Once every two years, something magical happens. Dissolute rabble-rousers from all over the US and Canada descend upon one very unfortunate city, fill the streets with the musty scent of manure and Volvos and pollute the air with the sound of four-part harmony.
Onlookers look on. Children scream. Women Cry. Mad men kick the dust up with their paltry heels and curse life’s twisted art.
The official name for this event: the Mennonite Church USA Convention ___insert year___. I call it “Mennocon.”
It’s always in exotic locations like Columbus or Pittsburgh. Once it was in San Jose and that was almost unbearably exotic, albeit random and absolutely meaningless. I still wonder if they used the “throw a dart at the map!” method. Who knows, next year it could be ten miles off the coast of Mobile. The citizens of Mobile would never know the horror that almost befell them.
During my high school years I, like numbers of fellow Mennonites, made the trek to Mennocon. It is—and I am not making this up—an ingathering of Mennonites of varying ages from the US and Canada, which involves seminars, groups eatin’s, worship services, and—what else?—COMMITTEE MEETIN’S. This explains the smell of manure I mentioned earlier.
LOL JK LUV U GUISE
I’m sure you’re all wondering about the seminars. They were on different topics really, including “Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll” and “Mennonite Colleges in Canada” and “Mennonite Colleges in the US.” Really, these seminars could have been combined. Oh yeah, there were ones on comparing the bible to famous fantasy novels such as Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, and, yes, Harry Potter. I am a dork and went to one of these. And the speaker made a joke about Mennos being like Hobbits, so it was worth it.
There were also options for groups to get hooked up with different volunteer organizations in the areas we were staying in. Our group always did that. One year we put on a community party for some kids and another year we worked at a community thrift store doing sorting and general clean up.
Well, other than this there isn’t much to be said about Mennocon. I went to two of them, though. Here are my “fondest” memories from Mennocon:
-Going out for a meal with other future Goshen College students and getting a bottle thrown at our group from a moving vehicle driven by locals. I wanted it to hit me.
-When whoever put together the slides for the worship service wrote “prostate” instead of “prostrate” for the old hymn “All Hail the Pow’r of Jesus’ Name.” It was running on a loop so basically every day for a week we sang “Let the angels PROSTATE fall.”
-Attending a really big outdoor hymn-sing in San Jose. That was actually cool.
-Playing three hours of hardcore Dutch Blitz on the floor of one of the hotel’s lounges in San Jose.
-Making a pit stop in Charleston on the way to Charlotte, NC and having someone ask us if we were “They-er for the Nas-carrrr”
-Finding “exciting” underwear in the donation bins at a Goodwill we volunteered at in San Jose.
-Sticking my feet in the Pacific Ocean. Then back into my shoes to get on the bus.
-Leading everyone back to our hotel like Moses when we got “lost” watching the fireworks in Charlotte.
-Collecting a multitude of pens from seminars and booths.
And here are some pictures from Mennocon ’07 in San Jose:
Picture taken just before I pulled the fire alarm. No worship service that day! Nyuk-nyuk-nyuk. A few got trampled but I think we all knew that it was for the good of the whole.
Look at all those layabout Mennos hanging around outside the convention center! Nasty!
I met this guy on a group excursion to the Santa Cruz boardwalk. We exchanged info. He was alright.
Don’t leave home without reading the next issue:
MENNO HOT TOPIC #1: Where’d All the Kids Get To?
The Mennonite Table 