Walter McCortez (Part 4)

Okay, so it's been a while, but I doubt anyone really cares because I'm pretty sure most people aren't watching this anyway.  I mean reading.  Reading is the word I was looking for.

Sorry if I'm not on my game; it's pretty much a sauna out there and there's pretty much no end in sight to this ungodly heat.

Speaking of ungodly, I'm about to talk about a mission trip...uh...that was the...opposite of ungodly...

Just forget I said anything.

So I was a mission trip that week.  Wait, you probably knew that too, because no one really starts on the fourth part of the series.

This really just isn't my day.

But this mission trip was in this neato little town called Cortez, Colorado.  I think I already said that, but this neato little town was in the southwest corner of Colorado, which is why we were driving for a good three days to get there.  On the morning we were done staying at the lodge that air conditioners forgot, our group found our way to Mesa Verde and took some pretty neat pictures.

*ahem*



Yeah, that's just one of many pretty pictures I took because I like to think I'm artsy.  Prints are still only $80!


Anyway, after we spent too much time at this place, we finally drove into Cortez for our weeklong stay where we would be learning about Jesus and how it's a cool idea to be nice to people.  And judging by my track record of being nice, I really needed to learn about that second part.

For those of you who are atheist and are reading this, congratulations for staying with this blog series, I've said mission trip countless times and I'm surprised you haven't either broken out in hives or rants about how illogical it is for there to be a God.  I'm really proud of you for holding your tongue.  Because we all know that most of you can't.  But also, I'll be introducing you to what this trip is set up like.

By the way, this involves anyone who wasn't in a mission trip like this.  I just really felt like ribbing the atheists on this one.

See, traditionally, there are four people who are completely in charge of everything during your stay at the site.  These four people, for the sake of this blog, will be called Leaders A, B, C, and D.  Their real names are Sarah, Nicole, Laine, and Logan, but I wanted to keep their names a secret for protection purposes.

Wait a second.

Forget I said that last part.  Anyway, we had those four leaders, like we were supposed to, but there were a few issues with the leadership.

For one, none of them knew how to adequately play a guitar, which is really surprising, because most churchy people that I've met that actually get paid to be churchy play a guitar, or at least have one strand of musical talent in them.

So I got to play guitar with a group of three others.  It was swell.  I'm now a guitar hero.  I shredded all of those three-chord songs.  Like a boss.  No, like a freaking CEO.  Yeah.  I went there.

Also, they seemed to have a fifth member.  His name was Walter.  Walter McCortez.  He was a wooden man with only one eye (the other eye covered in a sinister eyepatch), a sweet fluffy looking hat (although it was also made of wood), and a knife in each hand.  I don't know what exact bible point he was supposed to uphold, maybe the "eye for an eye" thing (yeaaaaaaah bible puns), but he stood there, silent and ignorant of the world around him, probably because he was just a bunch of wooden boards.  His eyes would gloss over us all during our big group times in a superior stare towards the wall.  I'm pretty sure he never blinked.

You can't see his knives, but I promise you.  They were there.

Anyway, with the heroic, or villianish, expression watching over us, our groups, mixed around and sent out in six separate groups, or teams, if you will, walked out to be all happy and supportive in the name of the Lord with confidence.

I know this is a bit of a sidestep here, but I really have an issue with run-on sentences.  Geez.

Anyway (I tend to say that a lot, too...), each of our six groups were named after shirts that were produced by Youthworks.  Youthworks were the people that were in charge, by the way.  I was on team Wicked, because, let's face it, I'm wicked awesome.

We painted houses for two days and had a jolly good time.  I'd go in further, but this is the meat and potatoes of this series and the only worthwhile parts of painting are those awkward inside jokes that only the people who were there would really understand and find funny.

None of those people even know I have this blog, and I'm way too lazy to tell them.  Oh well.  I'll get over it.

The next two days, we played with kids (get your mind out of the gutter) and taught them that sharing is caring, that you should treat people equally, and that stealing shoes is okay if your victim is unconscious (it's a long story, which I might save for later).  After that, we went home.

Granted, there were a couple of pretty emotional nights, but I'm not going into those, mainly because I want to do a proper send-off, and while I don't want to say that I'm just kind of half-assing these blogs, I kind of am.

But like three people read this blog and I'm pretty sure that I've told them a few times each anyway.  This is just a reminder.

So thanks for being supportive of my decision to not give you 100% quality, although I'm pretty sure I've been riding at about 60% at my best anyway.  It means a lot.

:)

See?  I even had an emoticon in there.

You know it's important if I emote.