Happy

Last week, while vacationing in “sunny Southern California”, the Captain and First Mate had the opportunity to “crash” Disneyland, “the happiest place in the world!”

Truth is, we had lunch with a friend who works there and walked us through the gates for free, which then gave us the opportunity to pillage and plunder the park the rest of the afternoon.

It was a cold and rainy day, but the park was still too crowded for my comfort level. 

Nonetheless, we literally walked onto the “Pirates of the Caribbean” ride – now altered to reflect the “Pirates of the Caribbean” movie franchise… a franchise ironically launched by the Disneyland ride.

The line was only a little longer for the “Haunted Mansion”, seasonally adjusted to promote the 1993 Buena Vista/Disney’s animated hit, “Nightmare Before Christmas”.

And then we stood in line for “HyperSpace Mountain” – formerly just “Space Mountain”, but that apparently doesn’t sell anymore. The indoor roller coaster has been altered to recreate scenes from the now-Disney-owned “Star Wars” franchise.

The first two rides were simply – well – sensory overload. So much to see. Trying to take in all the creative details.

But it was on “HyperSpace Mountain” that something happened to the Captain. I felt something. Different.

No, not nausea.

For just a brief time (the ride is only a couple minutes long), I felt… free.

I don’t know how else to explain it.

Other words have come to mind as I have tried to understand it: Joy… Happiness… Fun…

But nothing seems to completely describe what I felt in that moment.

Joy?

That’s a church word. "Joyful, Joyful…” and all that. We use it especially a lot around Christmas time.

“Joy to the world, the Lord is come…”

“Behold, I bring you good news of a great joy…”

But I’m not sure that what I felt quite equates with the birth of our Lord and Savior.

Besides, the way the Church typically expresses “Joy” is very… solemn.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in churches where the song leader gets everyone whipped into an ecstatic, joy-filled frenzy only to be followed by a preacher who tells everyone to sit down and quietly contemplate the sacrifice Jesus made for our salvation.

Bummer.

But I’m not sure about “Happy” either.

I love Pharrell Williams’ song. It makes me tap my toe. It makes me want to sing and dance.

But I don’t. [More on that below.]

I’m also reminded of the scene from “The Big Chill”, when the gathered friends asked Chloe whether her lover – who had committed suicide – was ever happy. Chloe (played by the beautiful Meg Tilly) replies, “I don’t know. We had some good times. I haven’t met that many happy people in my life, how do they act?”

So what about “Fun”?

Sure, the roller coaster was fun. I guess.

But what I felt was deeper than that.

I don’t want to over-analyze this, but I want to figure out how I can feel this again. Often.

Part of the problem is that the Captain is just not a demonstrative person. You won’t find me making an emotional outburst – either hot or cold. I don’t scream and shout. I don’t jump into the air and click my heels. I might bob my head or tap my foot to good music, but I never rarely dance.

Actually, I’m surprised the First Mate agreed to marry me. Dancing was such a big part of her family’s celebrations. Then, as we were planning the wedding reception, there were some tense moments when I admitted, “My family doesn’t dance.”

Even when I drink alcohol.

Drinking booze only tends to make me grow more quiet, not cut loose and get rowdy.

The problem is that for me it has always been about “responsibility”. I feel the need to be responsible and “in control” at all times.

Please humor the Captain’s introspection for a moment.

My Dad died when I was 14. Although I have two older brothers, I have always felt a heavy sense of responsibility to take care of my mother and even my little sister.

When I went off to college, I had to maintain a 3.25 GPA to keep my full scholarship, so fraternity life was out.

I started preaching at churches at age 20, so there went Saturday nights.

As a pastor – now in my 28^th year full-time – I have always been painfully conscious of “living in a fishbowl” – everyone is watching what I/we do. 

I love my church people, but church people can be terribly critical. Everything you say. Everything you do. The clothes you wear. The car you drive. The places you eat. What you post on Facebook or in blogs.

[Captain's Note: Don’t worry. I’ve got another blog site I share with them.]

But they’re watching… and many are judging.

But it's not just that. For example, when out with friends I am the one who walks at the back of the crowd – like a border collie – making sure no one wanders off or gets lost. Responsible.

At the home port, I’m the one who keeps up with keys and purses and cell phones. Responsible.

When out on the town, I’m the one who stays sober enough to drive everyone home. Responsible.

When does the Captain get to cut loose? Be irresponsible? Be free?

Am I happy?

I don’t know. I haven’t met that many happy people in my life.

So I have made a resolution for 2016… which is a big thing because the Captain doesn’t normally make New Year’s Resolutions.

In 2016, I want to have fun. I want to be happy. I want to experience joy.

And for my first act of fun, I have decided I want to go on a “real” vacation.

Somewhere where no one knows me... where I can be myself… where I can let my hair down…

Figuratively speaking.

I want to go to a warm beach somewhere, drink lots of fruity drinks, sing and dance with the locals and carry on until late into the night – without worrying about someone seeing me, or having to get up the next morning, or even speaking in coherent sentences.

Right now I’m looking at Negril. I’ve always wanted to see Jamaica. Beautiful beaches. Lots of rum. Get in touch with my inner pirate.Margaritaville.

A friend has suggested joining a week-long Pirate Gathering in Antigua, but I'm not sure if I’m ready for a bunch of rowdy strangers yet!

But for damn sure I am not going to compromise and waste a week in Branson, Missouri, or Gatlinburg, Tennessee.

I’m sure they are just fine places to visit, but I have no interest in going there.

And chances are good I would be more likely to run into someone who knows me.

Frankly, I have no idea what 2016 will bring. Maybe I'll find the happiness I seek right here at the home port.

But my goal… my Resolution… is to take the First Mate to a warm beach setting where no one knows us and we can really cut loose. For once.

At least for once.