Among the challenges we face as we get older are misconceptions about who we are on the part of people who don’t know us. In our fast-paced culture, where the bombardment from external stimuli is a constant, we all take shortcuts when it comes to assessing others. Sadly, these often rely far too much on appearance. In my case, people see a rotund, gray-bearded man who’s clearly on the far side of forty. It’s difficult for them to keep from generalizing about who I am today (just an ”old guy”, with all the corresponding connotations) and even harder for them to imagine how I got here. The situation is exacerbated by the fact that when I try to describe my past life and experiences, particularly to younger people, they often perceive it as pontificating. Over time, I’ve learned to deal with this attitude by becoming more of a storyteller. In that regard, today’s post is more of a visual story (chronological) about my past and some of what I used to be.
In college, I was a pretty wild “frat boy” and manager of the fraternity house. All of the men pictured here eventually became successful lawyers, doctors, financial professionals, managers, etc. Erin the Irish Setter also lived a long and prosperous life. This was after one of our big parties, with me in the center – as usual.
For many years, I was an avid backpacker. Note the ”old school” equipment and dress – dating back to the late 1970′s and early 1980′s. That’s me on the left.
In this photo, I’m the one in the middle (red-checked shirt).
For many years, one of my best friends owned the staysail schooner Kelpie, based out of Dana Point in Southern California. I was a foredeck hand on the racing crew and we would take her out to meet all challengers in regattas throughout the area. She truly was a fast and exhilarating boat to sail. I rarely get an opportunity to sail anymore, but when I do, it’s like riding a bike – it all comes back pretty quickly.
In the early 1980′s I was still single and decided to take advantage of an opportunity to live in the North Lake Tahoe area. Here’s a picture of my street taken the day after I moved in. For the first 18 months, I lived in the Talmont neighborhood, just south of Tahoe City and about a mile from the back bowl of Alpine Meadows ski area.
I played baseball from the time I was seven and it’s still my favorite sport. Although I didn’t play for my high school team, I played in spring and summer leagues until right before I left for college. After college, I played competitive softball year-round, finally giving up the game when I was in my mid-30′s. The picture below is from a championship team I played on in Truckee, CA (I’m in the lower left and you can barely see the top of the trophy to my right). I remember this team fondly because it was the best I ever played for – at any level. We could always count on somebody to come up with the big play, hit, etc. exactly when we needed it. We used to say that we never actually “lost” a game, we just ran out of innings!
I was raised in the Roman Catholic church but fell away from the faith near the end of my high school years. While in the Tahoe area, I experienced a spiritual re-emergence, symbolically declaring my new commitment as a Christian by being baptized again…in a hot tub, no less!
For about ten years after our marriage, Barbara and I were “urban missionaries”, serving among spanish-speaking immigrants in San Francisco with Innerchange. Several years in, we got a vision to plant a bilingual church in the Mission district. Innerchange seconded us to the San Francisco Vineyard, with whom we partnered to start the new church. Because we considered ourselves interim “missionary pastors”, we eventually turned the church over to a leadership team that we developed. The photos below are from one of our baptism services at Aquatic Park in San Francisco. In that regard, I’m definitely not what I used to be - I can no longer envision myself baptizing people in the cold waters of the bay.
Me and Barbara are in the middle-right of this picture (she’s wearing a red jacket).
A number of years ago, I learned a valuable lesson about assessing people based on their appearance. Rachel was just an infant when Barbara and I took advantage of a “respite” ministry established for missionaries and pastors by people living in or near resort communities. The location we chose was in southwest Colorado, just outside the town of Pagosa Springs. On on a day trip out to the Mesa Verde area, we ended our visit in a conversation with one of the docents – a sweet “old man”. I immediately pigeonholed him as a typical retiree living a simple (and relatively inexpensive) life out in the country. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that he had been a military and civilian test pilot at the old Muroc (later Edwards) Air Force base in California. Several months before, after watching the movie “The Right Stuff” for the umpteenth time, I got the bug to read Chuck Yeager’s autobiography. That prompted me to read something about the Lockheed “skunk works“, where all types of experimental and exotic aircraft have been developed. Because I had a decent layman’s understanding of what happened in the skies over the California desert in the 1950′s, I was able to have a wonderful conversation with the docent. It turned out to be one of the highlights of my trip.
So…the next time you see someone older or different, don’t be too quick to categorize them. After all, they’re probably not what they used to be and may have some great experiences to share.
