Todd Mintz: Brain Serial Blog

I believe. Everyone who believes has a story about how they knew they believed. About a half dozen years ago, I wrote about mine for my personal website. I fully admit with no shame or embarrassment that Marvin Gaye is more responsible for my belief in God than anyone else (with apologies to my wife and Billy Graham who finish second and third).

But I digress…I’ve experienced two other “Hand of God Stories” since Marvin’s anthem:

Did you ever have the dream where you look down at yourself asleep?

I did.

When I came back home from the gym yesterday, my wife immediately pulled me into our living room area where she showed me the following:

There was a small hole in our ceiling and yellow jacksts were making their way through the hole and into our house. She had been dousing them with bug spray but that hadn’t done anything to fix the problem and they were still coming inside. My immediate thought was that we got a wasp nest in our crawl space (we’ve had them outside before). However, we quickly had to do something about the hole…and the first thought that came to mind was:

“…I know every crack in these dirty sidewalks of Broadway…” Glen Campbell

I spent the summers of 1986, 1987 & 1988 in New York City being an intern for the now defunct Bear Stearns. I left NYC for the last time in 1988 meaning that it’s been almost 25 years since I’ve been there (and truth be told, I don’t feel the slightest desire or interest in returning).

I will never “choose” to get on an airplane.

I have to fly for work and I accept that. I have to fly to see family and I accept that. I don’t have to fly for any other reason and I choose not to. Vacations for me generally involve a car trip (and perhaps a Groupon…there are so many good deals to choose from). I don’t have a passport and I suspect I never will.

First, let me be fair and state that there is one limited use for Keurig single-serving coffee makers that makes sense…hotel rooms. Given the tendencies for cheap hotel coffee makers to overflow and make messes, and the ease of maintenance by hotel staff, I wholeheartedly endorse Keurig’s for hotels.

Now, let’s review why they suck:

The Keurig Image: This is the woman on the Keurig home page:

When I see her picture, what do I wish to do? Buy Keurig coffee? No. Perpetuate random acts of senseless violence? Yes. Let’s also not forget that one would need about 6 Keurig refills to get enough coffee to fill that huge cup…definitely not truth in advertising.

I sweat a lot when I work out. But, I got nothing on this other guy that I always see in the gym.

We both frequent a Cybex Cross-Training machine that looks something like this:

He’s close to 60, rail thin, and in really good shape for someone his age. He always shows up in the same undershirt and pair of shorts and he always use machine for between 30-45 minutes at a pretty decent rate of speed.

One of my closest friends is African. He told a story once that really stuck with me.

He’s a very perceptive guy and keenly observant as to the cultural differences between Americans and people in his homeland. One day, he was talking about the superficial nature of American relationships and said he really didn’t trust most Americans because the relationships are easily sacrificed for selfish aims. In Africa, friendships are much deeper because frequently, people’s lives depended on them. American can sacrifice relationships much easier because there are little or no consequences for doing so.

So on Monday, I wrote a macabre story about death. Coincidentally also on Monday, in my Facebook feed, I saw the following question asked…

For me, the answer was clear…a dead body. If you’ve ever smelled one, you’d never forget it.

I didn’t post that answer in that Facebook thread (for obvious reasons). However, since the story behind the answer is linked in so many ways to my last post, I think it’s worth telling.

In the Mid-90’s, I used to work for an apartment management company. We took over management of a “one step above skid row” apartment complex out on East Burnside in Portland well before the area became gentrified and trendy. It was part of my job to help inventory each and every apartment unit and prior to that task, I went to meet the apartment manager. He talked about some of the activities and tenants that he dealt with as part of his job and during the conversation, he told the following story which I will never forget.

When people talk about what is the most beautiful spot on the Oregon Coast, I always suggest Oceanside. I had somehow ended up here before I moved to Oregon in 1992 and because I remembered how beautiful it was combined with its close proximity to Portland, this was the place I used to go to during the hot Portland summer days when I lacked air conditioning.