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06/04/2005: "Can I get a witness?"
Our house was just visited by Jehovah Witnesses. They rang the bell. Only people looking for trouble or trying to sell something ring bells on Saturday unannounced. I usually don't answer; anybody who might stop by to see me would use a cell phone to call when they were a block away. Doorbells are sinister these days. They always were, I suspect, but now we can get around them.
Anyway, it was a young multi-racial couple. She spoke, and asked me about my opinion on whether or not our diversity issues could be solved. She waved her hand over the cover of the Watchtower she was holding that had a bunch of differently coloured people on it - almost as diverse as the pictures on the Tim Hortons application forms. I told her we probably won't figure it out talking on my porch and she laughed. Then she gave me the Watchtower and read me a passage from Psalms (something about diversity - seems they do try to reflect the local environment - I wonder if they read the same stuff in North Bay or Lethbridge) and said she might stop by again to get my opinion on what I've read.
I watched them go down the street. They waited for a long, long time in front of each door. Nearly 4 minutes. That's a long time to wait when nobody's coming to the door. Here they are a few doors down, waiting:
They didn't talk to each other at all, like they had nothing in common and were stuck on an elevator together. Maybe Jehovah field command just randomly assigns young Witnesses together without thought it they have stuff to chat about during all the waiting. Perhaps it's part of their suffering for God.
Here they are giving up:
They were joined by another team. Their suits aren't as nice as the ones the Mormon boys wear when canvassing for God. I suspect the Witnesses are more working-class, while the Mormons are middle and upper-middle class This is based solely on the suits (mind you, they aren't Prada or anything, but they're at least fitted properly and not so baggy). The woman today did seem fashionable enough - she put on her oversized sunglasses to walk the few feet from door to door - but since the Mormon's only send boys out, it's hard to compare. Now that I think about it, the Mormon's have their Brigham Young University type places and they usually get all kinds of degrees, and good jobs, and perfect houses. (Melissa and I once went to a wedding in Orange County California that was Mormon. The Mormon OC had a mansion and a life-sized satue of Yoda. But they can't drink coffee, which seems like a deal breaker). Their temple-churches are usually pretty well outfitted too, whereas the Witnesses construct their structures in a day, like a barn-raising. And no blood-transfusions. It's all very complicated. I don't know which I could live without, coffee or blood transfusions.
Goodbye dear Witnesses…enjoy Dupont Street:
