Leaving Well

Today is the three year anniversary of my first day on staff at California Heights United Methodist Church.

I held that position for 364 days. That year (rounding up) was full of lessons, heartbreaks, and joys like I had never truly known before. Yet it is just my last couple of days there, that I want to mention here.

Before I left, a friend who knew about some of the heartbreak of that year, encouraged me to leave some small item on my desk at the church. He encouraged me to "imagine that item as all of the frustration and pain from this year. As you drive away from it, imagine yourself driving away from all of that to your new start in Florida." I was encouraged to think of the distance between myself and the totem as the distance between myself and those wounds.

I left a pencil adorned with a pink puff on top on my desk. And drove to Florida.

Two years later (again rounding up) I would be driving away from another church, another family, and another desk. This time however, while there certainly was frustration and pain in that time, there was also joy and growth. I wanted to leave a token behind. This time as a symbol of the good will I found there.


This plastic top appeared one day in one of the Worship Bags we hand out to our kids to give them something to focus on during the service.

However, it didn't come from us. It was left behind. It found its way into my office. I would spin it or just fiddle with it while I was on the phone, or needing a kinetic outlet when I was problem solving. It also saw use when our office email decided to run particularly slowly.

As I waited for the owner to claim it. It quickly became "my top." One of the many items on my desk that were all a part of my time at First UMC in Florida.

As my time in Florida drew to a close, I reflected on my time in California. It was a comfort to see the marked difference between the two experiences. Not just in the day to day of ministry, but in the person I was entering the Sunshine State, and who I was as I prepared to leave.
So, I thought up this little ritual.

One item left behind as a reminder of the new beginning I was about to embark on. Another item left behind as a reminder of the joy brought to me by that place.

--Serving God alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

And Then...

So, 2020 has been a year.

Worldwide pandemic.
The impact of that upon the US.
The shifting ground of that impact that shifted the ground exposing truths to others who hadn't seen/hadn't cared.
The politicization and sniping that we took from these lessons.

Due to the last part of that recap, I don't think I want to rehash the larger issues here on this site.
But if you have my contact info. Would love to have those conversations with you.


2020 has been quite the year for me personally as well.

Learned on Super Bowl Sunday, that May 31, would be my last day at FUMC.
Began online interviews via ZOOM as I searched for a new home for ministry. (Before ZOOM was the cool new thing)
Found a really cool daily rhythm reading to the children of FUMC online. (I suspect there were as many adults as there were kids that enjoyed them.)
Became sick of ZOOM as it was the only way to have interviews for new positions, staff meetings, etc.
Was literally fed by a family at First who "made too much" and "just had to share." Despite strong evidence to the contrary, I still believe it was a magical food fair that exchanged home cooked meals for offerings of tupperwear.
Learned that I might have gifts and talents that were being hidden under several different bushels.
Accepted a job in rural Indiana as solo pastor.
Waited two plus weeks for my furniture to arrive.
Served at a Funeral before my second Sunday as pastor.
And have been so blessed to reconnect with friends from Chicago and Houston via this thing called ZOOM.

And that is just the list. The fear, the anger, joy, sadness, hope, confidence, disbelief, ease, comfort, panic, discipline, sloth, waiting, expecting, receiving, leaving, and arriving could each fill a blog on their own.

But for now, the list will have to do.

--Serving God alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

Next time: Highly symbolic stolen plastic tops

In Between

In between boxes.
In between learning a town and a church.
In between between thoughts.

To end my last Youth Group at Cal Heights, the pastor and the youth laid hands on me, and four high school boys prayed aloud.

In between packing offices, and houses, unpacking storage units, and then packing all of that into a Hyundai Sonata, there was plenty left behind. Some of which I will miss. Some of which needed to stay in the past.

The timing of all this meant I left on my mom's birthday. It was a bitter sweet morning of waffles and good-byes.

Another farewell service, and more hands, and more prayers. And tears and laughter. I was sent from Cal Heights with blessings and resources, both physical and spiritual.
(And Doug don't think I didn't notice the prayers and hymns spoke of journey that morning. Thank you for that service.)

Then the drive began. The drive in between California and Florida.

From palm trees to desert to the home of friends. Late night reminiscence and news of a new pastorate. A morning of eggs, bacon, and theology.

Then onto the orange and blue that I have every only seen in New Mexico, along with a flash rainstorm, a rainbow at the check point, and the beginning of Texas.

From a Holiday Inn to a home. My home. The place that sheltered me for a year. The place where my family lives. Like actual blood relation family. That I like being around. I don't take that lightly.

I got to re-meet my nieces, both of whom give fantastic hugs and pick out the best books.

Breakfast and a coffee with colleagues. Each a reminder of how much I am loved.

More time with family, more hugs, and a breakfast.

Then back on the road.
Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, Florida, and a Holiday Inn.

From there to an office where I picked up keys and unpacked my car.
Still unpacking the boxes, but slowly the apartment is becoming a home.

A home.

I have called so many places a home.
Cities like Auburn.
Like Occidental.
Long Beach.
Chicago.
Houston.
and now Gainesville.

So many churches have been home.
EV Free.
Neighborhood.
Calvary.
Immanuel.
CCP.
CANVAS.
Kindred.
Cal Heights.
and now First UMC.

So many people have been home for me.
Greg and Meredith.
Sean and Becky.
Adam Kline.
Bret.
Adam and Sara.
My mom and dad.
And then just my mom.
Jeff, J.P., other Jeff, and the Breakfast Crew.
J.R., Julie, Joe, and the Underground.
Doug, Kathy, and Owen.
and now.

Now is the in-between. That isn't to say that I haven't been welcomed. That isn't to say I don't have some likely suspects. But people who become family, faces that become home, those take time.

To change your address is simple. It is done online.
To change a church is harder, but I have been very fortunate in that regard.
To change your family. Well, you don't do that. It just kinda happens.

You find yourself posing for pictures on an Easter morning, with people you aren't related to.
You find yourself asking what time we are leaving for the Super Bowl Party, before you even ask for a ride to the Super Bowl Party.
You find yourself at a Seder Meal with your board gaming group.
You find yourself at a coffee, where you assume the questions will revolve around your new responsibilities, and instead you find yourself being asked about your soul.

And honestly, you find your self.

Starting a new gig, in a new place it is easy to look back, to take stock. When you have been to so many places it is easy to think that maybe it is you and not them.

But, as I take stock, I remember each place, each person, each home. I see what I gave. I see what I gained. I am excited to take all of that and bring it to this new home. I am excited to see what I will gain here. I am excited to see what I will give here. I am excited to learn how I will grow.

I am excited to learn in what ways, this new place will become my new home.

My new home

--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away,
--Jesse Letourneau

Transitions part 2 aka Apple Tree

The idea for my last blog had been kicking around my mind for a few weeks. Then I received some news that made the topic of transitions germane to my current situation.

In May, I was told that my current position of Coordinator of Children's and Youth Ministries was to be eliminated here at Cal Heights, in order to make room for an Associate Pastorate position to be filled through the placement process of the United Methodist Church. Thus I began a search for a new calling.

Resumes went out, "not an interview" (but really an interview) conversations with pastors were had, Skype interviews were held, and offers to fly out and visit churches were extended.

June rolled around and change continued. I spent a weekend in Gainesville, Florida falling in love with a church and its surrounding community, the Associate Pastorate position was no longer going to be placed at Cal Heights this summer, and the church in Gainesville offered me the position of Director of Children, Youth, and Family Ministries.  That all took place over the course of nine days.

So where does that leave us? The United Methodist District here in California is still looking to place an Associate Pastorate sometime in the future. Which means I have two positions available to me. One that is open ended and one that quite possibly may end in a year's time.

I have accepted the position at First United Methodist of Gainseville. I will end my time at Cal Heights on Sunday, July 15.

There is much to grieve, and there is much to celebrate.

And there is the great task of finishing well.

Central to my philosophy of Children's Ministry, and really central to my life is the idea of paying attention to what is in front of me; paying attention to what I have to accomplish today. Being present to what God has for me. Being present to what God has for others that I am to be a part of.

Luther is quoted as saying that if he knew tomorrow was his last day he would still "plant (his) apple tree today."






Luther's quote speaks of duty and commitment. Worrying not about the future but caring for the needs of today. The quote also speaks of hope. For this allegorical apple tree will grow, it will bloom, and it will nourish others long after Luther is gone. The work of today impacts the growth of tomorrow. Even when we are not there to see it.

I know that my time left at Cal Heights (and for that matter my time already spent here) will plant seeds. Seeds that others will water, and still others will harvest.

--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

Transitions

Top Left July 16, 2017; Top Right Jan. 24, 2018
Bottom Right Feb. 27, 2017:; Bottom Left: May 15, 2017

During my second year of seminary in Chicago, I took a (nearly) weekly picture of the view from my front door. At the end of the year I turned these photos into a time lapsed video. It is still one of my favorite projects I have ever done.

Video

I tried to repeat the idea during my last semester of seminary. This time the bridge over a tiny tributary of the Chicago River was the subject.

Video

I don't think it turned out as well as the first one, but it was an exercise that kept me present during that semester of transition. Even as I rewatch the video today, I am reminded of that bridge, the housing it led to and the campus it lead away from. Memories across my four years at North Park flood my mind. That small space in Chicago is filled with laughter and tears, joy, doubt, fear, certainty, rejection, acceptance, and so much more.

In times of change, I believe it is important to look ahead, to plan ahead, to ready oneself for what is next. Like the titular ant of the Aesop Fable, it is good in the summer to plan for the winter.

In times of change, I believe it is important to stay grounded and present. To leave the worry of tomorrow for tomorrow and participate in the joy of today. Like the titular Grasshopper, it is important to run, sing, and dance while the sun still shines.

In January of 2017, I began a brand new adventure in Copperopolis, CA (Yes it is a real city, and no it is not home to "Copper Man"). I also began taking pictures for a new video. Those of you who follow me on Facebook may remember all the pictures I kept posting of that "same" sandwich.

The goal was to make a video where the tree in the background exhibited the changing seasons. I arrived in Copper after the leaves had fallen, and my journey took me away from that tree (and those sandwiches) just as the foliage of new life had begun to appear. I decided not to cut that video together.

In July of 2017, I began a new adventure in Long Beach, CA. Those of you who follow me on Facebook may have noticed I have been posting the "same" picture of the steeple of my new church. Peeking into the frame of those photos is a tree who I hoped would tell the story of the passage of time through the colors adorning its branches.

As I watched the branches of that tree transitioned from green, to pink, to bare, to green again, I thought this video project just might work out. Then the city, for completely legitimate safety reasons, removed that tree. And while my project stopped there. I have continued to take (nearly) weekly pictures of the steeple, because this church and my role in it are important to me.

These reflections of where I have been and where I am, serve as personal reminders that we can borrow from the past, but never repeat it. We can notice the patterns of what has come before, but they serve only as clues, not certainties of what lies ahead.

--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

Recasting

1955-1990                                                          1990-2017

It has been a while since we talked Muppets on the site. And it just so happens there is Muppet news that I have thoughts on. It was announced on July 10th of this year that the current performer for Kermit the Frog, Steve Whitmire, would be stepping down.

Much of the noise around this announcement as boiled down to age old troupes of Creator vs. Corporation. And in my humble opinion there is no clear good guy in this announcement.  From what I have heard and read I believe both parties actions led to this divorce of artist from the business of the Muppets. And I am not really interested in declaring a winner. What follows are just some of my thoughts and reflections on the news.

Muppet performers are more than voice actors. While there are times where one person will puppeteer and a voice is dubbed over, the standard for the Muppets has long been that movement and voice originate from the same performer. This marriage of movement and sound leads to character. More than that it leads to a character. Fans of the Muppets often refer to the performer as the soul of the character. So when these characters change hands, they do more than change voice actors. A recasting for the Muppets isn't simply a matter of inflection or pitch that is changed, the character themselves undergo a change.

And yes, I did just use the words character, soul, and self to describe two half ping pong balls glued onto a scrap of green fabric. But that is what makes the Muppets so great. At there core the Muppets are a magic trick. I know that they are felt and foam. I know that there is a rod holding their arms up, and a human being manipulating all of it just below frame. However, like with all good magic, it is not a matter of suspension of disbelief or nostalgia or even a sense of imagination that causes me to care about these characters. It is the fact that I forget that they are just foam and felt. I forget that they aren't real. My mind is taken to a place where reality is bent and pigs can sing, bears tell jokes, and frogs can dance.

The first time Kermit was recast was in 1990 following the death of Jim Henson. Jim's death led to questions about the future of the Muppets. News then came out that the Muppets would continue. This led to the question whether the character of Kermit would continue. News then came out that Kermit would be recast. This led to the question of whether Kermit would be the same if someone else preformed him.

Now various Muppets have changed performers in the past. And for the most part, even when it is different, the trick is still pretty good. But this news in not merely about a new performer hoping to recreate the same magic. This is about Kermit.

If the performer is the soul of the character, then Kermit is the soul of the Muppets. And this reason is simple. Kermit was created whole cloth (if you will excuse the pun) by the man who created the Muppets. I am referring of course to Jim Henson. And to many fans, Kermit wasn't just a creation of Jim, but a reflection. Jim didn't find the character of Kermit. Rather Kermit reflected the character of Jim.

Steve's interpretation of Kermit was rocky at first. And fan debates about the quality of "Jim's Kermit" vs. "Steve's Kermit" continued for many years.  (and still do). For me personally, Steve's Kermit recently became simply Kermit. Character and performer had found their groove. In the midst of the changes brought to these characters over the last two plus decades, Kermit was just finally Kermit again.

And now we move to a new era of the Muppets. Soon we will see the third version of Kermit.

This transition in many ways mirrors my own. I too am stepping into a new role.

I am five weeks into my role as Coordinator of Ministries to Children, Youth and Families at California Heights United Methodist Church.

I am also stepping into the role of caretaker for my mother (her doctor is still trying to find the right balance of meds to keep her heart rate, heart rhythm, and blood pressure all in working order, while also working to maintain blood flow through the stint in her right artery.)

And like Steve, I step into these roles not as originator but as follower. At Cal Heights I follow the person who held the position before me. And in my role with my mother I follow myself. For once my role as son was to be cared for, and now it is to care for.

Next time I will reflect on where I have been and how I got here.

--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

Recasting Jim's charcters

Meanwhile...

Seven Years Ago while sitting in LAX, the idea of the hero's journey as analogous to my own journey began to take hold for me. Since then it has been a major filter for me as I process the events of my life both large and small. It certainly has become a recurring theme for this blog.

My last entry dealt with the in-between place I found myself in. I anticipated this entry to be about waiting and choice. I thought I would be writing about how the hero's journey ends when the hero returns home (or at the very least finds a new place of rest). I expected to be writing that now rather than seeing my journey like Frodo returning to the Shire or Alice finding her way back to the tree by the river bank, I felt my journey had become a series of quests with rest still far in sight.

This would be true Sunday to Thursday.

Two things happened on Thursday.
I received a text asking if I was available for a phone call with Pastor Doug of Cal Heights United Methodist Church here in Long Beach, and my mom started to feel feverish around 11:00 pm.

Friday morning two more things happened.
My mom woke me up at 1:10 am complaining of fatigue and shortness of breath and asked me to dial 9-1-1. The ambulance arrived shortly thereafter. From the emergency room my mom was wheeled directly into surgery to have a shunt placed to flush out a 99% blockage in her right artery. By 5:00 am my mom was in the ICU and allowed to get some rest. I went home and slept for a couple of hours.

At 9:00 am my phone rang. It was the call from Pastor Doug. We discussed the denomination and the position they had available. We talked a little shop. He asked if I could come in on Monday for lunch. He then went on say "after that I will show you the church, I will take you to where we do our background checks, and then we can get you started." I realized that with no formal interview I had just been offered a position at Cal Heights United Methodist.

Obviously I needed time to think.
I truly had no idea what was going to happen from day to day. Some days my mom was fine and being discharged the next day looked hopeful. Other days I was asking the doctors if my brother should be buying a plane ticket to come see her.

The position that was offered was for a part-time interim Youth director. Not exactly what I was looking for.

In the midst of all this, there was also a lack of clarity as to what my mom would need when she left the hospital.

Then I had the hero's journey redefined for me.
Above I spoke about the hero's journey being one of returning home. In fact I wrote something very similar before I left for Copperopolis. Yet somewhere in the last six months I had grown a desire to be great and important. To have others know of my work and my calling. To have others know of me. I had defined for myself the hero's journey as a quest of greatness, a proof of my value and worth.

Somewhere underneath my desire to be present, to make a difference right where I was, I had grown restless and allowed outside voices to be the barometer for my worth. I had allowed others view of my calling and work to be the definition of those things.

To be brutally honest, I am still processing all of this. 
Still looking to find meaning in it all.
Still trying to find the balance. Not wanting to make this last month one of fate, seeing these events as necessary for God to work. And yet, not wanting to make them mean nothing seeing them as pure happenstance.


--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

Tune in Next Time.. When our hero has some distance and clarity on all this to share with you all, or simply uses this space to rant about Kermit the Frog.

Now what?

Let's just cut to the chase.

I am no longer employed by CCBC. June 25 was my last day of service for that congregation.

I found out that I would be leaving the church the same week that I posted my previous blog. And for now we are going to let it serve as the recap of my time there. It will serve as my public thanks for the opportunity to serve that congregation.

Which leads us to the titular question, Now What?

I'm not totally sure. I have some irons in the fire as they say. More on those when I can talk about them.

Beyond where I will land next, I still find myself asking the question, Now What?

When I began this blog, I saw the goal of arriving at the destination as the purpose of life.  I was never one to enjoy the trip itself. While working at ARCG I began to see this life we live as a journey. I learned to stop and look around. To appreciate where I was in the moment. I began to notice and learn from where I was, rather than needing to spend all my energy worried about where I was going or why I wasn't there yet.

However, where I have been lately hasn't been all that enjoyable. I left three places of employment that I truly enjoyed (one of which I never even began), broke my elbow, and had my car of seven years finally stop working. All of these experiences have left me wanting to end the journey to finally arrive somewhere.

And yet, in this same time frame I found two churches that taught me about community and communion, I have seen my gifts and talents married to a calling that impacted my life and the lives around me, and I got a front row seat to the first year of the life of my niece.

When I see everything on balance I am called back into an understanding of life as journey not simply as destination. I am called back into trusting that God is present with us. I am able to once again stop and look around. To appreciate where I am in the moment. I begin again to notice and learn from where I am.

What this all means about the direction I am walking in, I am not yet sure. I am still reflecting on all of that. But if my current understanding holds, next time we will get back to mixing over analysis of superheroes with my personal theology.

--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away

--Jesse Letourneau

Romans 12:15

Moana and Me

I have written before about how the themes of Pixar seem to be following my own personal journey. I wrote that initial blog tongue firmly planted in my cheek. I didn't truly believe my life was fodder for computer animated films.

That was until I went to see the Disney animated film Moana. 

The Chief Creative Officer for Pixar (Joh  Lasseter) holds the same title at Disney Animation. Under his watch Disney released the CGI animated film that seems to share very little with my life, yet echoes the latest piece of my personal hero's journey.

On the surface, Moana is the story of a Polynesian Island girl on the cusp of womanhood who must find her own strength, her own voice, and her own way of leading before she can blossom into adulthood and claim her role as chief of the island. Along the way, she is aided by her ailing grandmother who understands more than anyone gives her credit for, a demi-god with magical tattoos, and the very sea itself.

On the surface my story does not parallel that of Moana. But the core of her journey mirrors the core of my own. To explain how this I need to discuss the plot of this movie.

So if you haven’t seen it and don’t want to be spoiled stop reading now.

The plot of Moana is a straightforward hero’s quest. She must find a guy, get a thing, and put the thing back to save the day. As in all good hero quests her parents are against her taking on the task. Think Marlin and his fear of Nemo going beyond the reef. Here is where the similarities begin to come into focus.

The central question of Moana is that of calling. Who is Moana meant to be and how is she to become that person? Is she to be the chief like her father before her? Is she to become a great explorer as her grandmother wishes for her? Moana must decide who she is and what she will become.

The choices laid before her seem to be at odds. 

Stay home or leave. 

Become the chief of island dwellers or become a great explorer?

Moana’s island home provides all anyone could ever need. There is even a song about how great the island is. Her people have been farmers and fishers as far back as memory holds. There is no need for Moana to leave home.

Until of course there is a need. The island begins to die. Quite literally the island begins to decompose as if the Nothing from The Never Ending Story has found this realm as well. (And in my head cannon that is the case.) But there is still a fear of the sea, and Moana’s Father tries to stop her from sailing off on her quest.

Moana learns that her people have not always been island dwellers. She learns they were once great and proud explorers. Moana finds an abandoned ship. And her quest begins.

Moana has chosen to leave home. 

She has chosen to become a sea farer and not an island dweller.

Moana’s quest includes finding her requisite Disney princess animal side kick, matching wits with the Rock, an encounter with a very sparkly crab, and the final battle where she uses wit and empathy to literally bring life back to her world.

But the story doesn’t end with Moana learning she had the power inside her the whole time. The story ends with Moana returning home to become the new chief. Moana had to leave in order to return. Moana was called to be a chief, but could only become that if she first left home.

If Moana had stayed home she would have lacked the ability to fulfill her calling. For it was only in the questing that she found the source of life not only for herself but for her people as well.

If Moana had become a sea faring adventurer finding her own way in the world but never returning home she would not have fulfilled her calling.

I grew up in Northern California.

I left home and explored my own seas. 

I was convinced I wouldn’t ever return home. There was no need. That is of course until there was one. 

God has called me back to California. If I had stayed home I would not be who I am today. I would not be who am I am called to be. If I had not come home, I would not be where I am today. I would not be where I am called to be.

--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

Next week God uses healing to teach me about healing.

The Changing Seasons

When I wrote "WAVES" (see previous entry) I had already been interviewed and was soon to go visit a church in northern California that was considering me for Children and Youth Ministry Pastor. As confident as I was in the position I was no longer the kind of person who counted chickens that were not yet hatched.

As of this writing I have been the Children and Youth Pastor at Copper Canyon Baptist church for three weeks. I will write more about that in the weeks to come. For now I wish to reflect on what it meant for me to leave Houston.

I was an active member at two churches. CANVAS and Kindred. This week I reflect on my time with Kindred. Next week we will look at my time with CANVAS.

I first arrived at Kindred in the summer of 2016. I was promised there would be food. I was told I would be fed. Instead, Pastor Ashley explained that this evening we would be doing something called worskship. For the next hour or so I helped sort clothing donations for an outreach named Grace Place. The evening ended with Communion. “All are welcome. Sinner and Saint, Child and Skeptic” These words intrigued me.

I returned to Kindred a few weeks later. I attended services on a semi-regular basis. That summer Kindred alternated between workship (mostly sorting donations for various groups) and meals. (Kindred is a dinner church). Pastor Ashley often spoke of building Kindred together; stating that Kindred is made up of all who are present.”

I have been a part of Church life since I was born. From nursery to high school group, young adult to not so young adult, my life has centered on the gathering of God’s people. What Kindred offers, what Kindred is, is unique to each of these experiences.

Summer turned to Fall and weekly meals resumed as the steady rhythm of Kindred. Soon I found myself attending weekly, as gathering around the Table became a steady rhythm of my own. I had become a part of building Kindred each week. Fall became Advent and I was asked to lead Kindred in the sacred story of the Magi, the Shepherds and all the rest. The story of Advent is the story of Emmanuel. Kindred had become for me a place where Emmanuel was experienced each week.

Kindred became for me a place that is “made up of all who are present.” It is place where God is felt not merely in songs and sermons but in the presence of each member gathered around the table that evening.

I have experienced God at Kindred. I have experienced God in Kindred.

I have experienced God in the smiles of those who greet me each week, in hugs and in prayers, and in good food shared with good people.

The Advent season soon became the Christmas season. Next the Church calendar entered into the Great Green Growing Season. In this time of transition, I find myself in transition as well. My time with Kindred has come to a close. God has called me to serve a church in California. A new personal weekly rhythm will emerge. A rhythm I have no doubt where I will still find Emmanuel. But it will no longer be in the physical company of Kindred.

I first arrived at Kindred expecting to be fed. Seeking out physical food.

Kindred has been a place where I have been fed and have been fed well. However, I was fed not only with the meals that were served, but with the presence of God experienced through all who were present.

--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

Next week: I take out a restraining order on John Lasseter