The Big (and Small) Apple

(Over the next few days, I'll share some pictures I took during my stay.)

After my shock at the courtesy of the bellman, I checked into my hotel and through myself on my bed in exhaustion. But I didn't fly here to rest, so I had to go for a walk.

I’m struck by the simplicity of the streets. It is almost like the earliest city planners knew that tourists would flock to this place one day. The street numbers start at the bottom of the island(i.e. south) and get bigger as they go “up” (head north). The Avenue numbers run north south and get bigger as you move from left (west) to right (east).

Uptown is north of downtown (a simple concept that I didn’t know originated here). So if you hop on a subway headed downtown you will go south. So as long as I knew that my hotel was on 53rd street and 7th avenue, I could tell how many blocks I was from “home base.”

One thing that struck me immediately was not only how big Manhattan is (I assumed that) but rather how small it is. What I mean is since real estate is so expensive here, and so many people are so crowded into this area, that everything from restaurants to hotel rooms, to parking lots seem diminutive.

Here’s an example of a parking lot that has to deal with the reality of squeezing numerous cars into a small lot. There are lifts which allow cars to be parked on top of one another.

Also my hotel room was quite small, but still ran $200.00 a night at the conference rate. I could easily hear the patrons in the rooms on either side of me laughing, talking, or taking a shower. It wasn’t uncomfortably small, but it wasn’t the vast spaces of the South either.

Arrival (II)

As I carried my suitcase through the streets of Manhattan, I made sure to switch the suitcase back and forth between my arms. I was concerned about only working out one arm. I didn't want to end up like Freddy Rodriguez from the film Lady in the Water.

Arrival

I flew into Newark International airport around noon. The flight was much cheaper than a flight into JFK or LaGuardia. My first view of New Jersey confirmed all of the punch lines I’d heard over the years. I saw a great deal of chemical processing plants and those large tanks that hold caustic liquids of various kinds.

Just perfect for dropping a body into.

I asked a lady behind a counter the best way to get into Manhattan and she recommended Greyline Bus service. I paid $14.00 (as opposed to the $50.00 cab fare) and rode the 12 miles into town. One of their stops looked reasonably close to my hotel, only several blocks away. On the map it didn’t look too far.

That was my biggest mistake of the trip.

They dropped me off at Grand Central Station. I then had to carry my enormous luggage case countless blocks to the Sheraton Manhattan Hotel. There were two problems with this:

1) I do have rollers on my luggage, but the handle was broken on my last trip, a fact I had forgotten.

2) My suitcase was weighted down with file folders, resumes, as well as several days worth of clothes. It weighed 47 pounds.

I am a beast of a man, but carrying that weight got old quickly. It took me a good hour to make it to the hotel in 25 degree weather. I sweated the whole way. When I finally arrived at the Hilton, I brought the suitcase in and collapsed while they looked up my reservation.

“Ummm, Mr. Taran? We don’t seem to have your reservation.”

What?! I took out my itinerary and noticed…….my reservation was for the Sheraton, one more block down 53rd street.

A bellboy (or whatever they call them now) saw my plight and offered to carry my suitcase a block down to the Sheraton. He was fussed at by his supervisor because he would be wearing his Hilton uniform to the Sheraton lobby.

But he carried it down for me anyway and was incredibly gracious. It was then I learned a shocking lesson that was repeated for me on numerous occasions during my several day stay.

Manhattanites are NICE!

Plane Thoughts

For the next few days I’ll be sharing some experiences from my recent trip to New York.

Some random thoughts from my flight from the deep south to Newark.

****I was told that I couldn’t take my Coke Zero through the security area of the airport, but that I could drink it quickly if I wished. So I chugged it immediately. I suspect that the few square feet on the other side of the metal detector (where people put their shoes back on) contain more belches per square inch than any other real estate in the country.

****As we prepared for takeoff, the stewardess went through the standard litany of safety features and procedures of our plane. Nobody listened to her at all. People kept talking or reading their newspaper. I bet it really bothers the airline attendants when people ignore them. I bet inside they are saying “I hope this cabin depressurizes so that the gas masks will fall down in front of the passengers. Since they’ve ignored my safety instructions, they won’t know how the masks work. They will then frantically ask me but I will refuse to tell them. Ah ha ha ha ha!!!!!!!!!!"

****Plane departure: 6:35 am. First announcement after we are airborne? “Beer and wine are available for purchase.” The time of that announcement was 6:38 AM!

****After my plane landed in Memphis, we got our stuff out of the overhead compartment and stood in line waiting for them to open the airplane door. I was prepared to move quickly so that I could make my connecting flight. But they kept the door closed so we all just stood in line on the plane. I could see my suitcase being unloaded. My luggage got off the plane before I did. I think that they wanted to give it a head start.

I'm Back

I returned from my busy trip to Manhattan this evening. I'll blog about my trip over the upcoming few days.

One travel note: This is why I rarely initiate conversations with people on the plane.

We're waiting for takeoff on the connecting flight out of Memphis to my home town. There are 12 people on the plane. There are empty seats all throughout the plane.

Me: "Wow, they sure are taking a bath on this flight aren't they!"

Him: (after gazing at me for a second with smoldering eyes) "I sure hope so after this airline has treated me like @*#& all day today."

Me: "Oh."

We didn't share another word the rest of the flight home.

Just Great

In an effort to save money while in Manhattan, I brought a bit of food from home to eat while here.

Yep, I brought some peanut butter. That peanut butter. According to an news report I read, salmonella may "reside in the gut" for up to a year as a person acts as a carrier.


I wonder if the money I've saved will cover the cost of my gastroenterologist for the next year.

A Note From New York

I am in frigid Manhattan and am pleased that I caught the first snowfall of the year.

Curiously, I've been here for 72 hours and no one has yet flipped me off.




Clearly I'm doing something wrong...


More to come as I return home and have increased connection to the Internet.

Parenting

I am convinced that 94% of parenting a four year old consists of redirecting them from destructive to almost destructive behavior.

Maybe 98%.

My Home Town

I am going on a big trip in a few days.

It is a trip to my home town, where I’ve been raised from my earliest memories. I’ve grown up in this town, watching the kids play on the sidewalks and seeing the hustle and bustle of everyday life. The town looks very similar now as it did to me when I was growing up.

It’s a really busy town and I’m always amazed at the mass of humanity in my home town. I remember walking in the park, gazing at the river, all the while being engulfed in the canyon of tall buildings. I’ve tried not to let nostalgia glamorize my memory, but it is a beautiful place. I’ve seen its mean streets too. I’ve seen its crime. Believe it or not, I’ve seen people viciously beaten on the streets of my home town in front of my very eyes!!

I should also mention that I’ve never been to this town, this town in which I was raised.

The town is New York City.

I’m preparing for my first trip to the Big Apple and I’m excited. I’ve begun to reflect on the amount of time I’ve “spent” in New York and it is pretty impressive. As a toddler I was raised over on Sesame Street, which was geographically and culturally a few thousand miles away from 329 Northwood drive in the north Dallas suburbs. I recall being fascinated by the idea that people lived in apartment buildings instead of homes; that there were stores located on the same streets as these apartments—and that people spent afternoons playing jump rope and hopscotch instead of football and baseball.

Music and television have also affected my views of New York. People like Paul Simon and Billy Joel, Elaine and Kramer, Edith and Archie, Lucy and Ricky, even Horseshack and Vinny all have affected my view of New York. (I’ve even viewed its repeated destruction!)

I’m going up to New York next week to interview candidates for an open position on our faculty. Our hotel is right near Broadway, Time’s Square, Central Park and Ground zero.

I can’t wait to see what my home-town is like!!!!

(I do however expect to get mugged at some point).

The Question

The comments are offered more and more frequently. They usually ran something like this: “Brother Taran, people here sure will be sad when you leave.” or “We are enjoying this interim time, we could do this forever!” Another comment, by a church leader to a group before the Church service “Well, we may have found our new preacher already!”

In various forms, the question boils down to this:

“Why don’t you just stay and be our pastor?”

I had been warned about this possibility ever since I’ve started looking into interim ministry (intentional or otherwise). You don’t have to talk to an older interim pastor very long to hear about search committees who drag their feet in order to hang onto an interim they like.

My trainer in the intentional interim class put it memorably. He said:

“At some point, a sweet little old blue-haired lady is going to come to you and say ‘You are so nice and have been so helpful to us…you should just stay here and be our pastor.’”

Then he advised:

“Don’t take it personally!”

It seems that this request is par for the interim course. For the church, the familiar is safer than the unknown. As long as the interim exhibits no visible signs of being an axe-murderer, they are deemed acceptable.

Plus, in the church as well as in normal life, endings are often emotionally challenging. In most every interim situation, the church has recently gone through a difficult departing, so why go through that again? This is especially true when Susan Song is dealing with some particular feelings of abandonment regarding how their previous pastor left. I think it is not so much the particular interim pastor that churches want to hold onto, but it is more the feeling of normalcy and stability that a familiar face provides.

So how to help that situation? I’m sure that it can ever be completely avoided. But here are some things that I’ve done:

***The covenant helps a lot. It explicitly states (in section IV) that I will not be considered for the position of pastor. (Perhaps next time I will move it up to the first section instead of the fourth). This clause provides me with a helpful reply and gives me some cover simply to tell them that I cannot ethically accept the pastorate.

***I have consistently used language that looks to the future when I am not here. E.g. “Now if this happens after your new pastor gets here, here is what I would suggest…”

***I state clearly (and repeatedly) that I am not called to be a traditional pastor. This response has the additional advantage of also being true.

***When in doubt, I talk about it. We go through the goals of the intentional interim and I try to get the congregation back on the particular task at hand. Focusing on the task can help them avoid distractions.


From my side, the 45 minute drives to the church and the time away from my own family (who continue to go to our home church) serves to keep my mind focused as well.