So, where has The Hippy been?

Well that's an interesting question.

As many of you know, and many more probably didn't care, The Hippy until very recently worked at Sprint PCS.

I spent several years doing telephone customer service for this vast monster of a company, and if you have ever needed technical support with your Sprint PCS phone, you may well have spoken with me. I would have been the one who was helpful, articulate, and charming.

I should interject for a moment here and say there this is nothing quite as mind numbing as having the same conversation 35 times a day. Especially when that conversation is about how unhappy you are with your cell phone. I know you don't like your cell phone. The reason I know this is because you called me today. No one ever calls Sprint PCS tech support to say that they just love their service and they thought we ought to know that. So, now that I have gotten that off of my chest, I can move on.

Late last year I was promoted to the position of Quality Analyst. Consider if you will how painful it is to have the previously mentioned conversation as often as I did. Now consider how much it sucked to move to a position where I had to passively listen to other people having this conversation.

That's right, I was the phone police. Remember, the disclaimer you always hear about how the conversation may be monitored or recorded for quality assurance? That was me. I was the one listening.

I know what you're thinking. How could someone of such bravado and intellect do something to repetitive? Well, the answer is that I'm still not sure how I managed to do it, but I can at least tell you why.

We had to eat.

You see, when my wife and I got married, a little over 4 years ago, we were both not finished with our educations. So we had a very serious discussion as to who should work and who should stay in school.

Weighing our options carefully, we noticed that she was going to be graduating with a degree in Journalism and was also applying to law school. Law School was good, because a law degree will be somewhat useful in funding a future.

I on the other hand was majoring in philosophy and the course load that I had chosen would have made me versed in Chomskyan Linguistics as it related to his political philosophy, but all I could have really done would be to think deep thoughts about the nature of media manipulation and the nature of unemployment.

So, alas, it was the dear wife that continued in her education while I in June of 2000, started down the dreary path of corporate servitude. I managed to survive and that was a great feat.

Now, the plan had been the entire time I was working there, that I would continue my employment until the wife had taken the bar exam, and then I would relinquish my job and join the ranks of the professional students who aren't qualified to do anything by mere virtue of the fact that I was educated.

But, despite my hippie values, we started thinking that we ought to be very careful. Perhaps she wouldn't find a job in time, and we would end up destitute and homeless with cracker crumbs in my beard and with her wearing a pink flower hat and a raincoat all the time.

I decided that I could hold off on reclaiming my soul for just a while longer to assure that we would continue to have both income and health insurance. Those are two assets that a rational person would want to hold on to in George W. Bush's America.

So, rather than quitting my job the day after the bar exam, I simply scheduled some vacation time for the week immediately following the most important test my wife will ever take.

We were going to Washington D.C. to attend a family reunion and we were quite sure this was just the break we needed to unwind and recharge.

The first day of the bar exam seemed to go well for her, and though I was cramming to get the rest of my duties for the month completed at work, things were looking good.

We awoke on the morning of the second day of the bar exam and my last day of work before vacation to find that someone had broken into both of our cars the during our long summer slumber, and my car stereo was missing. This happened right in our driveway.

So, we get her to the test site thanks to the assistance of a dear friend, and I wait around the house for the police to arrive so I can file a report. All I can think the entire time is how terrible the 23 mile drive to work is going to be everyday with no radio in my car.

So I go to work, and I ended up staying 3 hours later than normal, just so I can get everything done without having to go to the boss man and tell him that someone else is going to have to make up for what I didn't get done because I am giving up 24 work hours at the end of the month.

I came home and I felt like a broken man.

I sleep it off and the next morning we head to Washington, and see the family. It was refreshing and good and I was happy to be there. I love them all, even if many of them wonder how such a blatant hippie made it into their midst. :-)

We arrive on Thursday evening, and we have a splendid time.

Sunday morning, I decide to pull out the laptop and check the email, and there is a message from a buddy of mine at work apologizing for all the email and calls. I immediately think this is quite odd, because I thought everyone knew I was going to be gone for about a week.

I check my voicemail and sure enough there is a message from my buddy saying, "Hey man, are you alright? I just wanted to see if you survived the bloodletting on Friday."

Now, I have to admit my first thought was, "I certainly hope not," but I decided that I should start making some calls to find out what I can.

It's Sunday, so I can't get anyone on the phone, so I continue with my vacation. Curious as to what's going on, but not worried.

Our flight back to Oklahoma was scheduled for Monday at 6pm, and the plan was to be back at work on Wednesday morning.

We decided that Monday morning, we wanted to go and visit National Cathedral. So we headed out that way.

The day was beautiful and we were feeling great. As we walked in, we found out that we were just in time to celebrate the holy Eucharist. We asked if it was a closed service, and they told us that the Cathedral celebrated according to the Anglican tradition, and that communion was open to all.

We sat quietly in this amazingly beautiful house of God and waited. There were only about 12 of us there participating in the mass. I was struck by how small the gathering was for such a huge and magnificent church, but felt it was important that I was there. I felt there was a reason that I was sitting there at that moment. And then, in the form of a charming and reserved priest, God spoke to me.

He informed us that it was the Holy Feast of Joseph of Arimathea. There was a reading from Scripture and then he began his sermon and I'll never forget it.

Joseph of Arimathea was on the Jewish council he explained, and it has been traditionally taught that he had at time sought out Jesus for his council, always under the cover of night.

The priest explained that Joseph of Arimathea knew that Jesus was a good man, but being wealthy and holding an important position, did not wish to make trouble for himself by openly associating with someone so controversial as Jesus of Nazareth.

But, at some point between these clandestine meetings and the time of Jesus' crucifixion, Joseph of Arimethea was no longer afraid. It was he who took custody of Christ's body and prepared him for burial and laid him in his own tomb.

The priest asked us to think about what a brave act this was and how Joseph was really risking his wealth and status to do what he felt was the good and proper thing to do.

Then, in what felt like something more than coincidence, the priest turned and looked directly at me. He said, "So I leave you with this to think about today. You know what is good and right, and you know what needs to be done. We live in troubling times, and those of us who are able should be working to make things better. Too often we let concern for our status, money, and comfort keep us from doing what needs to be done. It is time to speak out and do what is right."

I know what you must be thinking. It goes something like, "Hippy, God didn't use a priest to tell you to actually be a full time hippie."

And all I can respond is, "Yes, he did."

As I was walking out of the cathedral on what was now a Monday afternoon, I get a call from my supervisor at work. He was returning my call, and I simply asked if I still work there. He indicated that I did, so I told him that I would see him on Wednesday.

As I came into work that Wednesday morning, I could tell that something was odd. I wasn't there for more than 5 minutes when I was told that I had a meeting with the head of my department and the head of human resources. I could feel a slight tingle of excitement in my stomach.

In the meeting I was told that due to a scale back in the work force, they needed to eliminate some support positions and my job was among those scaled back. I had the option to take a Voluntary Separation Package or go back to having the conversations about the broken phones.

And there it was in front of me. The choice that God had used the priest to tell me was coming was sitting right in front of me not more than 48 hours later.

So, I listened to God. We are using the severance package I received to buy us time to find the wife a lawyer job, and then it's full time hippiedom for me. Fighting for social justice, truth, fairness, and an end to violence. That is what I have been called to do and I take it seriously.

Though the job search for the wife has taken much of my time, and may for another couple of weeks, I now that the time and the resources to take up my causes full time.

So, that's where I've been. It's been a strange start to what I'm sure will be a long journey, but I am ready.

Just remember, war-mongering rich white men with southern accents do not have some inherent claim to faith, righteousness, or God.

Let Pat Robertson call for all the assassinations he wants. While he's doing that I am going to fight the fights that Jesus would have picked if he were here right now.

Peace.

-The Oklahoma Hippy