A historic night

How do you spell progress — Barack Obama.

Thursday afternoon the historic significance of Obama's nomination hit me — this is something my grandparents probably thought they would never see, it's something my mother prayed for and it's something that I knew would eventually come, I just didn't know when. But now my nieces and nephews, great nieces and great nephew will know that it's true —as an African-American you can aspire to the highest office in the land.

Thursday night we saw progress ... we are moving in the direction of making Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream a reality. 

Whether Obama wins or loses, our country has taken one great big step to realizing that we are a country of equals and regardless of whether we are black, white, green, red or yellow, we can dare to dream and sometimes, dreams do come true.

Both sides of the coin

OK, today, I found out in Maryland Chick-fil-A is apparently the place to go for the 13 and under crowd. What happened to McDonald's?

It was quite the little outing. Lots of noise and lots of business, too. In one corner was a couple closing on a house, in another was a group (most likely related) of about 15 people and then a group of women talking business at another table. In all of this there was a bunch of commotion because somebody shattered the glass in the restaurant's main door. But, that didn't take center stage until after there was a dispute about a 14-year-old boy playing in chicken land (or is it cow land) with a 3-year-old autistic girl. A parent, whose own children were climbing on the bars like the sign asks them not to, was a little miffed about the teen with the little girl. He rightfully complained to the manager, who tried to explain the reason the teen was with the girl was because of the child's autism. However, the father was still uncomfortable with such an arrangement and the teen and autistic girl left the play area.

Then the group (which was Addams-family like) started to complain and asked if autistic children should just die.

Autism wasn't the issue. The issue was the teen-aged boy in the play area sliding around like he was 7 or 8. The father didn't get concerned until after the teen-aged boy almost landed on his daughter, who was probably 5. The father correctly pointed out the teen exceeded the height requirement for the play area. Maybe the mother, instead of moaning and groaning about how poorly her child was being treated, should have gone to her child's defense by helping her climb through the mazes in the play area.

In these kinds of situations it is the wisdom of Solomon that is required. There are two side to the coin and even though I see each side, I feel the 3-year-old was treated shabbily by the father  and her clueless mother.

The prodigal

I guess I'm no prodigal. I don't want to return to my homeland like the young man in the parable after the misspent days of his youth. I didn't exactly misspend all of my days, but I had my moments. I guess since I'm not eating from the pigs trough I'm not likely to try to return to the home of my parents seeking a ring, a place to live and a good meal. Even though my mother provides all of that (minus the ring) during this time of transition.

It is wonderful to be in the car with my mom and to share with her. It has just confirmed what I  already knew — I am her favorite. 

We have been having a lot of fun. We think alike on a lot of things. We notice some of the same things and sometimes, say the same things. We get to laugh about the same things and are outraged by much the same things. Like what you may ask...

Today, when we were riding back to my grandmother's house, a nicely dressed woman was walking down the street and suddenly, she started scratching her butt. In my mind, I thought, "That lady acts like she's got fleas." A few seconds later my mom says, "Now that lady is dressed all nice scratching her butt like she has lice or something. She should of at least tried to twist a little so she didn't have to scratch." I started laughing. I said, "I wasn't going to say anything. She was scratching like she has fleas."

I guess you had to be there. But it was funny and now I know that I am more like my mother than I like to admit. (There Renee ... you happy?)

Being back in Pittsburgh is like a tale of two cities. Against a backdrop of decay are signs of progress and economic boom. However, the economic boom happens to be sporadic the more you get into the city and the less affluent a neighborhood is. It is really funny to see a house that has wonderful upkeep and could be in the pages of Home and Garden next door to a house that is board up with graffiti all over it. 

Then, I'm struck by how the streets are taken care of in the less affluent neighborhoods vs. the affluent neighborhoods. Nothing surprises me, it's just amazing people don't put up more of a fuss.

Back in the city

I arrived in Pittsburgh on Thursday after having spent six days in Marietta, my former home. It was interesting to be there. Some things have changed. Most haven't. People are still having the same conversations; still talking about the same things and still trying to get to the next level. Can somebody remind me again why it took me so long to get out?

What was fun was seeing many of my buddies and catching up on their lives.

I had an opportunity to preach at my former church and as much as I love them, I have no desire to go back. (Is that bad?)

When I got into Pittsburgh, I had an appointment to preach at the church I grew up in before my mother started pastoring in McKeesport. 

Sometimes, I wonder why home doesn't seem like home. Somehow, I felt lost. I'm sure it has everything to do with me. But, it is interesting that people have no idea who I am and in some case, have no desire to get to know who I am. That is funny. 

Well, I have to finish my sermon for tomorrow soooooo comeback tomorrow when I'm going to write about coming home to the city and realizing that hey, I don't miss it all that much in reality.