Do-It-Yourself WHAT?

Another unbelievable night.

Started by running four cases of blankets to Seattle's Tent City 3 -- we heard they were low. There was a total screaming fracas going on at the leadership tent, some woman was yelling in a voice that would fracture cement. Decided to drop and run.

Off to our new Dravus Street bar -- Milk Maid bartender, always seems out of context to me in this rough tough place. But she likes seeing us, anxious to talk.

A Lumberjack -- big guy in plaid and bad teeth picks up on my church affiliation -- Free Methodist. He has a story to tell.

He grew up Free Methodist, married a Jewish woman. Their son's Jewish, but his wife isn't observant. He "cleans up" because she wants the Christmas tree and he wants the minorah and Hannukah in the house.

After his son was born the Jewish grandmother wants to know, who will do the bris (the ritual circumcision)?

Lumberjack looks me right in the face. "I did it myself, I told her. And it's the truth." No, Lumberjack is no mohel. His physician buddy had done the work, while he said the words of the Covenant over his son.

Hey, it counts.

Onto 3rd & Bell, need to find a wheelchair for R#3 -- his bearing went out. He can still get around with a cane, but when he's tired, it's a bit dicey. And I've noticed he's AWOL more often lately (remember, he only drinks coffee).

Second Gospel bartending tonight. Knew my name. Sheesh.

Rick