Message, received

Are you a pastor?, I asked.

He paused, mindful no doubt of his response.

"No, I am an evangelist," he replied, a bit defensively.

Clearly, I thought. An evangelist with a boom box grade sound system that was entertaining drivers, and pedestrians, good for a smirk, or two, or an eye roll, but annoying neighbors, neighbors like me that don't have jobs to be at, or work from home, and are forced to listen to a man talking all afternoon about his savior at the top of his God giving lungs.

"Shut your window, then!" he told me, as if it was my fault that I am upset by him, as if he has a dozen satisfied parishioners up the street at the bus stop cheering him on, which he didn't, only exasperated stares, a few snickers, indie hipster kids taking pictures.

I don't know why, but being told to shut my window was the part in the conversation where I lost it. Doesn't evangelist James Brandy (his real last name, "spelled just like the stuff I don't drink anymore," he told me) know that it's finally cool enough to not have the window AC on, and that I was enjoying the breeze?

He didn't seem to have an objection to my wanting to enjoy the breeze, in fact, he seemed a bit taken aback by this detail, perhaps something small that he could relate to, and so the rest of the conversation was rather peaceful, and two way.

I discovered he is part of a street missionary ream, and covering five street corners over the summer. His home base is the Crusader Church, at 75th and Ashland. His assignment? Preach for two hours five days a week on various corners.

Do you have an email? I asked him, wondering if I could take his picture, and add him to a weekly newsletter that I work on, as technically he's been a part of the neighborhood this summer, albeit a transient one.

"I don't have email, but you can take my picture," he said. "Be sure to get my church in there."

By the time I got back upstairs, he was packing up his portable sound system.

Maybe James Brandy the Streetside Evangelist was done with his shift, or maybe he just wanted to be acknowledged by someone. Either way, the open air preaching was finally over, and I went back to the fiction book I am reading to distract from the future, full of equal parts possibility, and uncertainty, maybe a lot like Mr. Brandy's, too.