Equalizer…my guilty pleasure.

So last night I took advantage of the fact that my wife was at her bible study to watch something on television that she wouldn’t like. No, not March Madness. I’m referring to the last edition of the Equalizer trilogy starring Denzel Washington. This probably comes as a surprise to many of you, that I would be a fan of a movie with such stylized, gratuitous violence. So an explanation seems in order.

I am generally not a fan of violent films. There are major exceptions such as The Godfather and Saving Private Ryan. I much prefer a well crafted story where any violence is understated or even better, implied. So, why on earth would I be such a fan of the Equalizer films, perhaps the most violent movies I’ve ever seen? There are two answers to this question, The story and Denzel.

First, the story. Robert McCall is a retired black-ops assassin with a secret past that is never really explained. We are told that at some point he lost the love of his life, and ever since has tried to live a quiet life in the shadows minding his own business. At one point he tells someone, “I’ve done some bad things in my life, things I’m not proud of. I promised someone that I love very much that I would never go back to being that person.” The trouble is that no matter how quiet and unassuming he tries to be, he keeps stumbling upon horrible people exploiting innocents. There is something deep inside him that cannot abide powerful men taking advantage of the weak. Robert McCall reluctantly becomes a highly skilled and impossibly lethal vigilante who hides in plain sight. He goes to great links and metes out terrifying justice to right even relatively minor wrongs. When he gets a ride from a kind taxi driver and discovers that the man’s pension he earned as a bricklayer for 30 years was stolen by a hacker somewhere, he travels halfway around the world, kills 50 or so people in the most gruesome way possible just to retrieve the $366,400 stolen from the bricklayer and return it to its proper owner. But Robert McCall is no he-man with fancy weaponry, just an aging guy with deadly skills and a razor sharp moral compass. Watching a man risk his life for total strangers and visit justice on insanely rich and powerful men is one of the most morally satisfying experiences I have ever enjoyed.

Then, there’s Denzel Washington. The truth is I would probably pay money to watch him read the phone book. He has a presence that can’t be taught in drama class. You either have it or you don’t.

He sits a lot. He’s never in a hurry. He explains to a room full of bad men exactly how he intends to kill them all and exactly how long it will take him to do it. Then he explains how their immorality has sealed their fate. The bad guys all look at each other with bemused grins just before McCall springs into action. The men he executes are drug dealers, rapists, child molesters and terrorists. Their guilt is unambiguous as is McCall’s justice. He is a pitiless judge. In a world where so often the guilty skate on technicalities, where money buys off juries, lawyers and judges, Robert McCall functions as the wrath of God. He takes no delight in his job, but neither is he plagued by self doubt. There is right and there is wrong, and no room for equivocation. 

The Equalizer movies all move slowly, contemplatively and even artistically. Then all the contemplative stuff gets interrupted by shocking bursts of bloody violence. Then more artistic stuff, polite and meaningful interactions, then another shocking display of killing. Don’t get too comfortable in your seat. The tenderness can explode into brutality on a dime.

Its That Time of Year Again

Today I was reminded by my intrepid assistant that this is the time of year where I lose my mind. She’s correct. This is the season of the perpetual annual review, client after client walks through the doors, each with their unique needs and interests. My job is to keep up with it all, complete the mountains of paperwork, record it all on the appropriate record keeping app, and try not to bump in to the furniture. Some days are better than others. This year it seems worse since all of the above is happening while I am in the middle of having a novel published. To explain I should probably take a minute to describe what the inside of my head feels like.

This afternoon I came down with a severe skull exploding headache. Luckily for me, this has become a very rare occurrence. Migraines used to be a consistent problem for me back in the day, but no more. This was no migraine, just a regular headache that defied all of my Tylenol taking and cold/hot compresses. It only subsided around 7:00 after a dinner of homemade clam chowder courtesy of my wife. After dinner I set down to make my to-do list for today. There were eleven items on it, all which need to be done by no later than 1:30 tomorrow afternoon. After completing the list I had a light-bulb moment. No wonder my head felt like it was in a vice. There are just too many squirrels running around loose in my head. There are a million things happening all at the same time up there, none of it good.

Although I should point out the fact that I have never been diagnosed with any of the alphabet soup of attention deficit disorders that are out there in the world. When I was a kid they just called it having ants in your pants. My teachers went to great lengths to keep me at my desk all the time I was in school. I had the attention span of a gnat on amphetamines. All the adults in my life back then assured my parents that I would eventually grow out of this condition and they were right…sort of. I have created many coping mechanisms/life hacks for dealing with my still shortish attention span and inability to stay seated for long periods of time. Most of the time, I feel completely normal. But I have days where I get the look from my friends at the office, especially the aforementioned assistant, who will usually say something snarky like, “Gee, if you were actually taking medicine for this condition, this is what you would be like if you skipped a few days!” Or even better, she’ll look at me in the middle of one of my semi-confused moments and say, “Squirrell!!!!!”

But, things will slow down soon. It’s only like this through the middle to late part of May. I’ll be fine. Just a few more weeks and the gray matter will snap back to its old self, where I only forget small, inconsequential things like…like…

Every Day a Challenge

When it comes to having a book published, each day brings a new challenge. Take this past Friday for example…

It was my day to open the Cafe and I was excited to get the chance to talk with Jennifer about maybe booking the Cafe for my Launch Party on or around the 7th of May. Its the perfect venue. Its the perfect size, has a wonderful ambiance, and I am comfortable there. As soon as Jennifer arrived she beat me to the punch, having read my post from last week. She said, “You ARE going to have the launch party here, right?!” Then we started checking the schedule for possible dates. There were a few conflicts with the 7th so Jennifer said she would talk with the facilities manager at Hope to work out the details. After thirty minutes Jennifer came back to inform me that she had forgotten about the rule our church has that would make it impossible to have the event at the Cafe. Hope doesn’t allow anyone to sell things in the church building. It’s essentially the no money changers in the temple rule. Jennifer had simply forgotten about the rule in her excitement and apologized for the oversight.

At this point I should point out the obvious fact that I was really disappointed. But at the same time I totally get it. Actually, it speaks well of our church that the leadership team is sensitive about the reputation of our church to the point where they try to eliminate even the appearance of evil. Imagine what the church would look like if every time you showed up for a service there were vendors hawking stuff in the halls. Since one of the points of a launch party is to offer signed copies of your book for sale, the Cafe can’t be the venue. Bummer.

So now we are back to the drawing board for another venue. It won’t be easy. My neighborhood doesn’t have a clubhouse. My house isn’t nearly large enough. Libraries won’t work either—they have the same no selling rule. For the first and only time in my life I regret not being a member of a Country Club. My opinion of Country Clubs has always been the same as Groucho Marx—“I refuse to be a member of any club that would have me as a member!”

As soon as we find a place and work out the details we will activate the RSVP tab on my Author Page. Would love to see you there!

My Author Website

My Author Website is officially LIVE!!! 

When I was told that I needed an Author Website and then told how much it would cost to produce one I was floored. That’s when Pam said something along the lines of, “That’s ridiculous! I can make you a website.” Her confidence sprang from the fact that she is an absolute marvel at the graphic arts side of computing and had done many similar creative projects before. She had no idea how difficult this endeavor would be. She practically had to teach herself the entire process, since the available software was bulky and the very opposite of intuitive. She has spent many late nights fighting through this thing, and along the way was given some major help from my son Patrick. But last night she finished and this morning it went live.

https://dougdunnevant.com/

Give the site a visit and let me know what you think!

Praying For a Friend

I have a friend who will be having a rough morning. Her son is having his jaw surgically broken and moved forward to better accommodate breathing and growth etc.. It’s not life threatening, but as a parent you have to sit there in the waiting room while a bunch of doctors hurt your child, and this is the worst feeling in the world. If there was any way possible for you to hop up on that table and take his place you would do it in a New York minute. But you can’t. He has to walk this path himself while you agonize in the waiting room.

Pam and I have been lucky. Neither one of our kids ever had to endure something like this. They never had surgery of any kind. They had their share of stitches, broken bones and colds, along with one car accident, but nothing like this. Then there are the parents we know who have lost children, parents who have lived through the crucible of burying a child, the very darkest night of the soul. My heart breaks for them, no matter how much time may have passed, I’m sure they feel the loss still.

So, this morning I pray for my friend.

Meanwhile, Lucy seems frustrated with me…

“Must you make so much noise typing over there? Can’t you see that I am trying to snoozle?”

You Can’t Get Any Luckier Than This

So, yesterday after church Pam and I were driving to a restaurant to meet our Sunday Lunch Bunch when my Apple Watch vibrated rudely. I glanced at it and found this message:

“Hi there. You mentioned wanting to rent in the fall. Is that still true and if so what dates”

Carolyn May

Immediately, my heart rate soared. Carolyn is the owner of Loon Landing and along with her husband Keith are just about as nice a couple as you will ever meet. (When Pam broke her wrist last fall in Maine, they brought us dinner the night after her surgery!). Several months ago we got a call from her telling us that she would not be renting out LL this summer. They had decided to stay there themselves all summer—something they have never done in the 17 years they have owned the place. Although we were disappointed, we completely understood. That’s when I had told her that we would be interested in a fall rental if it was possible, although we knew that they have family who rent during the fall. Anyway, I had forgotten all of this until the moment I received this text from her. To make a long story short, in no time we had agreed to four weeks in the fall from Sept. 13 thru October 11. It was the happiest I’ve been in months. 

So in 2024 Pam and I have the privilege of spending 10 full weeks on our favorite lake in Maine, the last four in our favorite lake house of all time:

The Cafe at West Creek

I show up at 7 am every Friday morning. A few months ago it was pitch black when I punched in the security code to get in. Now the sun is up and its considerably warmer. Still, it feels weird being the only one in the building. A church is not supposed to be empty. Last year my church, at considerable expense and after lots of thought, opened up a Cafe which they decided to call—The Cafe at West Creek. It was to be a donation-only coffee shop with free WiFi opened to the public from 8-4 five days a week. To make it work, they would need volunteers and lots of them. I decided to give it a try for two reasons. First of all it sounded like it might be fun. After setting the place up I would be tasked with welcoming people, showing newcomers the ropes and generally being an encourager. The second reason was on account of the fact that I knew the manager/boss of the enterprise—Jennifer Glotz—who, I have been told on more than one occasion, is the female version of me. When she asked, it was hard to refuse. So, here I am, every Friday morning.

The first couple of months it was like a ghost town in here. For one thing the staff has Fridays off, and for another we were brand new and not many people knew we even existed. As each month passed traffic has picked up to the point where now Friday mornings are busy and a lot more fun. January and February have seen my shift overrun with new faces, groups of two or three meeting for coffee, moms and dads who work from home using the space, and more recently larger groups showing up for meetings of one kind or another. Add to this the influx of parents and grandparents bringing their little ones to Friday morning story time. The place is suddenly hopping. It does my heart good to see a space that before sat empty all week long now being used in this way.

The best part of this deal are the serendipitous encounters you have with total strangers. I have spoken with a young mother who was eight months pregnant with a two year old at home who had asked a friend to look after him long enough for her to have a bagel and some peace and quiet. I met a man who had stopped going to church during COVID and never gone back. We were the first church building he had been inside in two years. Now he comes on Sunday mornings. I see him across the way and wave. He waves back and smiles. I met a lady from Brazil with two toddlers at story time. Someone had told her about this coffee shop where the coffee was good and super cheap ($1 suggested donation cheap). It was her first time in the building. Her kids were beautiful. She looked exhausted but glanced around like she couldn’t believe her good fortune for having found such a place. I met a retiree, probably 7 or 8 years older than me who seemed happy to have a place to come to be around people. One day I saw an older lady taking pictures of the artwork on the walls. Apparently she is a regular but this was her first time coming on Friday morning. She went on and on about how she loved the Cafe, like she was trying to convince me to give it a try. When I told her I was a volunteer we both had a good laugh. Sometimes I will see a group of college kids splayed out in one of the booths drinking cold brew, two booths over from an older woman in an intense conversation with a younger woman. I found out later that the older lady was the younger’s mentor and had been for several years.

My church took a chance on The Cafe. Its not cheap. Just how much we dropped to get this place up and running I don’t know and frankly I don’t care. The church’s finances are not my job. Others with that responsibility will have to answer for the proper stewardship of the church’s budget and spending priorities. My job as a member is to find a place to serve that is suited to my skill set and gifts. When I find it I need to volunteer and see how it goes. If it ends up being a disaster, I’ll know soon enough. (I’m reminded of that time when someone thought I would make a great finance committee chairman back in the day. Worse. Idea. Ever.) But if I find something that is fulfilling and fun, then its a win. The Cafe is fun. You should give it a try.