DO THE MATH

A long time ago I had heard that the human body, despite a few minor flaws, is pretty much an engineering marvel. Who am I to argue with that?

Of particular interest to me lately are the ears.

These technical wonders use skin, bone, cartilage, liquid, and nerves, to allow a baby born this morning to hear his mother sing him a lullaby just as well as they allowed Homo Habilis, the oldest human-like species, to detect and avoid predators roughly 2 million years ago.

But hearing is not the only function ears perform.

Additionally, the cochlea and liquid filled canals of the inner ear help us to physically keep our balance which aids us greatly in sitting, standing, and walking so we can move about our world.
Life would be far less interesting were we unable to get up, get out, and get together with others.
The mechanics built into our ears make that possible.

The fact that we have an ear on each side of our head not only makes many people’s eyesight better, since they help hold our eyeglasses on our face, but this placement of our ears also makes sound localization possible. The ears, in congress with the brain, give us the ability to differentiate the amplitude of sounds in each ear to help us determine where those sounds are coming from. That ability serves us well each and every day.

I’ve found that the most important aspect of ears, as they relate to the human body, is a point you’ve possibly heard me make before. I thought it was important years ago when a mentor explained it to me, and I’ve shared it often since then. To paraphrase him,

“We’re each given two ears and one mouth.
So it stands to figure that we should listen twice as much as we talk.
Do the math.”

I’ve often heeded that advice and have found it helpful in many situations.

In classroom settings it is helpful to absorb the lesson and gain the wisdom of others.
At work one can often learn best practices by asking a question and letting more seasoned employees tell you what works best and what doesn’t.
With family it is important to listen to their hopes, wishes, and concerns. Learning about family history through stories from elders serves a valuable purpose too.
And with friends it’s always great to hear what they’ve been up to and how they’re doing.

Listening more than talking can be useful when encountering strangers too.

I had an instance of this last Friday on my trip home from work.

My ride home involves two city buses with a connection from one to the other in the Lowry Hill neighborhood of south Minneapolis.

Timing is crucial.

If the 114 bus doesn’t get me to the bus stop outside the Sebastian Joe’s Ice Cream Shop in time I won’t be able to catch the 12 bus that runs past my street, a short walk from my home.
On an ideal day, with all of the moving parts properly aligning, my trip home takes about 45 minutes.
If the connection is missed at least a half hour is added to the commute.
I HATE missing the connection.
ESPECIALLY on a Friday when my weekend is beginning.

Last Friday as we approached my stop a bus was pulling away.
I asked the driver, a man I’ve never seen before, whether he could see which bus was ahead of us. He guessed it might be the 12 bus. I asked what the chances were that he could catch it since that was the bus I needed to be on.

He smiled, and took it as a challenge.
“I’ll get you on that bus!” he said.

GAME ON; cool.

I remained standing near the driver, but behind the federally mandated yellow passenger line, in order for the driver to safely operate the vehicle, and to allow me to rapidly exit the 114 bus in case we DID catch the 12.

In order to break the silence I asked the usual question I ask everyone on Friday,
“Big plans for the weekend?”
Then I listened.

I never knew that a Liar’s Contest nor a Christian Comedy show were actual things.
The 114 driver was trying to decide which of those he’d be attending on Saturday night.
He’d compete in the Liar’s Contest if he went, and he’d merely be a spectator at the Comedy show if he opted that way.

As we continued in pursuit of the 12 bus he mentioned to me that last year he’d placed second in the Liar’s Contest, but many in attendance told him he should have won it.

We got within a block of the 12, but a passenger on our bus rang the bell to exit at the next stop so we fell farther behind the 12.
I asked the driver what last year’s story was, so with a laugh he told me,

“The story goes that as a bus driver I had reached the end of my last route one day and was headed to the garage to park the bus and log out to head home.
Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a nun, in need of ride, waving me down.
Against my better judgement I stopped, and allowed her to board the bus.
The nun explained that she was running late and needed a ride to the Catholic church across the street from the bus garage I was headed towards anyway.
So I agreed to take her that far.
Upon reaching our destination I parked the bus and the nun asked how she might be able to repay my kindness.
I told her that a simple kiss on the cheek, as a blessing for peace, like in biblical times, would suffice.

She agreed but said I needed to answer two questions correctly before she could convey such a blessing.
I agreed, so she asked her first question.
‘Are you Catholic?’
I answered ‘Yes.’
Then she asked, ‘Are you married?’
And I answered, ‘No.’
I then offered my cheek for a kiss, but the nun twisted my head farther around and began furiously making out with me full on the lips!
And I returned the kisses with a fervor to match hers.
Once we broke the embrace I felt awful and told the nun that I was ashamed and felt like I was on an express bus to hell. Not only for making out with a nun, but because I had lied.
I’m not Catholic. I’m Baptist!
And, I’m not single, I’m married!
‘That’s alright,’ the nun replied, ‘I’m not a nun!

My name is Leroy, and I’m on my way to a costume party!”

We both shared a laugh at that lie and I kind of wondered what story might have topped that one in last year’s contest. We continued yo-yoing with the 12 bus getting closer and farther as passenger requested stops, and red traffic lights kept us from catching it.

I asked the driver if he knew the lie he’d tell this year if he decided to enter again.
He did. And he asked if I cared to hear it.
Of course I said yes.
So he told me this one too.

“As a younger man I was a modest, southern, small town preacher.
To emulate a vow of poverty, without actually taking a vow of poverty, I kept my car parked in my garage and used a simple bicycle as my humble means of transportation.
It played well with the townsfolk and especially with the members of my congregation.
People knew me by my bike.
I was told that the sight of my bike parked out front of the church on a Sunday morning brought a calming feeling to the congregation.
Imagine my surprise then that Sunday morning that I prepared my sermon at home and when ready to head to church I found that my bicycle was missing!
WHO STOLE MY BIKE?
I could scarcely imagine who would have the gall to pull off such a caper, but I intended to get to the bottom of it, and sooner rather than later!
I drove to church and before I could enter the building I ran into my nephew, who sensed my agitation so he asked me what was happening.
I told him that my bike had been stolen and that I intended to preach the Ten Commandments that day, with an emphasis on THOU SHALT NOT STEAL, with all of the fire and brimstone I could muster, in order to make whoever stole my bicycle feel guilty enough to confess their sin and return my bike!
I entered the pulpit and began slowly.
I built to a crescendo but stopped short of the Seventh Commandment, Thou Shalt Not Steal.

After the service my nephew pulled me aside and asked me what had just happened.
Why hadn’t I addressed the Seventh Commandment, Thou Shalt Not Steal?
So I explained to him what occurred.
The First Commandment, I spoke of the evils of loving money and viewing material goods as your God.
I got a little louder and more passionate for the Second Commandment decrying those that take the Lord’s name in vain.
And louder still for the Third when reminding my flock to dedicate the Sabbath to the Lord.
I turned it up even higher for the Fourth and Fifth, honoring your father and mother, and thou shalt not kill.
Then came the Sixth Commandment, Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery.
THAT’S when I remembered where I left my bicycle.”

By the time that story concluded we had lost sight of the 12 bus, but we had shared a few laughs and realized that we were the only two left on the bus.

As the driver approached the end of his route he said, “You know what? I promised I’d get you on that bus and I’m a man of my word!”

If any of the authorities ever ask I’ll tell them that none of the posted speed limits were exceeded and that no traffic laws were broken. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

He did catch the 12 bus, and honking his horn, pulling ahead of it, and parking diagonally in front of it, he did get me on that bus, one stop before I needed to get off of it at my street.
And almost 2 miles past where his route ended. So I rode the 12 bus 2 blocks, following behind the 114, for two blocks where I hopped off at my stop.

Before I had departed the 114 bus the driver thanked me for listening to, and laughing at, his stories.
He told me he was now leaning more towards participating in the the Liar’s Contest than watching the show at the Christian Comedy Club.

I made it home on time, heard a couple jokes, lived a pretty cool adventure, and made a new friend, all because I took the time to listen.

You know they say that most of us experience hearing loss as we age.
I can’t dispute that fact.
Me?

I don’t hear as well as I used to, but I am listening more.
It’s just simple math.

Who knew?