Many billions and trillions of light years away, the birth of some star is just now being seen here on earth.
By the way, if the biblical account of creation indicates to us an earth that is only six to ten thousand years old - then how do we explain the concept of a billion light years?
Just as that star is bursting forth in new found chemical brilliance - this past weekend at the Grace Fellowship Men’s retreat - a legend was birthed. The actual delivery was witnessed by only four individuals (and the legend himself) - and yet it was such a thing of beauty that it will be written about by generations to come. (Well, maybe this will be the only writing about it, I am not sure of the marketability of the storyline….).
As I turned the boat around to pick up Gary Kapiloff who had just been thrown from the tube, Kevin Hosner, Brad Williams and I were pretty much ready to call it a boating day. David Ennis, aka Guiroo, floated peacefully in the water, like a pale, goateed cork. As Gary climbed into the boat - the call was made:
“Dave, you ready to call it a day?”
The reply is something I didn’t expect. Indeed, it shocked me.
“No. I wanna ride alone. I want to see what John’s got.”
Now, my manhood is challenged all the time - and usually - I am able to resist the temptation of doing something stupid. But the challenge was laid down - the gauntlet thrown - the essential triple-dog dare had been given. I felt as if Kevin and Brad were giggling inside - just waiting for me to bail. And so - I told him to climb aboard.
For the next ten minutes (it seemed like an hour) I drove that boat at speeds ranging from 30 to 40 miles per hour - slinging Dave from side to side - over the wake of another boat and side to side again. Still - he hung on. Several times I would look back and there he would be - holding on with one hand - the tube bouncing like a beach ball on asphalt - and Dave flapping in the wind like Old Glory. Still - he hung on.
I think in the end, he didn’t want to destroy my dwindling manhood. He quietly let go - probably a merciful end to my attempts to sling him into Lake Sinclair. He pulled himself into the boat, missing some skin from his nose, to the cheerful applause of all of us - amazed at his accomplishment. And so a legend was born.