80 year old conversations

I go to the gym around 6:30 everyday. Army has put a big fear in me that when I’m needed I won’t be ready… And that I need to pass the next APFT. There is quite the array if characters that early in the morning. Depending on the day there are high schoolers at swim practice, some running basketball drills, and one college kid lifting weights. For the most part, it’s me and those much older than me.

Locker room conversation changes between the age groups. The high schoolers are boisterous, too boisterous at that time in the morning, talking about school and teachers and each other. They talk a lot about each other, comparing their last meet or practice. When school comes up, it’s complaints… About the lunches, about the teachers, about how slow the halls are. The older crowd talk about politics, sports, retirement, and their kids. They complain about politics and sports, they plan for retirement, and they glory in their kids.

I never join in. I’m too old for one crowd and too young for the other. I have nothing to add to the conversation. Even when they talk baseball, a sport I’m new to and am comfortable in the amount of knowledge I have so far, I defer to listen. They mostly talk football, anyway.

But their conversations, both old and young, are pretty shallow. They only reveal their opinions and never get deeper, which is ok. I dunno that a public locker room is the place for baring one’s soul. The young guy talking about his teacher wants his cohorts to agree, and will argue his point. The older guy will argue about the football team and he wants to hear his friend say, “you’re right.”

Both old and young are having ancient conversations. I imagine these are the conversations that wiled at the disciples’ time as they walked from Galilee to somewhere else. And I don’t think al of Abraham’s slaves walked silently behind their master. No, the oldest conversations are the smallest, the murmurs and the grumbling.

Jesus was so good at getting to the heart of things, to see the conversations, the grumbling, for what they really are. They’re not just ways to pass the time, they reveal the heart. Even the shallow parts of the heart are the heart still.

My challenge is am I listening? Am I paying attention to what’s really being talked about? When given the opportunity, am I saying something that matters or am I jut making noise and splashing about in the shallow end?

I choose….

I was somewhat amazed by the televised coverage of Lebron’s decision last night.  Not because I really cared where he ended up, but there was so much interest in it.  An hour long “special” all to find out where he was going, and why he went.  Questions for his motivations were insightful (winning alot seemed really important).  He was grateful for his old teammates and what the old franchise had done for him.  But really, an hour long event?  And then the pre-show, where fans were asked how this move would impact them.

It was ESPN, so they were doing their job.  It was about sports and it was a big deal… but I wonder how many kids dreamt last night about a news conference dedicated to their decision?

Last night, I dreamt that I had a doughnut and I woke up hungry.  It was a good doughnut.  It made me hungry.  So hungry that I woke up craving it.  Honey-nut Cheerios did not cut it this morning.