or Dinner with Alabama.
One of the best parts of keeping a blog that's really more of a personal narrative/ journal is that no one really cares if you update regularly.
Last week there was a fantastic dance for our Middle School put on by FCA. It was outdoors and they decorated with Christmas lights, had a little stage for karaoke, provided a chocolate fountain for refreshments and filled the night with (appropriate) music chosen by the students themselves. I had never been asked to chaperone, but I am a paranoid girl and thought I should make an appearance. Plus, hanging out with middle school students is way more fun in an extra-curricular environment than it is having them in class.
I am so glad I went. It was the best dance I had ever chaperoned. There weren't the ridiculous bump and grind issues of the high school dances, the students seemed more willing to dance without worrying about whether or not they looked silly, and there was a great moment where one of the teachers taught everyone a shortened version of the Thriller dance and then everyone danced to one of Michael Jackson's best songs, like they do in the movies.
The night is not memorable, however, solely because of the dance. That night a colleague and I went out for a quick bit to eat. We ended up at this fantastic burrito place Cool Blue Burrito. It's reminiscent of Chipotle and Moe's but it's even more delicious and it's locally owned (yeah!). We sat outside and were enjoying our respective meals when a homeless man walked up, sat down near us and played his guitar. He was very polite, asking permission and taking requests and we invited him to join us for dinner. His name was Gary, but everyone called him Alabama. I, being a lover of nicknames, opted to call him Alabama. We had a great time, learning about Alabama's life and listening to his music, some of which he wrote himself. We tipped him well, and I'll admit, I bought him a beer with his dinner. (I encourage my students to give the homeless food instead of money to eliminate the temptation to spend the money on alcohol. I myself, apparently, supply the alcohol directly.) And when he left us, soon after he finished eating, he left us with a dirty joke. All in all, it was good fun and a good experience.
I feel like I should be wrapping this up with a moral or Bible verse or challenge, but I don't have anything like that. Dinner with Alabama was the first time I had ever sat down and talked with a homeless person. We didn't talk about being homeless, we talked about life, we spent a lot of time laughing. Alabama didn't define himself by his socioeconomic state and by the end of dinner, neither did I. I have no moral or Bible verse. I have no challenge. I have only this story, this experience, and it's one I thought worthy of being remembered.
