Monthly Archive for January, 2004

A week ago, as I prepaired myself a bowl of cereal while watching tv, my mother walked into the kitchen with a sad face. I could see the depression in her eyes and before I could ask her what was wrong she came and sat next to me. She called Tony out of his room too and told us she needed to talk to us. When all three of us were gathered, she began to talk slowly, as if to avoid the tears that were soon to come. She explained that times were rough at the workplace, with some of the major clients leaving out of town and few of them left down here to provide work. She tried not to look at us when all this was being said, and eventually she did begin to cry. We listened and she asked that we pray with her and so we did. That morning she pleaded with God to provide work and to give her wisdom as she dealt with all the details of the job. She apologized for sharing, wanting not to make her two kids sad but to keep them informed of the way things are right now. We totally understood and had only encouraging things to say. Before we all left I said a prayer of my own with her, and then she had to go.

Hours later while I was at my job, Manny was speaking to a co-worker of ours about how cool it would be if we could build furniture and sell it, and wouldn’t it be great if we had the facility and tools to do it. Just then he looked at me and remembered something I had told him a few months ago: “My mom own’s a repair station. It’s a warehouse where they repair airplane wings.”

“Hey David, doesn’t your mom have the kind of tools we could use to do some of this stuff?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, “they got the tools to build practically anything, but they specialize in airplane parts. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind trying something else.”
So I called her up, curious as to whether or not she would be up for a new direction in the company and she was.

From that moment on the ideas started flowing out of our office. We began to draw blueprints, designing everything from interactive kiosks to bookshelves. Two days later we would be at her office doorstep, sharing the designs with the staff and getting an exchange of ideas going. By Wednesday afternoon, they had already began building models of one of our ideas. We would have to wait till the following Monday to see it.

Needless to say my spirits were high. I had received a direct answer to prayer and it was now our responsibility to follow through with this new open door. Doubters will call it coincidence, others chance, others good luck and so on, but I have no doubt that our requests were heard and answered. Thirdeye has decided to jump on this project with full force. Two businesses that had no relation or contact outside of last week are now teaming up to work in a new market, while still maintaining our main clients and job titles. It will be a long process, but I’m assured that we can take proactive steps.

Thursday night was Art History class followed by youth group in Kendall. I’ve been doing quite a bit of driving lately, and though the gasoline is constantly burning, I’ve found myself involved in the things I enjoy. We had a great time with the high school kids and I slept over Heredes’ house again, as is the weekly custom. They have been such a kind family to me, constantly letting me into their home, sharing their dinner with me and the conversations are always pleasant. I’m so thankful for having them around.

The following morning I woke up a little later than I usually do on Friday mornings for my Computer Art class, thinking I could get to school in half an hour. I imagined that traffic would be minimal as it had been the week before when I left the Ribeiro house at 6. I was wrong. I left the house at 6:30 this time and the traffic was horrendous. I somehow avoided crashing into a car beside me and I managed to slap myself enough times while driving to keep me awake. The weather was cold and my eyes preferred to keep warm under the snug eyelids, but I had to stay awake or I’d certainly crash. It was a tough morning to get through.

I arrived to class 3 minutes late, and though I was out of breath and exhausted from all the speeding from the parking lot to the stair, I found that we hadn’t even begun. Our professor is awesome. Ten minutes later he began a discussion with us about the Miami art scene and the cool things we should try to take advantage of while they’re in Miami. We saw the Chris Cunningham dvd of music videos and were amazed at the quality of the work. I’m definitely going to have to buy that series of dvds.

Class was over and I proceeded to eat lunch at Johnny’s Pizza with the twins Christy and Veronica (I have a feeling I spelled the former wrong). We departed and I headed toward my car, ready to leave for Kendall. I arrived at West Kendall Baptist Church and was in dire need of a nap. So I asked Pastor Rob if there was anywere I could lay down for a while and he gave me the keys to the RV in the back. Happily I took his offer and went inside. I found the bed which was positioned above the driver’s seat and I slept for over two hours. I remember dreaming that I had awoken, only to find that everyone was leaving on a trip to Orlando, and I wasn’t invited. How heartbreaking. It’s a good thing I woke up. I couldn’t stand to see everyone driving away without me. Strange dream.

I spent the rest of Friday afternoon at WKBC, helping them prepare for Middle School Mania. It was good times. At 8:20 I left and headed to my pastor’s house where the usual Friday group would arrive for our discussion on Philosophy, particularly the political philosophy of Plato. It was an enlightening discussion. Soon enough we will get started on Aristotle and there’s more to come afterward.

After the discussion, I left Max’s house and headed right back to WKBC, where I would find Heredes along with Andrew, awaiting my arrival. Heredes would propose the following day, and he needed my help in the preparation. I designed a vector image of Marci receiving the ring, with the message “I Love You” written on the top, that Heredes would put in her menu as they finished their dinner the following night. She would find the image on the last page of her menu, and as she looked at him to see if he was for real or not, he would get down on one knee and propose. At least that’s what Heredes said would be how it should go down.

I finished the design, drove Heredes and Andrew home, but not before passing by Kinko’s where we would print it out in a nice glossy sheet. Around 1 o’clock in the morning we left Kinko’s and half an hour later arrived at Heredes’ house again where the conversation would be short and the exhaustion would be great.

There are two more days to cover, so stay tuned. I’ll finish this before the week is over, and then I’ll have more catching up to do.

I just returned from watching my very first improv comedy show. I’ve forgotten the performance group’s name already, but I think that’s not such a bad thing. It’s unfortunate that comedians have to resort to low brow humor to try and get some laughs. What a cheap tactic. The opening act was this bald dude and his stand up comedy. It was in a small room with only about less than thirty people. I think to appreciate his comedy, you would have had to have been drunk. His transitions were terrible, the delivery was pathetic and the topics were… as they say in France… poopoo.

The improv routines were a bit better. It was an all-male cast of 4 guys who did a variety of wordplay/acting games with the audience. Two of the performers were excellent. They were witty, creative, fast, everything necessary for being a great improv comedian. When the other two guys came out, it was obvious the show became a little more vulgar and a little less comical. ‘Twas a shame.

Tonight was a good experience just for the fact of seeing how people respond to bad jokes, and how I responded as well. There were a few jokes that went right over our heads, but simply because they were delivered poorly. Silence can be the comedian’s friend or foe. It is good when you are in the process of delivering a joke, you don’t want someone in the audience interrupting or making comments in the middle of your set-up. Silence is NOT good when the punchline has been said and no one gets it. In this scenario, silence is your enemy and you have done something wrong. A good recovery line is necessary at this point, and if you don’t have that, you might as well start doing Cosby impressions ‘cause that’s all you’re worth at that moment.

On that note, I have a few performances coming up, one on January 31st and I believe two more in early February. I’m in the process of preparing for that with some new jokes and old ones. You’ll have the details once I am informed of them.

I don’t know how I survived. There I was pinned under a beast of a man, his arms holding me down as I fought to get out of under him. His shirt was off, as it was dripping with sweat from recent wrestling matches with other poor souls. As he lay cross-body atop me, I strived to push his weight off of me, but alas, my hands slipped from his dripping sides and his hairy chest lay upon my face. I dare not breathe at this moment. Instead, I was forced to face my side, giving way to any attack he might be inclined to pursue.

(Before I go on, I must make a note to the reader that many of my fellow fighters pride themselves on smelling presentable at the gym, including myself. This man, however, was not one of those men.)

And attack he did. He got back on his feet and attempted to mount my stomach, and there was little I could do to prevent it. Had this been a real fight, I would have been pounded to a bloody pulp. Fortunately this is merely a friendly skirmish. I tapped out immediately, not because I was left hopeless, but rather because I could no longer physically take the burdens of hair in my mouth, the sweat on my shirt, and the stench on my skin, none of which was my own.

I sit here now, blessed to be able to share such a story with you. Kids, if you’re going to wrestle someone, make sure he’s a skinny hairless dude with plenty of Hugo Boss sprayed on his jacket.