I’ve been very lucky to travel globally using competitive skateboarding as an excuse. I didn’t have savings or come from means. I had burner jobs I could easily quit. Working in restaurants, I could work extra hours and have an expendable job. My friends and coworkers enabled my habit because 50 mph skateboards and travel sounded exciting. There is short list of people who either hooked me up with a plane ticket or an upgrade for those long excursions. I got to see the World while I hit my head on almost every continent, not trying to brag, too much.
I can travel better than most. Knowing how to get through crowds and on planes with ease after years of checkpoints and delays. Days of annoyances. All the headaches I couldn’t care about because I like being in the chaos.
Most trips I would look the part. Skate shoes, backpack, and some hardcover air disaster novel. The cover graphic was way more important than any story. The flames on the diving aircraft donning the cover were my concern. My intention was unnerving paranoid flyers by making sure my book cover was visible while traveling. The blazing aircraft artwork somehow put me at ease with a laugh. Not really a side splitter but I got it and occasionally I would see somebody else get the joke. Or cock their head on a glance then stare.
While getting ready for a departure I realized I had nothing to read or as mentioned something with shock value for the gate. With bookstores on every corner of every terminal I had too many choices for something to raise eyebrows. Like a golden beacon of light coming from whatever newspaper airport gum bookstore there was Joel Osteen.
Joel’s shiny smile looked heaven sent, even if it was cardboard. He’s a beautiful man, have mercy. His book “Becoming a Better You” had just hit bookstores or airport newsstands and the life size promotional cut out was a tractor beam. Joel’s sermon, in the name of God, is well produced. His spew is all smiles, shiny diamond smiles. His delivery is reserved, no healing, laying hands or speaking in tongues. He likes telling stories about being nice, says some prayers, asks for money and then he is out. I liked watching Joel to see how long he could smile and sometimes I would try and keep pace. Kind of having a staring contest with my boy, but man he must work out that smile with a trainer. That smile couldn’t have been a better sales technique, he got my money.
The hardcover jacket with Joel Osteen was out of place in my hands, while I did the airport lounge circuit. I would kick back at the gate reading all of Joel’s stories wondering how every encounter he ever had with anyone connected to a story in the bible. “Becoming a Better You” might have helped me deal with traveling and all that comes with it. Get rid of all the God stuff and you’re left with a book on how to be nice to people. Bonus, in my case friends and family were put off when they saw my copy in hand or nearby. It’s not like me to read, and then why would I be reading something from this guy?
I have this thing for televangelists, in the name of Jesus gets me every time. The old school healing types; fire, and brimstone with some rattle snake kissing. I like when they lay hands, speak in tongues, or pray for money to thwart God’s express line to heaven. Tithing for a new jet so the word of God can be spread further and faster. Crying for forgiveness after being caught snorting meth with a male prostitute. Joel (thank God) hasn’t strayed as a preacher and so far he hasn’t been caught kissing any snakes.
I don’t have a vast library to choose from but sometimes, when nobody is around, I dust off Joel’s book. So, I became familiar with Joel’s words and that smile. While working one of those expendable restaurant gigs I happened to be at the front door when the voice of a Texas angel asked if he could make a reservation. Under a baseball cap, under a heavy base of zinc sunscreen smiled Joel Osteen. He leaned through an open window like an apparition. It took a moment to confirm this vision. Looking at that smile in person and then hearing his voice, we had a match. I don’t know how many people I pushed out of the way but he was mine. I can’t even remember if I was a waiter or a cook but while booking his party, I let him know I was a fan. I also let him know I would be taking care of him and looked forward to seeing him and his guests. The staff was not sure of what just happened. Most hadn’t heard of Joel and were even more confused when I told them his book was on my nightstand.
The details of Joel’s dinner are unimportant and unexciting. I don’t believe in his God but I believe in Joel so my faith couldn’t be shaken. To get that all important photo I conducted myself with the utmost professionalism, until I very unprofessionally asked for a photo. After serving what could have been his last supper, how could he say no? Handing my phone to a guest at the table I instructed him how to snap the photo as if he was docking an aircraft carrier. Joel (like so many other evangelists I’m a fan of) had no problem putting his arm around another man for a photo.
I rushed into the restaurant bar to critique the photo as the staff gathered around. In my excitement I couldn’t find the photo and blurted out “GEEZUS!” From a few feet away hat Texas angel voice replied “Did you not get the photo?” After a swipe right, there it was. Holy $#!&!!!! that was close. Now looking at Joel, and showing him the pic we agreed that we both had a shiny diamond smiles. At least that’s my interpretation of his word. That expletive might be why I never got my signed copy of his latest book.
I’ve moved on and now fly with FAA flight training manuals.
This universe is amazing, and I won’t ever understand what higher power brought Joel and I together. I’m looking at my library right now and there’s that smile, from both of us.
Safety Third