About the Calvinist, part 2

The Calvinist and I travelling 30,000 feet somewhere over Greenland (which, by the way, should win the prize for the country which most egregiously violates truth-in-advertising ethics by its very name). My mind begins to wander, as it often does around the Calvinist. I begin thinking I should write a post or two in the plane, so that you, gentle reader, will not be denied one jewel from my treasure chest of wisdom. Yeah, I’m that bored…. First, I should write a line or two about my seat-mate. As you may have discerned, the Calvinist and I are in some ways quite different. I am on the tall side; he describes himself as “diminutive”. I like the window seat; he prefers the aisle. I am a Christian; he is a Presbyterian.

But I will give the man his due: in addition to being a “big God-er”, he is undoubtedly the most consistently cheerful man I have ever met. Perhaps the two things are related. But I have been with him every day now for two weeks, and I have yet to hear him utter a harsh word or display a critical spirit. He has displayed not once ounce of anger or even annoyance. He didn’t even complain about the airline food. He not only enjoys my ribbing him, he seems to relish it.

He also makes a very good traveler, because he puts up with everything and loves to try new things. Offer him some monkey brain casserole, and he will say, “Where’s my fork?” Tell him you’re going to bungee jump off a local bridge, and he will go fetch his sport coat (he never leaves home without it). Work up a plan to graffiti some onion domes, and he would be right there with you, spraying TULIP in florescent green. He would even find something nice to say about the jail cell.

All in all, almost an ideal person to travel to Siberia with. Now if we could just do something about those puns….