I did NOT carry a watermelon
I would like to report that Donald Miller and I are BFFs and that he invited us to climb Mt. Hood with him this summer.
Or maybe that part happened after I finally got to go to bed on Tuesday night.
I do think we could be BFFs, though. If I ever could think of something coherent to say to him.
After partaking in Taco Tuesday at Tijuana Flats, a small group (eight) of us climbed the stairs to Rocketown about 15 minutes before "show time," to find another small group of people waiting in line. Turns out, that small group and our small group made up about half of the audience.
I felt like the show had been underpromoted, but the "crowd" of 50 was surprising. I felt a little embarrassed for South Florida, and a little sad, and a little awkward for Don because speaking in front of an uncomfortably small audience is, well, uncomfortable.
But it made it really easy to get a front row seat. I wasn't really after a front row seat, but that's where we ended up. The front row, in all of its squirmy, eye-contacty glory.
That's right. Eye contact was made. I was hoping that my eye contact said "I think your writing is brilliant and I really appreciate you being a voice for this segment of our generation who is learning how to merge our evangelical upbringing with the actual teachings of Jesus and thank you for inspiring me as a writer and a Christian to hope for something bigger..." but I think it probably said something more along the lines of "I really need to switch my crossed legs again but will that distract you and can you tell that I am actually shivering because it is so bloody cold in here?"
His presentation was, in my opinion, pretty incredible. I know he's been touring and giving the same talk every night so he's had time to perfect it, but from a technical standpoint, it was one of the most well-crafted lectures I have ever heard. His books do the same thing - he has this way of jumping all over the place and bringing it all back together, like putting a puzzle together in chunks and letting you find that last, connecting piece under the table.
For example, about halfway through the lecture after several anecdotes and inspiring little soundbites (which caused me to wish that I was taking notes, and then to be self conscious about the fact that I was in the front row NOT taking notes, and then to wonder if the people in Portland take notes and we really were the ignorant South Floridians that he was kind of joking about us being), it became apparent that he was presenting the Gospel. Using the elements of story, he made a case for Christianity that was interesting, engaging, relateable, funny and pretty indisputable. None of this "I'm going to tell them what I'm going to tell them, then I'm going to tell them, then I'm going to tell them what I told them." And it was completely, believably authentic, which was my favorite part. I love the idea that someday we'll see Don again, when the Story reaches its climax.
Because we were such a small group, he opened it up for Q&A. In the absence of paper and pen, my sleepy, starstruck, writer's brain could not formulate a question in time to be confident enough that it would come out coherently. Then, also because we were such a small group, he treated us to some hang out time, which meant that we could sort of form a line and awkwardly hand him our books. Which we did. Here was my watermelon opportunity - but I sailed right by it. He was very gracious and truthfully, I have no idea what was actually said because I was literally so tired at this moment that I could have just laid out under his merch table and gone to sleep. I did thank him for coming, and I thanked him for signing my Blue Like Jazz book for my birthday 3 years ago, and we took a picture and it was over, stammer-free. Just like that. Not because there were a lot of other people waiting or because he shooed us along, but because I really wanted to go to bed.
I've been processing it for a few days - trying to explain and reconstruct the talk (with great difficulty - MUST remember notebook from now on) - and my main take away is that I am inspired. Inspired in the way that watching the big kids play makes you want to practice harder, so that maybe, someday, you can be a big kid too.
Or maybe that part happened after I finally got to go to bed on Tuesday night.
I do think we could be BFFs, though. If I ever could think of something coherent to say to him.
After partaking in Taco Tuesday at Tijuana Flats, a small group (eight) of us climbed the stairs to Rocketown about 15 minutes before "show time," to find another small group of people waiting in line. Turns out, that small group and our small group made up about half of the audience.
I felt like the show had been underpromoted, but the "crowd" of 50 was surprising. I felt a little embarrassed for South Florida, and a little sad, and a little awkward for Don because speaking in front of an uncomfortably small audience is, well, uncomfortable.
But it made it really easy to get a front row seat. I wasn't really after a front row seat, but that's where we ended up. The front row, in all of its squirmy, eye-contacty glory.
That's right. Eye contact was made. I was hoping that my eye contact said "I think your writing is brilliant and I really appreciate you being a voice for this segment of our generation who is learning how to merge our evangelical upbringing with the actual teachings of Jesus and thank you for inspiring me as a writer and a Christian to hope for something bigger..." but I think it probably said something more along the lines of "I really need to switch my crossed legs again but will that distract you and can you tell that I am actually shivering because it is so bloody cold in here?"
His presentation was, in my opinion, pretty incredible. I know he's been touring and giving the same talk every night so he's had time to perfect it, but from a technical standpoint, it was one of the most well-crafted lectures I have ever heard. His books do the same thing - he has this way of jumping all over the place and bringing it all back together, like putting a puzzle together in chunks and letting you find that last, connecting piece under the table.
For example, about halfway through the lecture after several anecdotes and inspiring little soundbites (which caused me to wish that I was taking notes, and then to be self conscious about the fact that I was in the front row NOT taking notes, and then to wonder if the people in Portland take notes and we really were the ignorant South Floridians that he was kind of joking about us being), it became apparent that he was presenting the Gospel. Using the elements of story, he made a case for Christianity that was interesting, engaging, relateable, funny and pretty indisputable. None of this "I'm going to tell them what I'm going to tell them, then I'm going to tell them, then I'm going to tell them what I told them." And it was completely, believably authentic, which was my favorite part. I love the idea that someday we'll see Don again, when the Story reaches its climax.
Because we were such a small group, he opened it up for Q&A. In the absence of paper and pen, my sleepy, starstruck, writer's brain could not formulate a question in time to be confident enough that it would come out coherently. Then, also because we were such a small group, he treated us to some hang out time, which meant that we could sort of form a line and awkwardly hand him our books. Which we did. Here was my watermelon opportunity - but I sailed right by it. He was very gracious and truthfully, I have no idea what was actually said because I was literally so tired at this moment that I could have just laid out under his merch table and gone to sleep. I did thank him for coming, and I thanked him for signing my Blue Like Jazz book for my birthday 3 years ago, and we took a picture and it was over, stammer-free. Just like that. Not because there were a lot of other people waiting or because he shooed us along, but because I really wanted to go to bed.
I've been processing it for a few days - trying to explain and reconstruct the talk (with great difficulty - MUST remember notebook from now on) - and my main take away is that I am inspired. Inspired in the way that watching the big kids play makes you want to practice harder, so that maybe, someday, you can be a big kid too.
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