Ding Ding

I started learning to play the piano 10 years ago, when I was 35. I'd just started 'leading worship' at the churchIusedtogoto.

The first thing I learned about leading worship is that before you can lead the congregation, you have to lead the band that's playing the music. You have to know the songs, understand the dynamics, have at least a basic clue about the different instruments and what they can do, not to mention the people playing them.

Being a singer trying to lead musicians was an intimidating thing. I felt like, yeah, I was leading the band, but I was leading them by pedalling off on my Schwinn Stingray, ringing the bell and asking them to fall in behind me on their big ol' Harley hogs.

So I had a lot to learn. And I started with the piano.

I'm kinda there again, these days. As I've mentioned, our Dinner group has sprouted a branch that's become an honest-to-goodness Not For Profit corporation, provincially registered. Our next step will be to pursue Charitable status, but we're not quite there yet.

And guess who is currently occupying the Chair? Really. Guess. Nope, guess again. Give up?

Me!

If I were the type of person who does things like including LOL in my writing, I would do that now. But I'd never do such a thing.

Nevertheless, I think it's hilarious. Here I am, back on my banana seat, pedalling away, followed by the rumble of 500 horsepower engines. Hoping I don't do anything stupid.

The members of this corporation are a fairly amazing bunch of people. All of them are either Dinner team people, or professionals working in various fields who've had a concern for some time about housing and health issues surrounding the marginalized in our area. Our little Dinner group has created an opportunity for these people to get involved in seeing something actually happen. Which is awesome.

They're way more smarter than I is.

One guy, whose name is Eddie, has been a huge help in getting things organized and functional. Eddie's moving away in the next few days, and we're really going to miss him.

He's a wonderful person, with a heart as big as a 12 unit supportive housing complex.

A little while back there was a foofaraw among his neighbours. The developer was going to expand the subdivision by adding some row houses. They'd cost less than the existing fully detached houses. Which some in the area assumed would attract - hm, how shall I put this? - less affluent purchasers. Which would lower the tone of the neighbourhood. Which would lessen the increase in property value of the existing homes. So they started making a fuss.

I asked Eddie whether he agreed with the opposition to the new development and he said, "No. Everybody has the right to be my neighbour."

You gotta love a guy who understands that increasing property value is not a right. It just means you're really really lucky.

Eddie describes himself as "somebody who gets involved and gets excited about things." But he's much more than that.

I was a bit challenged, getting to know him at our monthly corporation meetings. If my brain is a lava lamp, Eddie's is a spotlight. Capable of focusing first on one thing, and then another. He's someone who knows when things need to be clearly defined, and when they don't, and who'll persist when they do.

He drove me nuts for the first little while, making us vote on things, and make motions and second stuff and taking notes and asking for clarification so that the record was clear. He'd tell us not to act on emotion, but to make sure that we were not only doing things correctly, but documenting that we had.

For a lava lamp like myself, stuff like that can be eye-rolling maddening, but I've learned that it's necessary. You can't run a corporation by juggling blobs of good intention. There's a balance to be struck between the creativity, the passion - the "emotion" - and the rigors of following the rules laid down by the government for groups like ours.

When you get the right mix of lava lamps and spotlights, you can really get some stuff done. (If you don't strangle each other first. Tempting, but not productive.)

So I'm deeply grateful to have known Eddie. A man who's passionate, compassionate, humble, intelligent and fun. Who at the end of our last meeting, left us with the benediction, "God will always be with you when you do this kind of work." And who's happy to colour inside the lines, so some of us can scribble freely in the margins.

Happy trails, Eddie. And thank you so much.

r

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