Snapshots from my silly youth

I saw a bunch of people from high school this past weekend. Seeing them brought back a whole bunch of memories. I was pleasantly surprised that the guilt of my youth didn't all come roaring back with each memory. The redeeming power of a relationship with Jesus in action.

Here are some of the memories. Snapshots from my silly youth.

I saw Jessica Schaetzke and I remembered this: The spring after my sophomore year, Jessica and I and about 30 others went on a choir trip to Europe--Germany, Czech Republic, and Poland. Our tour was two weeks long and we sang a concert, with songs like Tanguendo and Prayer of the Children in them, every day, and one day two. We sang in churches much older than any in the US. I remember they each had stunning stain glass windows--must have taken years and years just to create and build them. In one church in Ulm we climbed over 700 steps to the top of the church steeple. We saw so many castles they almost became indistinct. We toured Auschwitz and Birkenau, sang a song at the shooting wall, and held each other and wept. I remember all I wanted at that moment was family, and I grabbed my sister Anna and we found some solace from the incredible sorrow of that place.

And every night Brian, Jeff, Zack and I would go to the local discos and bars. I had my first beer in Germany. I bought my first fifth of vodka in Prague. I almost passed out on a park bench in Heidlburg. I survived the most insane taxi ride--imagine tiny, tight little European roads, traveled at ridiculously stupid high speeds, and me and Jeff in the back seat literally hanging on for dear life. Granted we were drunk--so it was probably not nearly as bad as we thought it was. I remember the chaperone parents buying us drinks--this of course struck me as incredibly ironic, but I didn't turn down their offers. I recalled some of these memories with Jessica, and she was surprised to hear that I did any of this--I was a pretty straight-laced kid. I remember I felt horribly bad that Sparky had to sit out the last concert because he had a glass of wine with the host family--he was punished for the sins of the rest of us party-ers.

I saw Dave Luchsinger and I remembered this: We wore sparkly vests in Pops Choir in Jr. High. He always did an excellent John Wayne impersonation in math class. He wanted to become a policeman. And he did.

Neither of us were sure what to think of the other growing up. I think we wanted to be friends but there were elements of each of our character that rubbed against each other in an aggravating way. He was carefree, had no problem talking to girls, and I was a hard-nosed, self-righteous goober...who wished he could talk to girls. I think we settled all that this past weekend. If given the opportunity, I would choose to spend much more time getting to know Dave. Turns out we share a love for Mumford & Sons--so we can't not be friends.

I saw John Wiger and remembered this: In seventh grade I was the new kid in school. Heck, I was the new kid in school with the weird name who had just come from being home-schooled. Recipe for social suicide. Which I committed numerous times. Randomly around the end of the year things started looking up though. I had made a friend (Greg--whose wedding we were all celebrating this past weekend), I was learning to shut my big mouth and therefore I hadn't gotten beaten up in a few weeks.

This was the year I would discover my love of theatre. It all started when I got recruited to help on the set crew for that year's musical, The Wizard of Oz. Yeah, you heard right...set crew. I wore all black. I moved with lightning speed. I made no sound. And I moved sets between scenes. This is where I met John. He was a Sr. Higher. But he got recruited to move sets too. Oddly enough some of the theatre girls started taking notice of me--I think it was all the black, which is probably why I still wear so much of it. Anyway--my lasting memory of John was this. He saw these jr. high drama queens (on many levels) trying to talk to me and he surmised this...he said, "Asa, you're the shiz."

I don't know what that is, but I think it's good.