Hey, Wait. I’ve Got A New Complaint.



No, I don’t.

See, yesterday a surprise box arrived at my house. From the higher-order life-liver sister Jilly.

I open it.

These are inside:

That’s right.

Converse Chuck Taylor sneakers. Yes. Of course. I have a pair already.

But these have song lyrics copied from Kurt Cobain’s journals on them. In his handwriting. With the same “Reward if found: K Cobain” that he wrote on his. There was a special “limited edition” tag on them that reads “He haunted Seattle’s music scene, withdrawing into its grit and grime. He thought some of it made sense, but most of it didn’t. So he turned to the only thing he knew for sure: his own music. Soon it became clear; the inspired songwriter with scruffy hair and stormy eyes had taken the underground grunge movement mainstream. Canvas upper with lyrics from ‘Come As You Are’ and ‘Dumb’.”

I didn’t know whether to frame them or wear them. I chose to wear them.

What I do know is that one of the coolest feelings in the world is to be “gotten.” I’m glad my sister “gets” me. And my day yesterday had a little more higher-order feel to it. So, Jilly, thanks for the gift…and more importantly, the “getting.”

I think I’ll wear them when I preach on Sunday.

I think I’ll just sleep in them.