In my last post I mentioned our friend, Dr. Jay Grimstead. I wanted to tell you a little more about him and some of our family’s adventures with him.

Jay looks (and acts) like a jolly elf. His eyes twinkle with merriment almost all the time. He is a warrior for Christ, and he enjoys the battle. He reminds me a bit of Sir Nigel in The White Company, the book I reviewed a few days ago.

His sense of godly fun had a creative outlet for many years in his job as the west coast director of Young Life (I became a Christian in high school through my involvement with Young Life). He founded Coalition on Revival in 1984, in order to hold the visible church accountable to the fundamentals of the faith and to encourage Christians to fulfill their task of dominion in all areas of life.

Let me share a couple of anecdotes in which the Friedrichs’ lives have happily intersected with Dr. Grimstead’s joie de vivre.

In 1992, when Bush Sr. was running for reelection, we were still living in Silicon Valley. Vice President Quayle was coming to San Francisco for a fundraising dinner, to help a Republican senatorial candidate, Bruce Herschensohn. Jay invited Steve and me and some other Christian couples to go to the dinner as he had a table reserved there. So we got dressed up, piled into the Grimsteads’ van and headed for the big(ger) city.

When we got near our destination, we had trouble finding a place to park. We had to park several blocks away from the Chinatown restaurant which was sponsoring the dinner. Jay gave everyone styrofoam hats with red, white and blue bands, and he brought his trumpet. As we walked up the street, Jay played “God Bless America” on his trumpet, and we all smiled and laughed. Until we turned the corner. When we went around the corner we saw a mass of people, there to protest the vice president’s visit. Most of them were obviously sodomites who did not like Quayle’s “traditional values” message. The sidewalks were lined with these protesters who were being held back by barricades and police dressed in riot gear. There was no place to walk.

Because of the trumpet music, all eyes turned toward us when we came around the corner. They were not friendly looks. Since the sidewalks were packed, we all walked up the middle of the street to get to the restaurant. The spectators started to yell at us, and one of the proponents of tolerance ran into the street and threw himself on the ground in front of us to block our way. We walked around him and he got up and did it again, over and over. Then the crowd showed its respect for private property and free speech by grabbing vegetables from the market stands and pelting us while we walked. I got hit behind the ear with an ear…of corn. The police just watched.

We finally made it to our destination and had a nice dinner and got to see the vice president. Of course, he and Bush lost the election, and so did our senate candidate. But we got to eat with chopsticks and try eating octopus for the first (and last) time. When we left, the protesters had gone home and we made it to the van unmolested.

Last winter (2002), Steve and our oldest boys went to Fresno to help Dr. Grimstead do some precinct walking for a conservative, Christian congressional candidate. Hans and Ben rode with “Grandpa Jay” one of the days, along with a couple of other young people, and he took them out to dinner that evening. They went to the Olive Garden, and he regaled them with one story after another. Jay’s voice is rather penetrating, and he is a gifted raconteur, and the people at the next table were enjoying his stories as well. The lady asked Ben if Dr. Grimstead was a comedian. Ben told her that he was, “kind of.” Jay overheard this exchange and went to the next table, kneeled down, and serenaded the lady with his lovely tenor voice, singing “When You Wish Upon a Star.”

After we moved to the Gold Country, we visited some friends in the Bay Area one weekend, and we ran into the Grimsteads at church. They invited us to lunch, and we all went out to enjoy a delicious and healthy (Donna is a big proponent of healthy eating) meal. Jay is wonderful with children. He kept our family entertained throughout the meal, and one funny little skit he did really tickled our children, and we still laugh about it sometimes.

Grandpa Jay grabbed a paper napkin and scrunched it into a “bow.” He held it over his mouth like a moustache and growled, “You must pay the rent! You must pay the rent!”

Then he held the bow/napkin up to his head, like a ribbon in his hair, and squeaked, “I can’t pay the rent! I can’t pay the rent!”

Then, playing the villain once more with his napkin/moustache, he repeated, louder, “You MUST pay the rent! You MUST pay the rent!”

The poor lady in distress, in her pleading voice, with her napkin/bow, cried once more, “I CAN’T pay the rent! I CAN’T pay the rent!”

Then the hero appeared, and he held the napkin to his throat as a bow tie: “I’LL pay the rent!”

The grateful heroine with her napkin/hairbow: “My hero!”

And the villain with his napkin/moustache groaned, “Curses, foiled again!”

The moral of this story is that our friend Dr. Grimstead helps to dispel the myth of the dour Calvinist. May his tribe increase.