After a day at work, I plotted a course directly for the Boulder Public Library, where I read for a while about the philosophy of existentialism. When physical fatigue took over, I laid my head on a desk and slept for a while, and then read some more.

My vaguely theoretical plan was to possibly go to meditation / Buddhist intro class afterward, but by the time I looked at the clock, it was already 18:55. I didn't feel like rushing, nor did I want to show up late, so since I didn't feel terribly committed to this course of action, I stuck my nose back into the book and continued reading.

I started to get restless after a bit, so I shut the book, stood up, and exited the building. Plan revised, I began to saunter over to Pearl Street. (I've been doing a lot of "sauntering" lately.)

Wandered up and down the mall, making stops at the Boulder Bookstore and Wherehouse Music (didn't buy anything at either), and slowed my pace occassionally while passing the street performers. One of the attractions, a choir, all male, was going up and down the mall singing religous music. "The Old Rugged Cross" while I passed them. To use a Jaeger-style euphemism, I "flagged" this as sligtly unusual, given the setting.

Eventually, I decided to get something to eat. I considered Illegal Pete's, but pizza sounded better. I went to Pizza Colore, ordered a red with pepperoni, a pesto with garlic, and a nice big root beer. Mmmmm.

Took my food outside, sat on a conveniently empty bench nearby, and as I ate, I watched the people go by while the sun set. (Read: Pretended to nonchalantly watch the entire procession of people going by, but actually focused most of my attention on the hot chicks. Hey, I'm a human, red-blooded, heterosexual male! Gimme a break.)

Having finished my food, I began to recline a bit on the bench. Full, fat little belly (oxymoron alert) settling peacefully, I compared my countenance to that of the great and mighty Tux, as I sipped away at my root beer. I considered getting up and heading back to Tobias, but it felt too peaceful to leave just yet. Besides, I wanted to contemplate a bit on what I had read at the library.

Just then, a young man (I flagged as high school age, maybe college) came up and asked if I minded if he could sit down. I had no objection.

"Beautiful evening, isn't it?"

I agreed. "Yes, it sure is."

"Have any plans for the 4th of July?"

"I might go see the fireworks." At this point, I was beginning to wonder about this seemingly good-natured fellow. He seemed friendly enough, but it is unusual in this day and age to have a complete stranger walk up and ask about your 4th of July plans.

"Where do you go to see the fireworks?"

"Folsom Field is a good place."

He asked where Folsom Field is, admitting zero familiarity with the area, since he's from New York. I attempted to give vague directions, but didn't know the exact street, so I just said "It's on the University Campus," and pointed in the general direction.

"Oh, at CU?"

I replied in the affirmative.

After that, a slight pause, and then it began. "I'd like to tell you about the wonderful friend I've found in Jesus Christ. He is my Lord and Savior, and He can save us all from our sins. How do I know this? Because the Bible gives me proof. In John 3:16, it says, 'For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.' We've all sinned, haven't we? But we can find salvation in His love. Wouldn't it be great to be forgiven for your sins?"

This went on for a couple of minutes. Well, at least now I knew. So that's the name of the game. Outputting any kind of serious answers to his rhetorical questions would not have been possible, given that whenever I did not immediately answer with argeement, he just kept on talking. Like a good salesman, I suppose.

So after a bit, I just stopped trying, sat back, smiled, and let him talk, never expressing either agreement or disagreement. Stomach full of pizza, I was feeling quite amusable. I let the Tux posture take full form. I considered getting up to walk away with a polite "I've gotta go", but the truth was that I was taking a perverse amusement in the whole encounter. Besides, the air was fresh, the sun was going down, and I didn't want to get up! So I sat, concealing the inner laugh. Having just watched Dogma the weekend before, I pondered the question What would Kevin Smith do?

He continued to exclaim about his wonderful faith, and explain how Jesus could save me, and rattled off some more Bible verses. You know the drill. Eventually, I think he saw that he was going to get neither an "I believe" or a "This sounds wonderful! Where can I learn more about it?" from me, and began to slow down. It gradually became a conversation again.

I asked if he was with that group that had been singing. He was. They're traveling the country to tell people about the love of God. He told me a little bit about himself, how he grew up in New York state, and was awarded a scholarship to play football as quarterback at university there, but after the first year, his life felt empty, until he got to know Jesus, at which time he switched schools to go to Pensacola Christian College to study to become a pastor. (With more bits of proselytizing inserted between sentences. I figure it comes with the territory.)

He asked me whether I believed in Heaven. This time, actually expecting an answer. I replied that I had been raised Christian, so I was quite familiar with the stuff he had been saying, but that I am no longer into it, nor do I believe in it.

He told me about how in his talks with a lot of teens in church groups, many of them had grown and given up the faith as they got older, despite how much Christ loved them and was willing to forgive their sins. This to his great dismay.

I suggested that "Maybe they haven't had the same experiences in life that you have."

"But see, it's not about experiences in life at all! It's about Jesus Christ, and his everlasting love, which is what the Bible tells us about!" And on it went. (Nevermind that his entire knowledge of Jesus Christ and the Bible must have come through some sort of experience in his life. Duuuuuh.)

Having tested the waters with that bit, I decided that rational conversation regarding theological topics was going to be impossible. I considered him a lost cause. I'm sure he thought the same of me with regard to such matters.

As the minutes wore on, in between his exclamations about the Bible, we talked about occupations, the size of families we each came from, the possibility that his group will go on a hike in the mountains tomorrow and see fireworks on the 4th, and other smalltalk. He really did seem like a nice, well-meaning guy. Forehead-deep in the propaganda, but still good-natured. And green. Very, very green.

Eventually, it reached the point where nothing more could be said. As the pink light behind the hills dimmed, we agreed that it was a beautiful sunset. He obviously was looking for a way to gracefully exit, and my sentiments were similar. "And if there's one thing I know, it's that Jesus is the answer." (Couldn't help but think of Wesley Willis upon hearing that. lol.)

"Well, it was nice talking to you, [name omitted]." We shook hands, and parted.

On the way home, I pondered this odd little encounter, in more ways than one. I couldn't help but think, "And now I remember why I wanted out of ucollege.edu" No, the fellow students I knew there did not try to push their religion on me (well, not the ones I chose as friends, at any rate). But the institution did, and understandably so, since that's its purpose.

When it's an encounter with some oddball on Pearl Street, it's entertaining. When it's "worship credits" that need to be attained week in and week out, it's downright obnoxious, to put it mildly. End rant.

In another strange way, I couldn't help but admire this little dude. It's not an easy thing to spend your summer walking up to total strangers to just start chatting with people, about anything. How could I rain on his Jesus Parade, as earnest as he was? Besides, he gave me something interesting to ramble on and on about. In these content dieting times, I think that's a good thing.

Alright, it's burning up in here. Sweat city. I'm gonna get some water and fresh air before bed.

Ding.