My Favorite Place in Jacksonville

I like to write about things that I love.  This is about my favorite coffee shop in Jacksonville.  It’s a little place called “Sippers Coffee House.”  If you are a local to Jacksonville, or even if you just make it to town every once in a while, you need to stop by this place – you will fall in love with it.  This is the Yelp rating on it.

It is a quaint little shop on the corner of a small little island of other little shops.  There is an old stereo against the wall that is always playing the old songs of the 40’s - 60's.  Right now, as I sit in the small study booth they have, a big band is playing on the radio and it’s riffing off a light jazz melody. 

There are two old wooden pews against one wall with a couch and two comfy chairs with a lamp between them.  In one corner, there is a piano with the cover up, keys exposed, tempting anyone to sit down and play.  There is a TV that is always on silent, and almost always has old black and white movies playing. 

On the way to the bathrooms, you’ll notice a rack with white boxes stacked up that say “Fresh Vegetables” on the side.  Sippers doubles as a pickup location for the Veggie Bin, a service you can sign up for that allows you to buy in season, fresh vegetables from local farmers.  From what I gather, you never quite know what’s going to be in the box – just that it was grown locally, some are certified as strictly organic, and that they are the veggies that are in season.

As part of the décor, there is an old coffee grinder that is actually identical to the one my family used when I was growing up.  Until just now, I didn't realize how odd it was that we used something this antique to grind our coffee beans each morning, but I also love that we did. 

There is a world map on the wall with probably two hundred pins stuck in various places around the globe.  There is a small box of pins and you are encouraged to pin anywhere in the world you have been. 

So far, I have said nothing about the coffee, bagels, pastries, tea, iced smoothies, free wifi, home made cookies, or even their cold chicken salad sandwiches which are really top notch, because they are only one part of the reason I love Sippers. 

My favorite thing about Sippers is a recent addition.  The bookshelf against one wall will now be a community library, where you can grab books you want to read and put books you don’t use.  I love this idea, not only because it was my suggestion (though they had been meaning to do something like it for a while), but because it gives me one more reason to stop by and spend an afternoon. 

Our Ethical Response to Prostitution

This post deals with the moral responsibility of a society towards the abuse of prostitutes.

Because I am a Christian who believes that we are created by God, I find the idea of exchanging sex for money highly contradictory to my personal morals.  However, as a Christian I want to, and am even commanded to, love people, love mercy, and advocate for those who are being abused. 

So here is the question: should prostitution be decriminalized?

An automatic response by much of the Christian church must no doubt be an absolute “No!” in an effort to steer our country away from a lewd society void of any morals, but I would ask you to really consider the question and not just respond before you think. 

Women who are in prostitution are often not there by choice, but even if they are, they are subject to environments of high abuse, violence, and the constant danger of murder.  When a prostitute is being beaten or tortured, who can she call?  Her environment is dangerous, and the police, the protectors of the powerless, function as the enemy who should be avoided at all cost.  They are doubly bound and have no way of help. 

So, if that is the case, what is the ethical response?  Throwing abused women in prison doesn't fix anything, and it’s not economically feasible.  Because the system that is currently in place perpetuates abuse and binds abused women from every angle, what is a society’s ethical response?  Providing a source of help from the police might be the necessary first step. 

As a last word, I want to say that I am genuinely open to feedback from anyone who would like to comment in the box below this post.  However, since this might be a touchy topic for some people, I’m going to ask that each post be gracious.  If there is vulgarity or prejudice or sweeping and mindless claims, I’m going to take them out.  This is a place for mature, rational, ethical discussion.  

On Journaling

I think everyone should journal, or keep a diary or whatever you’d like to call it.  I've always thought keeping a journal sounded more masculine, and keeping a diary sounded like an object in a pink room with a locket on it that an emotional teen confesses her crushes to.  Therefore, I journal.  

I’m also getting pretty good at it too.  If anyone ever uses it as material for a biography, they’ll find I have a far better vocabulary in my journal than I ever did in real life.  I am also far more articulate and gracious and charming.  Maybe that’s because I have a tendency to write my journal with the subconscious notion that someone else is going to eventually read it and I want to paint a flattering picture of myself.  Keeping a journal makes me realize that I am still a very self-centered person.  It also makes me realize that there are parts of my character that are changing, and some parts that just refuse to budge.  The goal is, of course, to be as real on paper as you are in real life – but I suppose I’m still working through that.  

There are parts of my journal (and my history) that I wish I could erase, and thanks to my garbage can, I have erased.  I have only ever thrown away one journal, and I didn't even throw away all of it. There was one page that I felt would go very well in my biography, so I kept it.  The worst part about that one page, is that on the other side, was something I really, really wanted to throw away.  Darn it.  Maybe I can just write a note on there to the editor of my future biography to just read the one side.  The section I threw away was an entire journal I filled with entries about a crush I had.  Maybe that makes it a diary by my own standards and maybe that’s why I didn't keep it.  This crush lasted for two years, so the journal was pretty full by the time I was “over” her  Reading it just made me nauseated, and I didn't want that to be a ‘part of my history’ so I just tossed it.  

I advise everyone to journal as much as possible.  As humans, and especially in this country as Americans, we have a very short attention span and a very short memory.  We live “in the moment” in all the wrong ways.  But we are fools if we think that we can simply close our eyes and pretend that we sprang out of the ground as the beings we currently are, and have no embarrassing history to blush about.  If you are ashamed of your past, congratulations, you are just like everyone else you've ever know.    

But a journal is like the recipe card that we keep that tells us what ingredients were used in the making of this person.  If you don’t know how you were made, how can you really know who you are?  Or who you might become?  Or even who you want to become?      

A Book I'm Working On

So these are two chapters from a book I'm working on that details everything you need to know to survive a job working for The Olive Garden.  I thought I might put a couple of the chapters on here just to see how they fair.

The first chapter I'm putting on here talks about how to be weeded with style, and the second chapter talks about the survival kit that every server should have in order to survive the mayhem of work.  Enjoy!

16 - Being Weeded With Style

Being weeded, as you may recall, means that you are so busy you cannot provide good service to your tables.  It also means that you will be doing a lot of walking (or jogging, or running).  I've often wondered how much I've walked at my job.  If I got a pedometer and kept track of my steps, surly I've knocked off a few marathons worth of walking.  Plus, if I make up a fake charity, I can just apply all of that mileage to it and claim some kind of humanitarian superiority over everyone else. 

“You ran a 5k for education?  Huh, well I walked four marathons to support struggling college students pay rent and feed themselves.  I just feel so rewarded for my charity work, you know?  Like I’m giving…but I’m also receiving more than I could have ever thought.” 

Anyway, being weeded with style.  Here are some quick tips to help you stay out of the weeds as much as possible.

·         Ask for help.  Obviously, no one will help you, but asking for it is an important part of being weeded with style.  If the requests are small and easy to accomplish, this will increase your odds of getting a coworker to take 30 seconds on your behalf.  “Can you drop off this check at table 52” is far more likely to get a positive response than “can you pass out all the food for my party of teenagers in the back room?”

·         Ask people who like you.  If you have some clout, now is the time to use it.  After all, chances are you’re not actually going to need to move a body and have to call in “the big one” from any of your friends.  Cash in on your positive relationships in small ways and be sure to reciprocate when they are weeded. 

·         Prioritize your energy.  If you have two tables, one wants a refill on salad, and the other hasn't gotten salad yet, choose to give food to those who don’t have any, rather than expending your energy on giving more food to people who already had some.  Remember, people are at their worst when they are hungry and ignored.  Feed the hungriest people first.

·         When you get double sat, treat both tables as if they are one table.  This doesn't mean talk to them both at the same time – it means that you greet one, get their drink order, and then rather than going to get those drinks while the second table sits feeling unnoticed, greet one, get the order, greet two, get the order.  Then bring all the drinks at the same time.  Get everyone’s order for food, bring all the salad/soup/bread at the same time.  This will save you a ton of time and will help you if you ever get sat in the café and get six tables at the same time.  It’s doable.  Just pretend they’re all together.

·         If you do find yourself exceptionally busy, make a joke to your tables about how your managers must think you’re superman/superwoman, and that their faith might be misplaced.  This tells your tables many things.    1) You are extremely busy, but it’s not entirely your fault.  2) You have a sense of humor about it.  3) The management thinks you’re a capable person, but they don’t really understand your limits.  This one is important because everyone who has a job feels like they are capable and that their managers do not understand their limits.  You are both humanizing yourself while simultaneously allying yourself with your customer. 

·         Walk quickly.  This seems like it should be obvious, but some people, regardless of how urgent the task, seem to only have one speed.  Microturtle.  Pick up the pace man, I've got places to go. 

·         Don’t complain.  Alright, if you must, you can make one comment to one person about how busy you are, but the less complaining you do, the more positive you will stay, the better you can do your job.  Griping about how hard you have to work just makes you sound childish.  It goes something like this:

You: “Aah!  Those dumb hosts double sat me again!  I’m so weeded!  I can’t believe this!”

Me: “I know!  They should rename this place and call it “work” so that it adequately describes what is expected of us while we are paid money to be here!  Jeeze…”

*You now hate me.

·         If you have a high maintenance table (one that is slow about order, wants to ask a question about everything on the menu, needs refills of diet coke every two minutes, etc) don’t be afraid to politely let the hosts know that you might need a minute to catch up.  They don’t know if you don’t tell them.  So don’t expect them to know just because you are thinking it.  That would be stupid.

·         If you have a high maintenance table, here’s a trick to stop them.  Be more high maintenance than they are.  This sounds mean?  No, this goes far beyond being passive aggressive to express your displeasure – this delves deep into the human psyche.  *cue dramatic music.  Here’s what I mean.  If a table stops you every time you walk past to ask you for something, out do them.  Get what they need and then expressly check in with them every time you see them.  After a bit, they will get tired of asking you for things, and will realize that you volunteered rather than begrudgingly obliged them, and will feel gratitude to you.  Even if they are obviously content, go up and ask them if everything is alright every time you see them.  I say this, because when someone has a high maintenance table, the natural impulse is to avoid them.  Don’t.  Out do them and they will no longer be high maintenance. 

·         If, at the end of your table’s meal, you know that you did not give them the most impeccable service (or if you know that they think you did not give them the most impeccable service), tell your table that you usually prefer to spend more quality time at each table, but that you were so busy you couldn't.  The main thing this does is it tells your customers that your poor service was not personal.  When in doubt, people take any perceived offence as personally as it can possibly be taken – neutralize this and you will win.

3 - Survival Kit For Mayhem 

These are the things that you should always have with you so that you can meet every single crisis with poise and style.  These are, obviously, in addition to the clothes you are wearing.  If you needed to be told that, put this book down.  I mean it.

• Pens – Lots and lots of pens.  The more the better.  I still don’t know why, but for some reason, a lot of people like to steal pens.  I don’t know if it’s just a random surge of kleptomania, or if these people are genuinely living in a world of pencil shavings and chalk, and find that once the power of ink is in their hands, they will never relinquish it.  Either way, plan for thievery.  I will even encounter the brash soul who will inform me that they intend to steal my pen, simply because they like it.  I, of course, tell them that it is perfectly fine, but that I intend to steal their credit card until a mutual exchange can be arranged.  You can reduce the likelihood that someone will steal your pen if it came in a pack of twenty or more.  And don’t ever give out a clicky pen.  That’s just asking for trouble.  
• Money – Although this seems odd to those who do not work in a restaurant, the servers at Olive Garden carry their own money and make change for you out of their pockets.  So when you get that twenty dollar bill on a seven dollar ticket and are not told to keep the change, as much as you might hint, you have to make that change yourself.  Sure, you can go to the bartender and ask him to break it for you, but he is probably making himself his third cappuccino of the evening and can’t be bothered with your silly needs.  So bring a lot of singles to work.  Although this is not the only profession that involves a wad of single dollar bills, it is certainly the least exciting. 
• Jingle – I don’t exactly know who first started calling coins “jingle,” but I imagine that they lived in a tree house and called everything by the sound that it makes.  But at least in my store, quarters, dimes, nickels and the most useless currency of all, the penny, are fondly referred to as “jingle.”  Personally, I wouldn't mind a world where everything was rounded to the nearest quarter, but that might be asking too much of democracy.  Until my Utopian society emerges from the ashes of the filthy trio of pennies, nickels, and dimes, bring a pocket full of these forgotten remnants of past purchases you wished were thirty-seven cents cheaper.  I bring a pocket full of quarters and always round up for my tables.  This is just me though.
• Wine Key – This is part of your uniform, so don’t be caught without it.  It’s good for throwing up in the air and catching, opening cardboard boxes, fiddling with while you’re board, opening wine bottles in proper wine service fashion, and imagining that it could be used to stop a robbery, since this is the closest thing to a weapon you are allowed to have on your person.  My wine key occupies the latter purpose most frequently.  That little foil cutter could do some serious damage on a terrorist who happen to hate affordable and unlimited salad. 
• Key Card – This is what allows you to ring in food and close out checks.  It can also be used as a Frisbee, but not very well. 
• Cell Phone – Although you should never use, show, talk on, or text on, your cell phone while you are working, please have one with you.  Why?  So you will stop borrowing mine to call your daughter to come pick you up.  They are really affordable.  Please buy one.  Yvonne.
• Coasters – Although technically not part of your uniform, I thought I would mention them.  Mainly because they make better Frisbees than your key card.  But not by much.    
• Band-aids – Bring a couple just in case.  Plus, if you’re feeling like a smart aleck, you can peel one and stick it on your griping coworker and ask them if you should get their mommy to kiss their booboo and make the bad man say he’s sorry. 
• Don’t do that last one.  It’s a terrible idea and is only funny in your head.  You might get punched.  Twice.

"Tinkered by a Thousand Hands..."

I think it is extraordinarily important to understand and constantly remember the individual elements that make up the person you are.

To believe that you are a monolithic, self created, self sustaining entity, with no understanding of where you came from or what people had a hand in making you, is the height of arrogance. So, in an effort to cultivate in my behavior what I believe is good, I would like to take this post as an opportunity to think about and recognize those people who have made me who I am.

"Here I stand or fall, a man,
Tinkered by a thousand hands.
Countless people making me,
Forging, molding, patiently.
How do I thank a thousand hands,
That saw a treasure in the sand?
I choose to honor what they've done
By being another's, one thousand one."

To my father, I owe my patient nature.  I would not know what it is to be a patient man if I did not have his example my entire life.  He taught me that there is always more patience, and that the patience comes from hope.

To my mother,I owe my love of language and the knowledge that people are always more important than things. There are few things on this earth I love more than people and words, and I owe my love of both to my mother.

My brother Jon taught me, by virtue of example, that hard work and studious application opens doors to new opportunities.  Don't take your eyes off the prize.

To my brother James I owe my loyalty to things I believe in, and my steadfast belief that if no one else moving, they are probably waiting for you.

To my sister Kate, I owe my belief that I can probably do whatever it is I am unsure I can do, simply by virtue of being me, and the relentless knowledge that adventure is waiting.  Constantly.

To my brother Daniel, I owe a couple scars, the knowledge that I do, I fact, have a temper, and more deep conversations about the nature of God and the world than I could ever remember.

To my brother Patrick, I owe my great and relentless hope of heaven, the greatest moments of experiencing God's comfort I have ever known, and the joy of writing music.

To my brother Joel, I owe the death of the self centered notion that I am the only one like me.  Joel keeps me remembering that, no matter how it might seem, there is always someone who is going through what you have gone through.

To my wife Caroline, I owe the hope I find in my darkest times, the (still under developed) ability to not only see grand visions and world changing ideas, but also the details that make up those big ideas.  She is the calm guide to a crazy man, and I love her for it.

To Joanna, I owe my love of the nations, my deep understanding of God as a dear friend, and the reminder that crawling up in Jesus' lap for a good cry is sometimes exactly the right thing to do.

To Andrew, I owe my inner zealot, the notion that God can use someone to impact the world, and more random adventures than either of our mothers would prefer.

To Timothy I owe my first understanding of what like minded brothers in Christ looked like.  Every deep friendship I know started from the context on our first four hour conversation about everything under the sun.

To David I owe my first real understanding of what Christ-centered missions looks like.

There are countless others, but it is 2am and I have to be up by 6, so this will have to do.
Do yourself a favor and think about how you came to be the person you are.  I think you will find that it was not by accident, not in vane, and mostly, not of your own doing.

The Nearsightedness of Faith

People always say that faith is blind.  “Well, that’s just blind faith, you just have to trust.”  This has always bothered me – though not because it sounds trite or because I need to know everything before I do something. 

So, here is my modification of that idea.  Faith is not blindness – it is nearsightedness.  Here’s why:

Imagine life as a series of steps you have to take.  When people say that “faith is blind,” it is as though you can’t see any of those steps you need to take, and you just need to start walking into the darkness, trusting that you won’t run into anything.  In my experience, this is not how faith has presented itself. 

• Faith is knowing the first step, but not the twelfth.  
• Faith is not knowing what the third step is, but trusting that when you take the first step, the second will show itself.  
• Faith is knowing that “wait and do nothing” is a perfectly legitimate step to take.  
• Faith is not complete blindness, it’s just nearsightedness. 

You might feel like the path in front of you is dark and unsure and causeless – but trust that you always know what the next step is, and you need to take that step before anything else is made clear.  So rather than focus on figuring out every step of your life, focus on what the next step is that you might not be taking, and take it.