The Curse of September 30th.

September 30th is a day which will live in infamy for the Matson clan. On this day we are forbidden from bike riding. One year apart on that day both Kathy and Melody had biking accidents. One involved failed brakes (I have to contend - brakes she wasn't used to) and a cement block wall. The other involved a bike race with a borrowed, modified bike and a rather hard, sidewalk-type surface. One was left with two front chipped teeth and the other ... well .... one of her front teeth is no longer with us. OUCH!

Happy Birthday!!

Happy 4th Birthday Hannah! I love you!!,
Uncle Deron

Under Construction

Thanks for checking in. Apologies. My intent was to blog on each days happenings here from Mexico City. So much has been going on that it hasn't happened that way - good stuff. In the meantime I had hoped to let some pictures speak a thousand words on my flickr account but I'm fighting with a "low" wi-fi connection. I'll try to catch up but it may not happen 'til I return to S.D.

Peace.

D

Ciudad de los Palacios

Well it's been 25 years since the last time I was in Mexico City. That time I was representing the Nazarene youth of Wisconsin attending World Youth Congress in Oaxtapec. The sights, smells, & sounds have brought back a flood of memories. I'm on vacation here visiting my sister, Kathy. It's good to see where she calls home and the work she's involved in. She's been here in this capacity since 2003 so in a land where "mi casa es tu casa", I don't have a good excuse for not coming sooner (I know... double negative but when in Mexico....).

The flights went well and the jaunt through customs went off without a hitch. The layover in Dallas was just long enough to see a couple scoring drives by the Chargers on Monday Night Football (24-14 at that point). The customs line in Benito Juárez International Airport was short. The airport was nice but I have no pix to show. I learned the hard way in Brazil once that they frown on picture taking in Customs. After walking down the stairway, off a plane and onto the tarmac I promptly turned around to snap a picture of friends deplaning. People rushed at me from all angles and I feared for my life for a second - looked like they were going to tackle me and I didn't know why? Still have the picture :) .

The flights gave me a chance to catch up on sleep, reflect on what I forgot for the trip and work on some unfinished business. The main flight attendant on the second flight was a hoot. He announced the pilots as if he were announcing a wrestling match with Nacho Libre. First-class passengers got fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. I regretted for a bit, my decision not to cash in some frequent flyer miles and upgrade. That would have been an expensive cookie though. When you're a landlubber and used to just buying what you want, when you want, to satisfy your cravings & that smell is filling the air, it's hard not to rush that cart at 30,000 miles up. A cooler head prevailed.

So I forgot a pair of shoes I wanted to bring. Stores just don't carry shoes here over size 10. Hard to believe, but I guess I could search day and night and not find a man here wearing anything over a size 10. It's like trying to find a size XXL shirt in Brazil. Can't do it. And don't forget your swimsuit when going to Brasil. If you're shopping for one you're going to be looking at speedos. I'll leave you with that thought.

Scott & Sarah

We had a sending service today for Scott & Sarah Borger. Two weeks ago we sent Sam Nichols and Vanessa Contopulos. They will be greatly missed. Scott's background in economics might tell him "money makes the world go around". My physics teacher would tell us "financial capital causes the earth to rotate on its axis in centripetal fashion". It's people like this that push the church and help it to go.


Adeui mon amis! I will miss my fellow ONU alums and Chicago-style pizza affecianados. Sarah has taken a job in Baltimore with World Relief.

Prayer Request

Please say a prayer for P---. Please pray that he can see beyond his past & present pain and realize the hope that God can give him for his future. I have known him for 7 years. In that time, I've visited him in every type of living situation from the streets, ICU, hospitals, a hotel, "crisis house", independent living, sober living, board & care, and lock-down psych facilities (County & State). I've traveled all around the county for visits and even to San Bernardino.

He's hit bottom again. I remember the first time I saw him in a drunken state. I let it happen on my watch. I agreed to take him out of a facility on a pass to attend church. I had to take him back to the facility in that state. It felt like someone balled up their fist and hit me as hard as they could in the gut. I've seen the cycle occur now over and over again. His request today for $3 was categorically denied because I had no doubts where the money would be spent.

He's made numerous attempts to end his life. He bears the emotional and physical scars of those attempts. They are evident on what he calls his "earth-suit". He hopes to shed it one day in exchange for a heavenly one. A few months ago I saw something on his neck. I thought it was just dirty. I said "hey you've got something on your neck, why don't you wash it off?" "It won't come off", he said. "How about using some rubbing alcohol?" "No that won't work, it's a tattoo." I took another look. It was a dotted line from one side of his neck to the other. Below the line it read, "CUT HERE".

Thanks Roy for taking him to the hospital for me today.

David C. & I visited Bill in the nursing home & changed a seat belt on his wheelchair. We took the occasion to go across the street & see David's friends at Badlands Motorcycles - a flashback to his former lifestyle. He's educating me on motorcycles & the shopkeepers educated me by teaching me a few new choice words.

D-E-R-O-N

Today, several of us assisted the Hunt family with packing, cleaning and exterminating. The move had Bill's dad and a friend pulling away a trailer with an estimated 90% of their belongings & leaving friends with more questions than answers.

I acquired 3 more baseball cards today of my namesake, Deron Johnson. Depending on which dictionary you consult, I'm his namesake or vice versa. Technically, he might be my eponym because I don't think I was named after him for who he was & what he did ?? but because my parents liked the spelling of his name. My Dad took me to meet him once when he was coaching with the Angels & they were playing the Brewers.

I like my name. Always have - good thing. It has caused some difficulty though. I've heard all the pronunciations & been called them all - D'ron (Deron Cherry - KC Chiefs), Dee-Ron (Ryan gets away with that one routinely). There are probably as many ways to spell Darren as there are letters in the alphabet. I've even seen it with an 'h'. At Starbucks if they ask for my name & for the spelling I tell 'em they can just spell it however they like because even if I spell it the next person that reads it is probably just going to slaughter it anyway. How hard can it be? :) Deron rhymes with heron - the bird. Roll call in class at the beginning of the school year was always fun too. For those that get it right the first time, it's like we have an instant connection - want to give them a high-five.

I will sometimes avoid the trouble when making reservations at a restaurant by using my middle name. It seldom gets used for anything and is hard to mess up. Interesting side note: I learned while working in the Records Office - Japanese & Swedish students do not typically have or use middle names. I think I'm going to mess with my kid's name by putting a punctuation mark in the middle of it. That will also give me an automatic excuse to raise my voice when addressing him. "Joh!nny."