3 posts tagged “stories you never needed to read”
You might not know this, but I’m one of Reverend Moon’s closest friends. I mean, I’ve never actually met the guy…and it so happens that I disagree with basically everything he says…but all that aside, it’s the truth. We’re tight. Here’s the story.
Several years ago, I was sent to D.C. on behalf of my job in order to attend a big celebration of the Washington Times’ 20th anniversary. You are likely familiar with the Washington Times. Large circulation. Well known and reasonably respected. An unusual “right-leaning” (for whatever that phrase is worth…I use it loosely) newspaper in the metro D.C. area.
And it’s owned by none other than the Reverend Sun Myung Moon.
Now, before I progress further, let’s make sure of one thing. Do you know who Rev. Moon is?
Rev. Moon is the head of the unification movement, or “church,” as he’s fond of calling it. He refers to himself and his wife as the “True Parents” – the ones sent by God to pick up where Jesus left off. He says that all people should believe he is the second coming of the Christ because he’s Korean but has invested all his resources in America. He is constantly giving to this country, and we never give back. This (so he says) is a perfect example of God’s love, like how Jesus gave to the world and they couldn’t return his gift. He then goes on to say that Americans are the chosen people, and as such, all other nations should intermarry with Americans so that they can be “sanctified” by intermarriage, and so that their children will become part of the chosen people. If you google his name, you’ll find a whole host of other teachings. A rather infamous message of Rev. Moon’s was the one in which he advocated on behalf of total world nudity – an action he claimed was necessary if we are ever to attain complete purity.
This, my friends, is but a taste of the Unification movement and the teachings of Rev. Moon. With that knowledge, you will never again look at the Washington Times in the same light…
But I digress.
So I’m in D.C. for a couple of days, specifically to attend this big 20th anniversary celebration of the Washington Times, but simultaneously to take part in a corresponding conference.
During the last day of the conference, I heard Rev. Moon speak. Twice. The first was in an intimate setting of approximately 250 people. We were all given earpieces to hear the Korean to English translation of his presentation. He was scheduled for 15 minutes. Two and a half hours later, I got up and walked out. (What kept me in my seat for that long should be seriously questioned…) Over the course of that unbelievably torturous timeframe, I heard the same fifteen minutes worth of information approximately ten times over. I was seriously ready to scream…or at minimum pound my head against the wall in quick, rapid succession. I made it outside the door and breathed a very audible sigh of relief – only to be greeted by one of the conference representatives from my home state. Having heard my sigh, he responded sympathetically.
Guy: It’s a lot to digest, isn’t it?
Me, completely exasperated: Oh, gosh, YES.
Guy: I know. He is soooo inspirational. I don’t know how he manages to keep his messages so short.
???????????????????????
Guy: I mean, this is the guy who owns the Washington Times! He’s so powerful! And yet he cares enough to take time to bring people together like this to share his message and passion.
Again - ?????????????????????????????
Guy: This is actually a really short message for him.
???????????
Guy: His record is sixteen and a half hours. With no bathroom break.
You think I lie. I assure you, I do not. The guy was dead serious. He was in awe. Literal awe. Of a maniac. It was one of the saddest, most please-let-me-shoot-myself-in-the-head moments I have ever experienced.
I don’t really remembered how I responded…only that I managed to not return to the session room. I’m told Rev. Moon wrapped up about twenty minutes later and received a standing ovation. Yet again…????????????????? It was all I could do to keep from stalking up on stage and giving the entire audience a piece of my mind.
That night, I went to the 20th anniversary celebration dinner. Rev. Moon’s comments were a bit more…well, short. The press folks made sure he wasn’t on stage for more than thirty minutes. But I assure you that thirty seconds would have been too long for me.
The dinner had its amusing touches, however. One was a handout that was distributed to all the tables. I wish I could remember the title they gave this document, cuz it was pretty good…but the content was better. It was a manifesto of sorts, the transcription of one of Rev. Moon’s visions – a vision that supposedly provided all the proof the world would need to believe in his claim of being the second messiah (because apparently, y’know, the first Messiah wasn’t enough…). In this dream, Rev. Moon was in heaven, and he had conversations with many “great leaders” – Stalin, Hitler, Mussolini, to name a few. Why were they in heaven, you ask? Oh, let him tell you. It was because God wanted to show them the truth, and in turn have them share the truth with the world. In the transcription of Rev. Moon’s conversations with each “great leader” (his words – not mine), each of the men and woman (forty in all) explained how they had been deceived in life, but had since repented, come to know the truth, and were now proclaiming for all the world to hear that Rev. Moon and his wife are the True Parents and the ones in whom the world should trust forever.
Do you get the significance of this? I mean, other than the totally wacked, I’m-so-thoroughly-conceited-that-I-believe-myself-to-be-God mentality. This statement was handed out to several thousand people at a press event for the Washington Times!!!
Lesson to the learned: When you get cocky, it’s only a matter of time before the completely idiotic seems not only normal but prudent.
And then the comment that topped off my trip and resulted in me bursting into very audible laughter…to the dismay of several of Rev. Moon’s followers who were strategically placed throughout the crowd.
“My dear friends,” Rev. Moon concluded, wrapping up his thirty minute speech. “My dear friends, I am so glad you came here today to join me in this celebration. I can’t imagine being here without you. My friends at the press, look around – here are my dearest and closest friends.”
That’s right. His dearest and closest friends. All several thousand of us who had never met him and – at least speaking for myself - would never want to.
And all of this, my friends, is why I could never run for public office. Because somewhere out there, someone has a picture of me at that dinner, and if I ran for office, it would surface, along with a caption that says, “One of Reverend Moon’s closest friends – he said so personally.” And then someone else would get a hold of this blog and use only the opening sentence, which of course shows that I agree wholeheartedly with Rev. Moon’s statement and likewise consider him a close personal friend.
Cuz that’s how we play it in politics....
The greatest tragedy of the most recent airline carry-on restrictions isn't the added time required for security and checking baggage, or the general ban on liquids and gels, or even the prohibition on water (when have you seen those two words in a sentence together?). No, my friends. The greatest tragedy of the recent restrictions is the ban on lip gloss.
You think I kid. I assure you, I do not. Yes, I realize lipstick and chapstick are allowed - but they represent absolutely no comparison. It is a sin - I repeat, a sin - to disallow me to carry lip gloss on a plane. Ask anyone who has traveled with me since the recent ban. The complaint "UH! I need my lip gloss!" escapes my mouth at least once every 5 minutes.
As much of a tragedy as this phenomenon is, my trip to D.C. last week presents another one...
I was standing in the security line to get on the plane leaving Reagan National, all ready to get pulled for a bag check-through and pat-down, which, incidentally, happens to me every time. I'm getting used to it. Almost. Anyway...in front of me stands another member of the group from Michigan, I'll call her Candy. So Candy's in front of me, and our bags go through the x-ray machine at the same time. I see the face of the man watching the x-ray screen look somewhat startled. He pauses the machine, pulls the bags back, then calls over another security guard. That man's eyebrows raise not-so-slightly, and he pulls Candy's bag from the machine. "Whose bag is this?" he asks. Candy waves her hand. "Ma'am, please step over here. We have got to have a look in this thing."
Amused, I continue through, get pulled aside as always, and as I'm waiting for the man who's going through my bag, I hear the security guard with Candy abruptly burst into laughter. A moment later, I get my bag and head down the terminal toward the gate. Candy catches up with me a couple minutes later.
Me: "What was that all about?"
Candy: "You would never believe it!"
Me: "What??"
Candy: "He took my lip plumper!!!!"
Me, sputtering: "HUH??"
Candy: "He took my LIP PLUMPER!"
Me: "Your...what??"
Candy, staring at me like I'm an idiot: "My Lip. Plumper. He took it. It's gone. Forever. Gone forever. He stole my lip plumper." Pause. ""Betcha he really just wanted to try it out for himself."
Me: "What the heck is a lip plumper?!"
Candy: "What?? How do you know what that is? It plumps your lips, just like it says."
Me: eyebrows up.
Candy: "Oh, it's all-natural. Just feels like a bee sting but it works like a charm."
Me: "It's all-a-naturale and feels like a bee sting? Girl, you got issues."
Candy, laughing: "I'm telling you, that man wanted to try it out for himself. He knows it isn't a weapon."
Me: "What did it look like?"
Candy: "Oh, kinda like scissors with a bunch of pointed, jagged edges."
Me: "And you tried to put that on your CARRY-ON?"
Candy: "Umm...yeah.... Oh. Yeah, I guess that kinda does sound like a weapon, huh?"
Now I must admit...I still don't view dear Candy's dilemma as a tragedy as horrible as my own forced fast from lip gloss, but y'know...I found a friend that day. She spent the next 2 hours lamenting her lost lip plumper. I spent the next 2 hours beleaguering the airline industry for forcing lip-gloss-absent-torturous existence upon me. In the end, we were sisters.
And that's the end of my story.
I took my high school girls to the beach on Wednesday. It was a great time, and I, white child that I am, got way freakin' sunburned. (Sunscreen is such a scam...that stuff never works...) Since I have absolutely no tolerance for pain, I went to Meijer that night to get some aloe and pain killers. I'm walking stick-figure style (i.e., very stiffly) in jeans, a cut-off wife-beater type t-shirt, my hair up and totally disheveled. Quite the vision of beauty, let me tell ya. So I'm shuffling toward the back of the store when I'm forced to stop because this person is standing in front of me and isn't moving. I look up and there's this guy just standing there. He cocks his head and says in what I think was supposed to be a seductive voice: "How ya doin', gorgeous?" I stare back at him and without missing a beat reply, "I am not gorgeous. I. Am. Sunburned!" and brush past him without another word.
Only I would do that. And only I would not think another thing of it until about 10 minutes later when my brain finally caught up with me and I started laughing at myself, wondering what the heck I was thinking.
My friends who have heard this story have all been very sympathetic. Josh informed me that it's okay, that was just the one perfect man I ever met in my life -- doubtlessly a guy who loves kids and politics and wants to work in war-stricken countries and never normally uses pick up lines at the grocery store. Moose informed me that she now knows why I'm not married...because I don't immediately fall for the guys in the frozen food section. All in all, very understanding comments. I love my friends.
I'm gonna go walk into a door now.
