The Curated Life

It is often noted that what we see on social media isn’t reality: that each of us is putting on a brave face and presenting a false narrative of positivity.

It is true that social media is full of filters (and not simply the ones we use for our photos).  We filter our thoughts and our emotions on social media.

Social Media is a public place. I do my very best to treat it as such. What you see on my Facebook page is (or at least should be) what I would be comfortable shouting from a street corner. The local passerby may not care I am excited about the latest sci-fi offering on Amazon or that I got to hang out with preschoolers and talk about Jesus with a lion puppet (by the way, I am pretty sure they know the script/routine better than I do now), but I wouldn't be embarrassed for the hypothetical passer-by to know that.

But those filters are not there so that you all will think I am a good person or that I have it all together. I do that for myself. I do my very best to create a place where I can look back and see the good things that I do have. I can look and see the opportunities that I have been given.

It is easy for me to feel lonely. To feel forgotten. To feel useless and unable. I think it easy for all of us to feel that way. Facebook is one of the places I can look to remind myself that none of those things are true.

Back in my day we had physical photo albums and those were full of pictures of birthdays, vacations, and candid holiday snaps. Seldom if ever, did my mom whip out a camera to take pics to show off our bumps and bruises, our tantrums, or when the house looked like a family of four lived there.

Back in my day Facebook was called photo albums.

Photo albums are curated. They are carefully chosen to present a particular story.

The most intentional way I curate my online presence is through my (not so perfect) daily picture photo albums.  Just under five years ago, I began a project to catalogue one thing from my day. One part of my routine, one place I went, one thing I saw, one thing that marked the day.  One thing to remind me that when I feel isolated or limited or even just stuck that the total picture of my day, week, month, year is larger than what I can see in those moments. These albums balance somewhere between a journal, spiritual exercise, art project, and time capsule.

Those that follow this blog will know that there have been some rough times, and more transitions than I really care to count in the last few years.  However, just because something ends, doesn’t mean the good times of the past didn’t happen. Certainly our present colors our past, but it shouldn’t completely rewrite it.

My pictures don’t always reflect the fondest of memories. Amidst the board games in Chicago, the Middle School Concerts in Florida, and the blue purple-ish sunsets in California are photos marking auto collisions, hospital visits (unrelated), and braces for busted elbows.

As noted above, these photo albums are put together for me to look back upon. However, I am grateful for all of you have come along with me on this journey. 

Nine years ago, I started this blog when I moved away from my home and my friends in Southern California. It was a simple way to keep those who I served with, those I loved, and those who loved me included in what I was doing.

Today, this blog serves to help keep in touch with those I have served and loved, and those who have loved me along my travels.

From Long Beach to Occidental, to Chicago, to Houston, to Copperopolis, back to Long Beach, and now out in Gainseville. I am privileged to be able to continue to curate memories and then be able to share them all with you.

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

It is all a matter of where you focus

To be honest the last five or six weeks I have been focusing on the darkness. The darkness of evil, sin, sickness, human unkindness. I have been preoccupied with the needs of my family, my friends, my neighborhood, my church. I have been enveloped by the darkness of my own soul.

I have looked at the problems without looking at the solutions. I have seen only the shadows while denying the existence of the light.

Today, when I woke up, the weather matched my heart. Cloudy, cold, and rainy.


As the day went on, the rain broke, and sun arrived for just a few brief moments. Inspired by these fleeting rays, I grabbed my camera and headed out to catch the first hints of spring struggling to be seen despite the gloom. By the time I stepped outside, the sun was once again hidden, but the evidence of spring was still evident, if I would just look for it.

As I searched for color and light, I found that I was soon relying on the macro setting and zoom to frame my shots so that only the water drops and traces of color from the first blooms of the season were in focus, while denying the context of what was just out of frame.

My attention swung from preoccupation with darkness to a preoccupation of light. Extremes are seldom healthy. So I took a step back. I took shots of things "as they were". Then I used the zoom to draw attention to color that might go unnoticed.

These blooms were there yesterday, but I didn't noticed them. Hope was there yesterday, but I didn't stop to notice it.

This exercise in photography was an exercise in paying attention. To notice what is around me. To notice the joy that I often ignore.

A selection of this exercise can be found here.

--Serving Him alongside all of you, Just from farther away
--Jesse Letourneau

113 years ago today

Dr. Seuss was born a 113 years ago on this date.

2016 odds and ends

So a little housekeeping first.

When I started this blog back up I was hoping to bring you weekly updates on Tuesdays.
As you can tell that has petered out a bit. The main reason is that I now work 40 hours a week and have no internet access (save at the library).

As I learn a new rhythm to life, I will find a consistent time to get these updates up for all (two) of you who wish to keep reading them. Until then we will just have to go with "whenever I can find time, and hopefully once a week at that"

Not only am I bailing on my schedule; this week's update is a series of thoughts, some connected, many not.

In Merry Christmas Charlie Brown, Linus drops his blanket (for the first and only time) when he quotes the words "Fear Not" spoken by the angles in Luke 2. Whether this is intentional or not it is still a pretty cool thing.

Trader Joe's has become a real job, but a good one. I don't always want to go into work in the morning, but I always enjoy myself when I do.

Abraham was a liar. 
His son Issac played favorites with his children.
Issac's son Jacob was a schemer, liar, and played favorites among his sons.
However, Issac's son Joseph shows forgiveness to his brothers (who were liars and schemers).

He breaks the pattern of selfishness found in this family. His actions keep his family safe and preserve the line of Abraham-the one to whom God had promised would become a great nation.


So where did Joseph learn forgiveness?

In Genesis 33 Jacob and his brother Esau (who had been harmed by the lies and schemes of Jacob) reconcile. Present at this event is Jacob's son Joseph.
The first moment in this family's history where peace and forgiveness are extended is one where Joseph is present for. This event will echo out in the actions of Joseph later in time.

My niece is pretty cool. She smiles and makes non-crying noises now. On Christmas Eve she was quiet and awake as I read How the Grinch Stole Christmas to her. She doesn't know this yet, but that is now our annual tradition.

The family enjoyed the gifts that I got them (Smash-Up) and it has been used several times since.

I got to see Star Wars VII on New Year's Day with my brother's mother-in-law (still not sure what that makes us, other than family)





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

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Have a great Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Festivus, Solstice, Binge watch of 1970s stop-motion specials, or whatever else this month means to you!

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

P.S. In defense of Baby It's Cold Outside (even the versions without Miss Piggy in them)

Train of Thought 2013

Well boys and girls we have come to the portion of the show where I have run out of prepared blogs, and don't have one cohesive thought for today's entry.  So instead you will get some nuggets that have been rattling around in my head (I will let you decided what the nuggets are comprised of)

• I notice when I am content (not happy, not even joyous, but content, I sing  more) 
• The songs that get stuck in my head are never full songs, they are usually just a verse or a bridge.
• Although lately I have been singing "Jesus Loves Me." 
• When I was in high school, the worship band for the youth group did a rearrangement of "Jesus Loves Me"  This is the version that is stuck in my head.
• While I love "Jesus Loves Me" there is one verse that we sang that has a horribly theologically inaccurate verse in it:

                Jesus loves me when I am good
                When I do the things I should
                Jesus loves me when I am bad
                Even though it makes him sad
Now, I know that there are verses that speak of the Lord grieving over the sins of His people.  And I know that we are called to NOT sin so that Grace by abound.  But idea that my day to day actions, that my "being bad" somehow makes Jesus sad, that my mistakes, and slips, my willfully wrong actions, are on the same scale as a nation that has run after idols seems off to me.

God is not sad over my sins, He is grieved over my sins.  Not because He "misses me" or is upset we don't spend time together.  He is grieved because his beloved child is spending time/taking actions that move me away from what is good for me.  “When I am bad, I am making choices that exchange my connection to the love of God for actions that cloud, distort, cover, and blur the reality of God's love.

• I was offered an internship last week.  This internship was an outstanding opportunity, and would have fulfilled academic requirements as well as provided spiritual growth. I didn't get it.  However, I know that God has my best interest in mind.  He will lead me to the experiences that I need both practically and spiritually as I trust him to continue to mold me into the person he is making me.
• I am 37 and way too old to still be caring about movies based on comic books
• I am looking forward to seeing Captain America 2
• I think I am too excited for the new Agents of SHIELD television show
• I am  looking forward to seeing Bob and Becca in a couple of months
• I get to fly to Houston to spend time with my brother and his Sara, as well as my mom who is also flying to Houston
• Greek is harder than Hebrew
• After next week I will have completed one of my three classes for this semester-giving me even  more free time than I currently have.
• I should find things to do with this time other than watching New Girl on Netflix.
• I will be spending some of this time watching New Girl on Netflix
• Things I am not too old for: laughter, even at stupid things; rest; reading a good story, even if the main character has superpowers or lives on a distant planet; simple pleasures; simple joys; simple dreams
• Things I am too old for: playing basketball against 25 year olds, fast food and/or too much dairy; staying up past 10pm
• Things I will be doing on a weekly basis this semester: playing basketball against 25 year olds, eating fast food (and upgrading from a soda to a milkshake), staying up past 10pm
• I have been blessed by my relationship to many people over my 36 years of life.
• I will do my best to write more than a list next week

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

--Jesse Letourneau

What was I watching?

A few years back; I remembered watching as a child this television show with a spaceship/roller coaster, a giant unblinking clown, and a hyper active pun spewing monkey.  I asked my friends about it, and was a little upset when no one remembered it.  Thanks to the shared memories of my brother (I knew growing up with a little brother would pay off someday) and the wonder of the wide wide world of web I was able to put my mind at ease to find out the show did indeed exist.



The interwebs was able to confirm that I did indeed witness the greatness of "the Coaster" as a small child.  Today, however, the www of web has proven that I hold a false childhood memory as well.  I vividly remember watching the Jim Henson Hour with my family in the Fall of 1990, however the Jim Henson Hour did not air then.  So what was I watching?

Also, while we are on the topic of childhood memories:  As a child of the 80s I was naturally also a teen of the 1990s.  Thank to this article I now understand why I had such an unrealistic expectation of high school.


 --Jesse Letourneau

He is Risen Indeed! (the week started out so well part 3)

A couple of days passed and I found myself in the upper room with what was left of the Twelve (Judas was gone and there were rumors he had hung himself). I don't know why we gathered. There was nothing left to do, but sit and hope that those in charge didn't want his followers as well.

Then the women burst into the room and began to talk about angels and stones, and how they had gone to put spices on the body, only the body wasn't there, and they didn't know how they were going to move the stone, but it didn't matter cause the stone was gone and there was an angel and...

I didn't catch most of what they were saying, they were pretty excited and it was hard to catch it all. Then Mary Magdalene said something I did understand. "Jesus is alive!"

I took off running toward the tomb. Peter was right behind me. I must admit that Peter is in better shape than I am and made it to the tomb first. He stopped at the entrance. I bolted past him and went straight in. There were the linens and the head cloth, but there was no Jesus! He was alive!

All of us who saw him after that (and there were more than you might think) all have our favorite story of meeting him. The two chaps from Emaus tell the tale of how they met Jesus on the road home, but didn't recognize him until after he left. Thomas tells his tale of disbelief and being invited to touch the wounds. My story is about the time he made us breakfast on the beach.

Those of us who fish were out in the boats. It was a horrible night. We weren't able to catch a single thing. We fished through the night and not a single fish came into our nets. At one point I think we kept fishing just cause it was personal. We weren't going to let the Sea win.

Sometime around dawn we heard a voice from the shore. "Caught anything yet?" When told him that we hadn't, the stranger told us to cast our nets on the other side of the boat. Confused, we were desperate enough to try anything. We cast our nets on the other side of the boat. We had to strain to pull the net it in it was so full of fish. At once we all recognized who it was that spoke to us from the shore. It was Jesus!

Of course I jumped from the boat and swam ashore. The guys still give me a hard time about that. Not so much that I jumped from the boat to get to Jesus sooner, but that I didn't stay in the boat to help them unload the catch.

We sat and talked and ate fish. Everything was back to normal. It was better than normal. As the meal wound down Jesus got up and began to walk down the beach. He asked John to walk with him.

As they were gone, the rest of us speculated as to what they could be talking about. We decided that it would be funny if Jesus was going to talk with each one of us and reveal our future and tell us how we were going die. John came back to the group just as we offered this hypothesis. "That isn't funny!" he said. Then he turned to me and said, "You're Next." I walked down the beach and caught up with Jesus.

"Peter, do you love me?"
"Of course I love you!" I was hurt that he would even ask.
"Then feed my sheep." I had completely forgotten about that night. I had forgotten that I had disowned him. Feed his sheep. Who I am to do such a thing? I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Do you love me?"
"You know that I do." I said without looking up.
"Then feed my sheep."

"Do you love me?" he asked a third time.

One for each denial.

What was he trying to accomplish here? "You know that I do."
"Then feed my sheep."

I said nothing. Eyes down, feet kicking at the sand. Jesus reached out and placed his finger under my chin.

He lifted my head.

Our eyes met.

Again the look in his eyes was unlike any I had ever witnessed before.

Compassion. Mercy. Justice. Love. Peace.


Forgiveness.

Restoration.

He had called me home. He had called me to feed his sheep. He had forgiven me and restored me. All without words. All with a simple look.

As we turned to walk back to the others I looked up at Jesus and asked him what he talked about with John. He put is arm around my shoulder and laughed.

"Don't worry about him." he chuckled. "Maybe he'll stick around for all eternity."

The week started out so well...Friday

Part One

After they took him from the garden, panic and confusion broke out. Those of us left standing there didn't know what to do. I decided to follow (from a safe distance of course).

Eventually we wound up at the palace of Pilate. I was able to make my way to the courtyard. I did my best to blend in, hoping to hear some snippet of news, some idea of what they were doing to him. Some idea of what we should do next.

It was cold that night as the sun began to set, and I soon found myself sitting around one of the many fires that was lit. Those gathered around me said nothing. The silence was unbearable. I began to make small talk, but all that I could think of was Jesus and what they had done to him. I tried to act nonchalant as I asked for any news of the prisoners that had been brought to the temple that night. I guess I wasn't too subtle.

Another man at the fire accused me of being a follower of that "Jesus character." I denied that I was. I tried to insist that I was simply in town for the Festival. Seeing that they weren't believing my story, I got up slowly and moved away.

"How could I do that?" I thought to myself. Moments ago I was willing to risk everything for him and now I was denying that I was his follower.

Moving to a new fire, I sat down. This time I was sure that I wouldn't have anything say. The time pasted and I was able to hold my tongue. then one of those gathered looked me dead in the eye and asked, "Didn't I see you come into the city with Jesus of Nazereth? Yeah I am sure of it. Are you one of his disciples?" I assured him that I wasn't. A little servant girl was standing behind us. She was sure that I was one of the disciples of Jesus, the one the crowds were calling the Christ. She too had seen me enter in the gates on Sunday. Besides she could tell by y accent that I was from Galilee.

I swore (in every sense of the word, I am ashamed to say) to her that I didn't know this Jesus that everyone seemed so interested in talking about. I didn't care about this teacher or his followers, I just came into the courtyard to get warm. As I rose to leave, I saw them bring him out and walk him across the yard.

Our eyes met. This was not a look that said, "you are missing the point" or "you have gone too far." This was something new. It wasn't sadness, and it wasn't quite disappointment, but it wasn't a look I care to ever see in his eyes again.

After that, I don't remember much of the rest of the night, or of the weekend really. I guess I was just numb. I heard that he had been crucified and was buried in a tomb near the hill where he died.

Died.

Dead.

Jesus was dead.

Gone.

Buried.

It was all over. No more denials, no more swords, no more dinners with cryptic talk about bread and blood. No more teachings. Or healings. Or travels. Or talks along the road. No more storms calmed, or fish with coins for the Temple Tax. No more walking on water. No more looks. It was all over.

The week had started out so well.

the week started out so well

The week started out so well.

We had all come into Jerusalem to celebrate the Feast of Unleavened Bread. Our rabbi told us to go to a certain man and borrow his donkey. We walked into the city and the people came out of nowhere! They began shouting and singing and waving palm branches. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. …I’m sorry. How rude of me, my name is Peter and I was one of the disciples of Jesus.

You haven’t heard about Jesus? You must be new to these parts. Let me tell you all about him.

Like I said the week started out to be wonderful. We walked behind Jesus as he rode in on the donkey. The people were singing and shouting and were so happy to see him. I learned from Jesus for almost three years now, I have never seen anyone respond to him the way the people did. No one threw him a parade when he healed the lame and blind. No one cheered when he touched the lepers or ate with tax collectors. And they certainly didn’t lay down palm branches and coats along his path when he told the crowds that following him was to follow Yahweh, and that following would be hard. In fact many left him when he did that. But I stuck around. I would never betray Jesus. Well that isn’t completely true…

So the week went pretty normal from that point on. Well normal when you spend time with Jesus. He spent a lot of time teaching. Saying things that I wasn’t really sure what they meant. But so much of what Jesus said didn’t always make since to me.

But it was the night we had our Seder Meal where things got really confusing. We were all around the table. The meal is about to begin, and Jesus stands up and goes to a corner of the room. He grabs a bowl and a towel. Then takes off his outer cloak and fills the bowl with water. He returns to the table and without a word begins to wash our feet! Our Rabbi was washing our feet! The man who only days before had been welcomed into the city with singing and celebration, was now dressed in a towel and washing our gross smell disgusting feet! The one who I thought was the one. The one we had been waiting for. The one promised to his people by The LORD was now on his hands and knees like a common lowly servant. I sat in awe as he made his way around the table.

I decided I was going to have no part in this tomfoolery. I was going to have no part in this ridiculous behavior! Wash my feet! I don’t think so! And I told him sold! No way my Lord! There is no way you are touching these gross feet of mine, that is beneath you.

Then Jesus looked me straight in the eye. There was a little smirk at the corner of his mouth. It is the same look he always gave me when I was close to what he wanted to teach us, but not really getting the point. It was the look that I knew meant, I love your enthusiasm Peter, but you are missing the point. It was his look that told me to Stop. Wait. Listen to what I am about to say.

“Unless I wash your feet then you have no part of me.” That is what Jesus said to me. Well if washing the feet is good then washing the head and the hands must be even better. No one loved Jesus more than I did. No one understood me like he did. And I understood him better than anyone else. “Wash my head and my hands as well then!” “You are already clean, you need only have your feet washed.”

From there the meal was pretty normal. That is until the end of the meal. As we were finishing the Seder meal, Jesus took some of the bread and said, “This is my body broken for you.” I will be honest here; I thought that was a really odd thing to say.

Jesus took the cup and said, “This is my blood shed for you.” No it isn’t I can see it from here, its wine. (Really good wine too, but not as good as the wine we had at Canaan that one time).

I really truly didn’t understand what Jesus was trying to say. Why was he using bread and wine to describe a broken body and spilled blood? Then it dawned on me….All last week he kept saying things about going away, and rebuilding temples. Did Jesus plan to die?

We left the upper room where had had our meal and walked outside the city to a hill known as the Mount of Olives. There is a garden there that Jesus loved. He took us all there, but told the others to stay as he went on. He brought James and John along with myself a little further into the garden. (By the way, John always claimed that he was Jesus’ favorite, but I know it was me, and I was ready to prove it.)

Jesus went further in and prayed. He told us to watch and pray. We all fell asleep. It was really late. When I woke up, Jesus walked by us, mentioned something about our inability to stay awake for even a little while and said that the time was soon.

When we came back to where the others were I could see torches being carried in the distance. As they got closer I could see that it was Judas (he had left earlier) along with some of the religious leaders and small group of Roman soldiers. I don’t know what Judas thought he was trying to prove with this little stunt, but I had come prepared. I was packin.

I drew out my sword and swung it at one of the Roman guards. He moved, but I still sliced off his ear. No one was going to take my Jesus away from me.

Then Jesus bent down, grabbed the man’s ear, placed it back on his head, and the ear was healed. Reattached and working just fine. I was confused. And hurt. Jesus didn’t seem to be impressed by my courage or my swordsmanship. He gave me a different look. One I had seen many times before. It was the look Jesus gave me when I had gone too far. He didn’t need his words to tell me it was time to put away the sword. Then Jesus did the one thing that made absolutely no sense in that whole confusing night. He walked away with the leaders, the soliders, and that traitorous little snake Judas. He went with them. He let them arrest him!

The week started out so well.

For my own amusment

So I have been at LAX fro roughly 12 hours now. I am flying standby. I am not complaining. I was able to get a friends and family ticket super cheap. That allowed me to go home and see friends and family. It allowed me to start 2012 in the place I began 2011. It allowed me time to reflect on 2011 its ups and downs, and to begin to embrace the change of that year and the challenges of this coming year. There is a blog or two in all of that.

But for now I am simply writing a blog for my own amusement. The next flight to Chicago doesn't leave for another 30 minutes, and I need to keep myself occupied in that time cause I have been here-as I said for 12 hours, and am getting quite bored.

Here is a list of some things to bring with you when you might have to spend more than 10 hours in an airport. Not just what you needs for a 10 hour day by yourself, but what you might want for ten hours in an airport.

In no particular order:

#1 Noise cancelling headphones
The ambient noise changes just enough that it is really hard to block it all the way out. I have a Bible, a computer, and a year of growth and change to process and I couldn't find a place where I could hear myself think.

#2 A really good book. Not the new book you are trying out, not a text book to get ahead in your reading. That book that takes you away. That book you can read a 1,000 times and its still new. I wish I had one (or more of those now.) I could really use a portal to Narnia

#3 Snacks-or a gift card to Mc Donalds

#4 If you are a video junkie, Music and Movies-along with those noise cancelling headphones.

#5 Journal/sketch pad/camera

#6 A single lightly packed carry on. Seriously, check the rest of it. You don't want to be lugging around multiple bags all day

#7 Comfy shoes and a pair of clean socks.

#8 a toothbrush and deodorant

#9 Layers

#10 A traveling buddy

#11 a since of the moment, an ability to reflect on the past, the ability to be "alone" in a crowd

#12 a time piece

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

my visual aids for learning the Gospel's characteristics

Sometimes inspiration hits and you get distracted with pointless projects.

Below are the visual representations I will be using to help me remember the characteristics of the Gospels:

Matthew
Teacher/Collector

Discourses/The Church                                             


Mark
Action

Conflict/Fear
Problematic ending



Luke
Volume One of Two












Concern for the poor


John
Unique












wordplay/irony
misunderstanding
God as Father

And now back to work....

The Shack

So I have been reading the Shack lately. There is a chapter that shows a picture of (what I assume*) the author thinks heaven to be like. And in that chapter the picture is painted of someone entering heaven and all who are already gathered meeting for a celebration to welcome them home.

I like this idea.

I like the idea of dad enjoying a perfected creation, and waiting for me. I like the idea of my dad off enjoying nature, when someone stops by and says, "Hey, your son is here." I like the picture of my dad dropping everything and running out to meet me.

I don't think this is what the author intended when he wrote the chapter. But it is what was going through my mind as I read.

*For those of you who have read the Shack: It's the Chapter where Mac and his father are reunited. I haven't finished the book, so maybe it isn't heaven, but that was the impression I got.

Okay, so this season Sesame Street turns 40, and their focus is nature. I work as a naturalist and have an unhealthy attachment to all things Muppet.

But the cool thing is I just learned that Abby (a newer character) has a class pet that is a gerbil-corn, which I wonder if it is related to a gunnie-corn.

If the second sentence doesn't make any sense, don't worry, there are only like three people who would understand it.

randomness

I have had Muppets on the brain lately. Figured out why, Monday was the 19th anniversary of the passing of Jim Henson.

I am "home" in Long Beach now. I missed my church here dearly, but realize that God clearly has work for me elsewhere, and saw several examples of what He wants to do/is doing in and through the ministries at Grace I left to go to camp.

Church attendance in Occidental has been super sporadic at best. Still need some reliable transportation, as my schedule doesn't really gell with available rides.

I have 300 pics on my camera, I plan on posting some of them shortly.

Memorial Day weekend at camp is going to be crazy busy. Please pray that we all survive, with our good nature in tact.

Only two weeks left of teaching, then I become summer staff. I am no fan of physical labor (maintenance, et al.) and don't do well in the heat. Please be praying that physically, emotionally, and spiritually that I not only survive but thrive this summer. Please pray that while my strengths and my gifts won't be utilized this summer like they were during the winter season, that I maintain a positive attitude of service. (and that I get more kitchen/program/cleaning shifts than maintenance shifts)

Just a Thought

PLUS

EQUALS

The Geek Shall Inherit the Earth

I was in Target today, and among my purchases was the X-Men movies (Hey, the first two weren't bad, and it came with a $10 coupon for the Wolverine Movie.) The 20 something female Target worker commented on the purchase asking if I was getting ready for the new Wolverine movie, and that she was excited for the film. She also mentioned that before Return of the King came out she bought the other two films and watched them in preparation.

Comics and geekdom ain't just for kids (or even just for boys) any more.

On a tangentially related note, is it sad the thing I am most excited about in relation to the upcoming Captain America film is all the tie-ins that will be hitting the shelves?