful. the rocky mountains lurch out of the plain and stand rigid, like a wall, to the west. the tips of the mountains were snow-capped even in late june.

i went out there to see the person who has changed my life more dramatically than anyone else has in the past two years. i went out to spend time with someone whose presence leaves me stunned, silent and smirking.

we walked through giant, tree covered mountains. we camped under a blanket of stars, more stars than i have ever seen. we winded down roads that curved through valleys and stopped to look at the beauty that surrounded us. i smiled, didn't know what to say and continued to smile.

i dreamt the other night about tony blair.

he was standing in the middle of a room wearing a black and white shirt that was patterned similarly to shirts that come from new mexico. it had a high neck, like a priest's shirt, and had bits of silver in it too.

i went up to him and tried to give him a friendly hug. he was quite small and, when i approached, he crumbled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. he laid on the ground for a bit and we eventually found ourselves sitting in those overgrown chairs that one sees in presidential interviews. we sat there and talked about politics.

for a long time he was explaining to me how playing the guitar and developing foreign policy were so very similar. i think he was trying to show that they both required one to be a bit inventive but i didn't quite make the connection. i woke up.




the man i drempt about