4 Lunches, 2 Days and Spilt Milk

This week has been quite busy. The kind of week that wreaks the same havoc on my workload as a vacation week. You know the drill- out of the office (either on the beach or in constant off-site meetings morning till night) and knowing there’s an ever growing inbox, snail mail stack, unreturned phone calls and ignored to-do list.

It’s been so crazy trying to fit various meetings in, several of them with out-of-town contacts, that I’ve had to schedule two days with two lunches. On Tuesday it was an 11:30AM lunch at P.F. Changs in Cool Springs (Chicken chopped salad) and then a 1:00PM at Franklin Mercantile (chicken noodle soup). Yesterday it was an 11:30AM lunch at Bricktops in downtown Nashville (Chicken chowder soup) and a 1:00PM at J. Alexander’s in Cool Springs (Thai Kai Salad). I probably put 500 miles on the Suburban this week. The only good thing about that was when I filled it up with gas yesterday it only cost $49 versus the $150 it would have cost just a few months ago.

A funny thing happened while at the lunch meeting yesterday in J. Alexander’s. While waiting for my out-of-town lunch guest I ran into a couple of folks I know. Friend1 (which coincidentally had been one of my lunch meetings on Tuesday), and his father, Friend2. They introduced me to Acquaintance1 (the sister of Friend1 and daughter of Friend2) and her husband, Acquaintance2 (the brother-in-law of Friend1 and son-in-law of Friend2). We chatted for a few minutes and I mentioned I was waiting to meet with a guy named Darren that I had never met face-to-face before. I joked about having to do the whole “Hi, are you Darren?” routine with each guy that walked in the restaurant. They were escorted to their table and I continued to wait.

Darren showed up a few minutes later and after a minute or two of small talk the buzzer in my pocket went off and we were taken to our table. Of course it was right next to the Friend1 and 2’s table. Friend2 saw me and said to my lunch meeting “Hi! You must be Darren.”

Darren was stunned to have been recognized in a strange town by someone he had never met, and was completely confused about what was going on. We sat down and I explained.

As we chatted business through lunch I happened to glance to my left just as Acquaintance2 (the husband/brother-in-law/son-in-law) knocked a full cup of half-and-half off his table. You know those little metal miniature jugs that get filled to the brim with creamer? Seems they had finished with lunch and it was coffee time. The creamer thingy hit the carpeted floor with a soft thud and creamer shot out of it like a stick of dynamite in a shallow pond. Creamer ALL over Friend2’s leg and shoes (the father/father-in-law). No on at the table noticed except of course for Acquaintance2. He looked down at the huge mess all over the floor and his father-in-law and a horrified look came over his face. He looked around his table to see if anyone noticed and no one did. He straightened up and resumed drinking coffee and glanced my way. He saw me looking at him, and the mess, and his eyes went wide. He was caught. But did nothing.

A few minutes went by (while the creamer soaked into Friend2’s pants and shoes and the floor) and the waiter for their table appeared. He gave them the check and then noticed the spilled creamer. He pointed it out and the table was surprised. Acquaintance2 said nothing. Friend2 wondered if maybe he had knocked it off himself, or a passing server had. The mess was cleaned up with no one the wiser but me.

Sharing Food With Strangers

I'm eating dinner alone tonight in Culver City CA at a little place called Thai Dishes.

I've been here a few times for lunch, and was looking forward to the dinner sized portion of the Ka Ree Panang. It burns a nice sized hole in your gut, but tastes so good going down.

An older couple next to me were very friendly and chatty and were complaining in a cheerful way that they never knew what to order at these kinds of places since they wanted to try it all. They seemed a tad bit adventurous to me... And it proved out in short order.

When their food came the gentleman said "here you go young man- try this!" And placed bits of their 2 different entrees on my plate. What could I do? Well... Of course offer some of mine.

I placed a chunk of chicken positively soaked in yellow pungent burning hot curry sauce on some rice and he pushed it all onto a big spoon and downed it before I could warn him.

He choked and grabbed his chest, then downed his entire glass of water before declaring loud enough for all the neighbors to hear "my god, man, that's spicy!"

School Lunch

Today Michelle and I went to our girl A's school for lunch. It's her 9th birthday today.

We've been there before for lunches, and planned on buying lunch at Puckett's to bring with us- the last thing we wanted to do was actually buy lunch AT school again. Not only is the food bad, but there's not much of it. Which, I guess, is a good thing.

We ran out of time and had to do it- we had no choice if we wanted to eat with A. We got in line with a few 3rd graders and went through the line. We were shocked.

We had a nice sized chicken breast filet/chicken finger thing with honey mustard and BBQ sauce, baked potato with cheese and sour cream, steamed broccoli with cheese sauce, side salad and a roll. Sweet iced tea instead of 1% chocolate milk that tastes like college-ruled paper completed the meal.

I think I might bring a few clients there for lunch meetings. Not sure you can best that meal for only $3.00.

Old Men?

I am getting to that age. I had a dinner meeting with two other gentlemen, both in their mid-50s. I am still 15 years away from that, thank goodness, but got a glimpse of what is to come.

As I prepared to enjoy a fine meal, a lovely merlot, and a mix of business and personal conversation before our real meeting with the whole team the next morning, things went sideways.

One of them talked about a medical procedure he had awhile back, and that started a full hour full of medical horror stories of cancers, heart attacks, lost friends, scars, surgeries, prostate issues, and much more. Much more.

I could barely enjoy the meal while I listened politely and didn’t say a word.

I thought this was supposed to start in the late 60’s or early 70’s after retirement?

Voted Best Restaurant!

That's the message on the highway billboard sign that convinced our family to exit and dine at a Knoxville restaraunt. As we arrived the message on the front door of the place almost drove us away- an Italian restaurant with southern roots. For a moment I thought perhaps they meant southern Italian, which is most decidedly different from the north of Italy.

Nope. They meant exactly what they said.

They are trying to be a fine dining establishment, but they blew it with the special. When the waiter showed up he told us about it – “a nicely baked scrod (Scrod is defined as any sort of ‘everyday’ white fish that is often unidentifiable) sprinkled with Ritz cracker crumbs and baked to perfection!”

I opted for the ‘Italian Sausage, Shrimp and Grits’ which the waiter assured me was his favorite. Michelle went the safer route taking the joint up on its Lasagna. My food was disgusting, consisting of de-tailed shrimp looking particles that probably came from the bulk frozen aisle at the local Costco, while Michelle’s looked almost exactly like a particularly gruesome possum road-kill plate.

‘Steve’ is the owner, the waiter told us, and my guess is that he and his family were the sum total electorate that voted on the best restaurant in Knoxville. As we got back on the highway we saw Macaroni Grill off the next exit. I had a fleeting thought of the ancient Romans and their vomitoriums. I sure could go for a nice Spaghetti Bolognese.






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Opinion Changed Twice In Two Minutes

Last night we had the last celebration of K’s fourteenth birthday. K wanted to have dinner at one of her favorite restaurants, Pei Wei Asian Diner. I can always eat there, but our two youngest don’t enjoy it at all. We stopped by Taco Bell drive-through to get them a few soft tacos.

We arrived at Pei Wei, ordered our food, and started wandering through the bustling restaurant trying to find a table. After finding nowhere to sit our group of 6, Michelle and the girls stood in a corner while I vultured around the people eating looking for the next table that might come available. I got lucky and grabbed two small tables next to each other, pulled them together, and grabbed a nearby unused chair to make a table for five. A & R, our youngest, had to share one of them for us to barely fit at the table.

Our food arrived, and as we ate Michelle remarked that Pei Wei used to have a person watching the parties coming in the door and ensure a table is reserved as each orders. It had been awhile since we were there, but they always used to do that. I agreed and thought perhaps they had cut the position to save costs, or just didn’t care anymore. I started thinking that maybe the food wasn’t as good either, and it was awfully loud.

Just then a very nice lady came to our table, apologized that she has been stuck in the back when we came in and ended up at this small table, and had two staffers come over, quickly clean off a nearby table, and pull it up to ours, giving us another chair, plenty of room, and additional apologies.

Suddenly clouds parted and the sun shined. It was, once again in our mind, as good a place as it had ever been. One person makes a huge difference in how customers perceive a product or service.






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Its 2:44AM And Lights Out

My flight home from LA was supposed to land at 12:40AM in Nashville. The Southwest flight from Burbank to Las Vegas was delayed, and then the flight from Vegas to Nashville was delayed as well. We landed at 1:40AM.

I had skipped lunch, and didn’t have time for dinner, so I was about ready to eat about anything. Thank goodness for the 24-hour McDonalds drive through near the airport. There’s only one problem with 24-hour places once midnight hits…the only people that will work those shifts are not exactly quick, efficient, service-oriented professionals.

I can picture the discussion with management: “Billy-Bob, your performance this quarter has been dismal. You have given out boys happy-meal toys to girls at least 27% of the time, never put ketchup or straws in peoples bags and on at least two occasions customers have complained that you left the bathroom without washing your hands. I’m going to have to assign you to the 2AM-6AM shift. Sorry Billy.” Either that, or when they hire someone new, they tell them “the late shift is all about paying your dues…someday if you work hard you’ll get to wear a manager’s hat like mine.”

Either way, the value meal #2 with a diet coke ordered at 1:50AM took about 15 minutes. I was now hungry and very, very angry.

By the time I arrived home it was almost 3AM and I spilled mustard on my dress shirt and diet coke on my car floor. All around crappy day. But it was good to be home.






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Red Wine

My largest client came to town yesterday. They sent a team of 5 executives from Los Angeles to spend 2 ½ days with me here in Nashville attending a series of meetings I set up with potential distribution partners. I work closely with one of them, and this trip was my chance to get to know others on the team better. The week was just as much about team development as finding a business partner for them.

I had planned for this week for sometime and wanted to make sure everything went well. We had made dinner reservations for Wed night after I picked them up from the airport. It was a chance to get to know each other better and plan for the upcoming 2 days of meetings.

We went to a restaurant in Nashville named The Trace. Everything was off to a wonderful start until a minor gaffe occurred. After buttering my bread with some sort of bright red roasted tomato butter, my butter knife slipped off my plate and painted a bright red blotch on the shirt of the most senior member of my client’s team. A very nice gent that I was sitting next to and trying to get to know better.

He graciously accepted my apology, assured me it would wash right out (I knew better), and we continued our conversation. I noticed the table we were sitting at had extensions that popped out from underneath, and my side of the table gently slopped downwards proving a slight angle that helped my knife slide right off the plate and hit the target. I took note of it and would be more careful the rest of the night.

Things were progressing well until one of the worst things that could happen at a dinner meeting did- and it involved red wine, a brand new blackberry, and cream colored corduroy jeans.

I am part Italian, and as such, I have no choice but to animatedly move my arms and hands about when I talk. It is in the blood. And blood is very closely color matched with a nice 1995 California Pinot Noir.

As my arms flailed about telling a story, my left arm clipped my full wine glass. Not much at all, but enough to send it on its way to the table surface on the sloped edge it sat upon. Everyting moved in slow motion. The screams of horror sounded several pitches lower than normal as they do when tape runs in slo-mo. The glass hit the table..the wine sloshed skyward, the nice man sitting next to me that could end or extend my consulting agreement made his move…and the wine landed. Right on his new blackberry, with shrapnel splashing onto his nice new light colored pants.






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Sam The Fireman

Yesterday started out slow, but got busy quick. We arrived home the night before after a long road trip- we spent the Spring Break week at the beach.

We woke up Sunday morning groggy and slow, and couldn’t get out the door for church. We decided to watch our service live over the internet, only to realize that our church doesn’t stream the service live- it comes on line the next day.

I jumped on the mower at 11AM to get a quick 90 minutes in before taking L to fast-pitch lessons, week 3 of 4 as she gets ready for her first season as a softball fast pitcher. After catching for her for an hour and a half, it was back home and back on the mower. After finishing the yard I cleaned the mower and then went on wasp patrol. Pulled out the 27-foot jet stream can of wasp killer and circled the house eliminating any red wasps that were unlucky enough to be seen by me.

After shower number 2, and a short nap, the family went out for Mexican. Michelle was at her sister’s house helping pick up and deliver a couple outdoor chairs Jackie purchased, and the two of them met us at the restaurant shortly after 7PM.

I got there with our 4 girls about 15 minutes before Michelle and Jackie did, and noticed 2 huge full-size fire engines in the parking lot. Interesting. We walked in, and sure enough, there was a table full of firemen- about 10-12 in all. They were all smartly dressed in identical black dress shirts, black pants, and big radios on their belts. I wasn't aware fireman took their big rigs out for dinner.

The fun started after Michelle and Jackie arrived. Jackie is Michelle's younger sister, unattached, and like Michelle she's a looker, and a few of the fireman were a lookin.

There was one in particular that kept eyeing Jackie, and smiled at her a few times. Michelle and the four girls were giggling and thought it was cute. I was a bit annoyed- why would he bother with all this cutesy stuff and not come over and talk to her? Chicken. I was waiting for him to pass a note that asked Jackie to check the YES box if she liked him too.

The firemen finished their meal and got up. I noticed that they took a LONG time to pay their checks and leave. They finally did, and two huge fire trucks loaded with firemen headed out of the parking lot. As the second one went by our window, the fireman that had been watching Jackie stuck his hand out of the truck and waved to her. Jackie waved back, along with my 5 and 8 year old daughters. I thought once again- chicken.

Michelle and I remarked that the fireman had lost his opportunity to meet Jackie. They would probably never see each other again...too bad.

We finished our meal and the whole family left the table and gathered around the front counter waiting for me to pay and picking out their preferred treat- a chocolate mint or a lollipop from the candy jar. As I was dolling out the appropriate cash for the cashier the phone at the front counter rang. One of the waitresses standing nearby answered it and a confused look came over her face. She looked around the restaurant while holding the phone to her ear and said "red sweater? No, I don’t see anyone wearing a red sweater."

Jackie, wearing a maroon sweater suggested to the waitress that perhaps she was the one she was looking for. The waitress handed the phone to Jackie, and Sam introduced himself.

His story was that he didn’t think it was appropriate to interrupt our family dinner and talk to Jackie to get her number. I knew better- No doubt he couldn’t get up the nerve to come over and talk to Jackie. I am guessing that the long delay in leaving was due to Sam's buddies egging him on to go over and introduce himself. He probably chickened out, left in his fire truck, and was unmercifully roasted by his buddies for his lack of bravery.

He must have finally come to his senses, realized his missed opportunity, and hurried to fix the mistake. He probably looked up the restaurants phone number on his mobile phone and called. He barely caught Jackie. The whole episode reminds me of the movie “Roxanne” starring Steve Martin.

Jackie and Sam chatted for a few minutes while the rest of the family waited patiently at the front counter. Jackie gave Sam her phone number and said goodbye.

Let's hope Sam's timing during a fire rescue is a bit better.






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For Some Reason I'm Craving Grilled Cheese And French Fries

At the top of my list of favorite food sits all things Asian. However, after this past week I need a break.

Monday was take-out Thai from Chlay’s. Tuesday was Chinese salad at a nice restaurant. Wed was multiple dishes with a friend at a Vietnamese place named Miss Saigon. Thursday was Mongolian Beef with fried rice and chili paste at PF Changs. Yesterday? Eggroll and Kung Pao Chicken at FuLin’s in Brentwood TN.

I’m paying for it now in ways I shall not divulge.

At a couple of the lunches, as the check(s) were delivered at the end of the meal, fortune cookies were placed on the table- carefully arranged and matching perfectly the number of diners. As we took our cookies and read our fortunes, I almost took command and insisted we do it the way our family does but thought better of it.

It started with Christmas. To avoid the chaos of having multiple children shredding open multiple gifts in a cacophony of craziness that lasts 11 minutes, we instituted a tradition that draws out Christmas morning while also giving focus to each person and each gift opened. We go round-robin, from youngest to oldest, and each person opens their gift while all others watch. It allows proper attention to each gift, each giftee and giftor. It really does add importance to each, and each gets a chance to shine.

Some years ago we brought that tradition to each meal our family ate together that included fortune cookies. The plate is passed around, from youngest to oldest, and each chooses a cookie. It is very important to do this, otherwise the fortune you get will be invalid. Then, each person opens their cookie and reads their fortune for all to hear and comment on. I know it’s goofy, but it makes the time more fun- it shines attention and consideration on each person and the funny or insightful fortune cast on each.

The little things in life are much more meaningful and enjoyable when we can share them- when others can share in them, and when we take the time to add value by our focus of attention.






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Gravel, Tea and Eggrolls

Yesterday was a busy day for the DigitalRich crew. After our Saturday morning breakfast tradition, Michelle, K and L headed off to parts unknown for something called “clothes shopping.” I really don’t know what that means other than sitting in front of a computer and shopping at eddiebauer.com, suncancecatalog.com, target.com and theterritoryahead.com. I assume you actually walk into “stores” and buy clothes that are somehow lying around.

A, R and I headed out front in the 38 degree cold, bundled up, with a wheelbarrow, shovel, rake and hoe to attack the growing potholes in our driveway. It is a rather long driveway, just over a 1/10 of a mile long, with a bed of gravel and 4 potholes the biggest of which is about 3 feet in diameter and roughly 8 inches deep. Navigating the driveway has become a bit of a dance that I'm sure our guests, garbage man, milk man and UPS drivers don’t enjoy.

We recently had several tons of crush-and-run gravel poured over it, but all it did was accent the potholes in a lovely new shade of grey. The delivery guy warned of that, and said if I wanted them fixed I would have to go out there and scrape off material from other parts of the drive and fill them up. And so we did.

After that bit of fun, we headed inside to change so I could drive R to her best-friends house for a tea party for all the girls in her pre-school class. We got half-way there when R realized she forgot her doll- a co-invitee to the party- so we returned to pick up the baby doll and got to the tea party right when it started at 3pm.

So it was A and I in the car, with about 90 minutes to kill before having to pick her sister up. I had not had lunch, so we stopped by our local Chinese restaurant for a couple egg rolls and a cup of egg drop soup. A decided she would eat something as well and got her fave- chicken on a stick.

We had a great time, just the two of us. Chatting about school and friends, about things that made her happy, sad and scared. She mentioned that the rice she was eating was really good and I asked her what her favorite restaurant was. I was awaiting the standard responses I get from the younger ones- McDonalds, Taco Bell, Chucky-shoot-me-in-the-head-Cheese, et al.

She thought about it for a minute and said… “Chlay’s.”

I was shocked. Chlay’s is our local Thai place, owned and operated by a wonderfully nice lady named Saowanee and her family. We go there a couple times a month, and at first it was hard to get the whole family to want to go, but they have all found dishes they like and on several occasions lately Michelle and the two oldest girls have suggested it as we debated lunch or dinner destinations.

I recalled, in this moment of joy hearing my 8 year old say Chlay’s was her favorite restaurant, a bit of scripture from the Bible:

"Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it."
Proverbs 22:6

I am pretty sure God didn’t have Thai food on his mind when he inspired the writing of this passage, but I like to think he did.

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Experimenting With Forms Of Government

Each Sunday after church, and one or two other times during the week, our family goes out to eat. I love food, as can be deduced by my big, umm, boned frame, and really enjoy dining out. Michelle and I remind our girls that this is a real treat- when we grew up, going out to dinner was a big event not often afforded, and it was one of the few times we could drink Coca Cola.

Remember what the world was like before free refills? As a kid, if I downed my coke too fast I was forced to drink water while my slow-sipping evil sister smiled at me with a straw between her lips still sipping her coke. Maybe that was just me.

Back to the real story. The only negative to this “family treat” is going through the routine of getting as many of our clan of six to agree on a place to eat as possible.

A few years ago Michelle and I became weary of trying to remember all the different places we could go, so, being the digilicious instant-info at your fingertips freak I am, I loaded almost every bistro, eatery, diner and casual dining outlet in a 25 mile radius into my Blackberry- including name, address, phone number and website.

So it became easier, for awhile, to rattle off the list to get feedback and input from the gang. We still had problems deciding though. I guess reading through a long list of names numbed the minds of our kids and they gave up after places starting with the letter E.

We then started experimenting with various forms of government structure to help us:

Anarchy: The absence of government
We argue and moan about where each of us wanto go in a slowly rising cacophony until Michelle or I got sick of it and we drive home to eat peanut butter & jelly sandwiches.

Aristocracy: Government by the nobility
Sometimes we give into our little princess R, the ‘baby’ of the family.

Autarchy: Government by an absolute ruler
Other times I am bound and determined to eat Thai and I tell the lot of them they can just starve and sit there and watch me eat Green Curry Chicken.

Bureaucracy: Government by civil servants and process/policy focused
On a couple of occasions we came up with complicated formulas and processes for making the decision (Let’s go through the alphabet. Let’s rotate among our favorites. Let’s rotate decision makers…). It was too hard to remember how we were deciding each week, and we gave up.

Confederacy: A union of sovereign states
For a few weeks K & L joined forces to bring a “strength through unity” approach to the process and tried to sway the other family members to their thinking, sometimes with the threat of force brought to bear on their two younger sisters.

Democracy: Government by the people
I reasoned that it made absolute sense to go about it in a democratic fashion- I could kill two birds with one stone. Pick a restaurant AND teach our kids about democracy. It only lasted a couple of weeks. How can democracy work when you have 6 people voting on 200 places to eat? Nine times out of ten we couldn’t even get a simple plurality of two.

Matriarchy: Government by women or mothers
On a few occasions, Michelle will speak up authoritatively and make it clear we would not be going here or there, and lay out a couple of choices that she would be amenable to if the group chose them.

Monarchy: Government by one (usually by hereditary rule)
When Michelle and I are particularly not looking forward to the battle ahead, we kibitz among ourselves, King and Queen, and let the subjects know where we WILL be eating today.

Ochlocracy: Government by mobs
Sometimes the King and Queen’s plans are laid to waste when the masses rise up in protest: “No! We don’t want to eat there again!”

Patriarchy: Government by men or fathers
This one is my favorite. “We shall be eating Thai today. I hope you enjoy it. If you don’t, it will be a long and hungry day for you. So I have spoken, So shall it be done.”

Technocracy: Government by technical experts
Once in a while I pull out the old “I know best” card. I let the family know about a new place I read or heard about, inform them why this new Thai restaurant will be so cool and unique, and why we should go there.

Theocracy: Government by a deity through clergy or by religious law
“Dear Lord, please tell us where we should eat today so that we don’t have to go through the process of figuring it out on our own.”

I am looking forward to new advances in technology that will allow us to try what is sure to be the ultimate solution for figuring out where six opinionated, smart and vocal family members can all go together and eat in peace and tranquility: Robocracy: Government by robots or other artificial intelligence.






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Dining Out

I like spicy food. My father used to warn me that I would get a stomach ulcer if I kept eating the spicy stuff. One of my earliest memories of doing research to prove an adult wrong is based on this. Several studies in the 1980’s showed that eating spicy food did not cause ulcers, and several cultures that typically had a spicy diet showed lower rates of stomach ulcers and stomach cancer than the US population.

Can I hear an amen?

So, this is my personal code when it comes to eating out. I hope you enjoy.

______________________________________________

The Hierarchy of Dining Out, by DigitalRich

1. When dining out, always remember the final objective: Food Nirvana. This is defined as a state of intense internal heat and a sweating head. Above all, this is what should be pursued. If you can actually get sweat to RUN down your face, you have reached the highest level of oneness with the great spice god).

2. In order of preference, look for these types of restaurants: Hispanic/Latin (Authentic Mexican, Spanish, Cuban, Brazilian), Asian (Thai, Vietnamese, Mongolian and Korean), Mediterranean (Southern Italian/Sicilian and Greek).

3. If none are these are readily available, eat a power bar with some habanero sauce (the most intensely spicy chile pepper of the Capsicum genus).
______________________________________________






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Taco Bell Beggar

The koo is a start-up band I manage on the side. Good kids, strong hearts- they want to change the world through music and the arts, and they are working hard to hone their performance and songwriting. Last night they played a show at a small club in East Nashville called The Five Spot. My wife and I went, grabbed a beer, and had a few minutes to chat before they went on. They sounded great.

After the show I decided to hit Taco Bell for a bite to eat- I didn’t have a chance to grab dinner, though my wife did. Drove up to the drive through, placed my order, moved to the first window.

As we pulled up towards the window, in line with one car ahead of us, we noticed a beggar sitting on the ground, with his back to the building and on a small strip of sidewalk between the Taco Bell and the drive-through lane. He must have been under 20 years old, but already haggard looking, dirty, broken. His eyes were half-open, glancing around every so often, and was clutching the standard-issue bent-in-the-middle cardboard sign with black sharpie scribbled words “will work for food” or something like that.

[Insert sound-effect: flashback cue from ABC’s Lost]

A few weeks ago when my wife was not feeling well we skipped church. I thought it would be a great opportunity to crack open the “Jesus” DVD someone gave us. The Jesus Film Project is an outreach that has shown the film to over 6 billion people (how is that even possible? Amazing). Our family had not been in that number. None of us had ever seen it.

The film was ok- definitely dated looking, and since it was based on the book of Luke and only used dialogue from that ancient account, it was a little hard for our kids to follow. Everything was going well until a scene from the film really shook me. Jesus was walking with some folks and talking about real life issues and how to deal with them. Among those things he said was something that somehow I never really heard before. It’s from Luke 6:30- if someone begs of you- give to them. Not just a generic “thout shalt do this,” but a good old-fashioned red-letter statement from the Man himself. 40 years and never caught that. Interesting.

So back to last night. Decided to give this kid some money, so I rolled the window down and called to him holding out a few dollars. As he got up he started to pitch forward like he was going to pass out. He regained his strength, and as he approached the car he lost his balance again and had to thrust his hand onto the car door to keep his balance. He was drunk and could barely focus on the money. He gently took the money, mumbled a thank you, and plopped right back down on the ground.

After a few minutes (the car in front of us was obviously ordering tacos for a Vanderbilt frat house that had the munchies- it was taking way to long for their order) he struggled to get up again, holding the money in his left hand, and started to walk away. I assumed he was off to find something to “drink” with his newfound riches ($3 to be exact), and so was instantly frustrated and disappointed with the kid. Instead, he changed direction, and started moving to the Taco Bell doorway. He tried to enter, but it was locked- closed. Only the drive-through was open, and they don’t take walk-up orders. He disappeared around the corner of the building and we didn’t see him again.

It was the first time in many years I had given money to a beggar. Now and then I have done it- especially when I was caught off-guard or if my kids were with me (ouch. A hypocritical moment for sure). I always justified not giving money to beggars by assuring myself that if given, the money will quickly find itself at liquor store (or worse) buying a high for the next hour or so. I told myself that what I should do is go buy some food and give it to them- but of course I hardly ever did that. Just didn't have the time since I saw them mostly downtown when I was trying to get somewhere on time.

What Luke reminded me was that there are two transactions that occur when someone begs and we give. One is between God and giver, and a separate accountable transaction between God and receiver. I am being called to only concern myself with the first.

If anyone happens to read this, and has wisdom, suggestions or thoughts on how best to respond to beggars I would enjoy reading it. Leave a comment. Thanks.