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Originally appeared in APeX Attack #4 (June 1999)
Gene's Journal (sort of)
I was not as diligent as I should have been in my journal
writing over the past four months (and I lost some of my writings).
That makes me a little sad to know that the feelings of the moment
are lost. What follows is bits and pieces of thoughts and stories
from the past four months.
The “Holy Hockey Stick” and other adventures
of the Papal Visit
We get off the plane and head to baggage claim to claim our
luggage. There is no one there to pick us up. So we sit down.
On every seat in the luggage claim area there is a pamphlet explaining
that the Pope is the antichrist. Eventually someone arrives to
get us and she escorts us out to a van. We are to ride to the
hotel with one other group of people and their flight is late
so we have to wait. The driver of the van introduces himself
as “Spanky”. Yes, a man in his mid-thirties who goes
by Spanky. He is a professional runner (basically takes care
of all the needs of performing artists when they come to town).
As he talks about his job he tells us of all the people he has
gotten to meet and how unfortunately high on themselves they
are. How one singer walked into the dressing room and said, “These
flowers are two days old, I want fresh ones.” But the best
story of all was of the female singer who demanded that a new
toilet seat be put in the dressing room bathroom. Now after the
last two and half years of my life, I can see how celebrities
change. I know if everyday of my life I was told I was the greatest
thing in the world by everyone and everything I did was good
that I would change too, but it’s sad to think it happens....I
was in the production office of the Papal Visit the day before
the Pope was to arrive in St. Louis. We were there to do sound
check, get a lay of the land, and figure out what we were going
to do. I had a question and the woman I needed to ask was on
the phone. As I was waiting, I noticed a hockey stick which was
leaning up against the wall next to her. I picked it up and started
to balance it on my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed
that she was hanging up the phone. I grabbed the hockey stick
from my chin to set it down. As I grabbed it I noticed that it
was autographed by all of the St. Louis Blues. The woman hung
up the phone and said, “That is a gift for the Holy Father.”…We
decided that since we were going to be performing for 30,000
people, it would be a good thing to be on our game. So we decided
that we needed to practice our club piece. The trouble was finding
a place to practice which was out of the way. You would think
that with a building as large as the Kiel Center finding a room
that was vacant would not be a problem. Especially considering
the building was secure. No one without credentials was to be
let in the building (Actually we got into the building the first
time without going through security, but I don’t think that
is a good thing to bring up). The problem was that many of the
rooms were locked and sealed because they had been checked for
bombs and the U.S. Secret Service decided it would be easier
to patrol if they had fewer rooms to check. The day before the
event, after much searching we made our way into the mechanics
room of the Kiel Center. An out of the way place, which was quiet.
It was great. The day of the event we were (continued on page
6) not as lucky. We walked into our secret hiding spot to find
a dozen men in very nice suits sitting on a couch watching TV.
So at this point we are trying to open every door that is not
sealed with “NO BOMB” sticker. I find an open door.
I look at the sign on it and it reads “DC Talk Dressing
Room”. I look in and all I see is a stack of guitar cases
and a fruit tray. We go in to practice, but the lighting is very
poor so after about 20 minutes we decide to move on. Next we
find ourselves in one of the locker rooms, but there is lots
of traffic in and out. It turns out to be the dressing area for
the youth choir. We head back to our original spot. This time
there are only two very well dressed men. We ask very sheepishly
if we can warm up in there. They were cool with it. As we start
one of them comes over and pulls up a chair right next to us
to watch. So we start chatting. It turns out that he is on the
bomb squad and the room we are in is the break room for them.
We come to find out that there is 150 teams of two that are here
just on bomb duty.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
From time to time youth ministers are known to do crazy things.
I myself enjoy the fact that I get to play and participate in
silliness for my livelihood. From time to time we all have the
tendency to go off the deep end losing our hold on reality. We
met a youth minister along the way, who will remain nameless
so s/he will remain employed, who lost their grip on reality.
This youth minister often gave away gag gifts on trips for best
attitude, going out of the way to help, last to breakfast and
the like. The prizes were generally of a very silly nature. Many
times because the award was being given in a way to gently make
fun of the individual (e. g. most likely to fall off the mountain
given to a beginning skier) the award itself was not necessarily
the most desirable prize. So it was very late at night and the
youth minister in question was very sleep deprived (yes it is
a shock to think that a youth minister could be sleep deprived)
the night before a trip and s/he was looking for prizes at a
24 hr drug store. When s/he got to the check out counter s/he
saw the chewing tobacco. S/he thought the kids would think it
was disgusting to get dip, so s/he bought some. Now at what point
a youth minister would think it is reasonable to buy drugs of
any type for jr. high kids is amazing (we will chalk it up to
the lack of sleep), but I can just imagine the conversation s/he
had in his/her mind. “Lets see…should I get the Red
Chief or the Copenhagen. You know what would be really funny
is to not get dip, but chew instead. I can just see the kids
laughing now.”
Army of angels
Steve Angrisano lives in Littleton, CO. One week after the
shooting we were at a youth rally with Steve and he led the closing
prayer for the day. He said something like: “Lots of kids
have come up to me and asked how could something like this happen?
How could God let this happen. God had given us the ultimate
gift of free will, and those young men used that free will, but
God did not stand idly by. When those two young men walked into
that school I believe an army of angelscame rushing in as well.
One girl was shot nine times from close range and not one of
her vital organs were hit. 70 pipe bombs went off inside the
school and they killed no one. Those are miracles. God has given
us all free will and is not going to stop us from making a choice
we want to make, in the same way God did not stop those boys,
but God is always there.”
We are bad rock stars
As we got off the plane in Detroit we were not quite sure
what to expect. The week before had been very hectic so I had
not talked to the people who were running the event in a while.
As I got off the plane I scanned the crowd for a mother holding
a hand made sign (reading “APEX”). Not seeing one,
I started heading towards the baggage claim. That is when Brad
stopped me. He said, “You missed our ride. It is right here.”
I looked back to see a man in a suit holding a sign, which read
“Mr. Monterastelli” . I approached him and said, “That’s
me!” He looked at me, like “Yeah right”, but figured
whatever. After getting our bags we arrived at the driver’s
car. It was a black Cadillac, with tinted windows, and leather
seats. We get into the back seat of the car to find a copy of
both of the Detroit’s papers. As we are riding to the hotel
the driver asks if we would like the radio turned on. We say
sure. He asks what kind of music we would like to listen to and
we said, “What ever you like.” Like we were putting
the driver out. He asks if jazz is ok. “Oh, sure what ever
you would like.” We are just not cracked up to be demanding
rock stars. Once again, we proved we are just like rock stars
in every way except for the fact that we are not rock stars.
The key is Jesus
During the homily of the closing mass at one of the conferences
we were at everyone was given an uncut key with the word Jesus
engraved on it. We were all invited to “Open the doors to
Christ” and now we all had the key to do it. The key was
uncut because each of us makes our own cuts and has our own way
of letting Jesus into our lives. After the presentation we did
a young woman came up to me in tears. She very much felt a connection
to a story I shared from my own life. We talked and hugged and
cried. She told me of a bottle of pills (painkillers) she had
in her room which were prescribed to help deal with an injury
she had. She said many days that when things were really bad
she thought about taking all of the pills. I suggested that she
get the bottle out of sight, if not get rid of them. Later I
received an e-mail from her which read, “I got rid of the
bottle of pills. In its place on the shelf I placed my key to
Jesus. Now when I feel bad I see the key and have hope.”
Where to go
One Tuesday night at a show I ran into a guy by the name
of Shane whom I had briefly met in October of 1997. At that time
he had just joined a new community of young adults who were just
trying to figure out what it must be like to get back to the
roots of the early church. They didn’t have any other plan
than to start this community and see where the Lord was going
to lead them. When it started there were lots of kids around,
so they started tutoring them. There were lots of homeless around,
so they started feeding them. They realized if everyone is my
brother and sister they need to be invited in, but the house
they lived in was too small so they went out to them. It is illegal
to lie on the sidewalk in Philadelphia now (basically that means
it is illegal to be homeless). So they staged a protest and got
arrested and went to court and WON. When we travel people look
at me and go, “Wow, you left a great paying computer job
to work with these young people.” Sure I make about 1/6th
of what I would make as a computer programmer. And yes, cheese
is a luxury in my life, but! But I travel all over the country.
People open their homes and make their own kids sleep on the
floor so we can have beds. They make special meals with extra
desserts. They hug us. They pray for us. I return from travel
to a modest house I rent (a lot of space for one person in DC).
People look at me and say I have given up so much. I am not saying
having good things in my life is bad. That I should wander the
street in ash and sack cloth, but I wonder if I am truly thankful
(continued on page 9) for what I have. I wonder if I have become
dependent on luxuries in my life I truly do not need to find
joy. I wonder if I truly am answering my call, or if I am just
having fun being a rock star.
A piece of my childhood (and my today) died
On May 10th, 1999 Shel Silverstein died. To say the least
I have always been a huge fan of his work and I will never know
the impact he had on my appreciation for poetry and short stories.
His poem Hug-a-war is one of my all time favorites. I brought
up his death to many of my friends who also grew up on his work
and none of them had heard the news. It is almost tragic that
a man of such stature and talent would pass without much media
attention. This made me think of a newspaper clipping I saved
from the spring of 1993. This is an excerpt from a letter by
Matthew Bolin, which ran on the front page of USA Today. “I
was dismayed to find that the death of author Richard Scarry
could only garner a footnote in your Lifeline section May 3,
but that Kurt Cobain’s passing—mainly due to the label
that he was the voice of a generation—got a week’s
worth of news, analysis and tributes. I may be technically in
the group that has been dubbed Generation X—I’m 20—but
I can tell you for certain that while I was growing up Richard
Scarry’s books were a lot more important and influential
on me than Kurt Cobain’s music was the couple of years I
knew Nirvana.” It is very unfortunate that we undervalue
the true heroes we have and that we are not even aware enough
to miss them when they are gone.
Other thoughts
There is great sadness when a person has to choose between
their own well being (mental and physical) and supporting a friend.
It is hard when one is posed with choices and one knows regardless
of the choice they make they are going to cry…My first reaction
to the Columbine incident was: “I can’t imagine how
much pain those boys must have felt to drive them to choose to
do such a hideous act.”…It will never cease to amaze
me the number of kids who walk up to me and say, “I thought
I was the only one who felt that way.” It is amazing that
so many young people can be in so much pain and feel that no
one else around them is hurting at all. Why do we feel we have
to look so strong?…A mother went up to receive communion
with her child in here arms. As they were walking back to their
seat the child said, “I want a cookie too.” The child
was right, the Eucharist is a real treat. |