What a weird and wonderful place! Jungle Jim’s International Market is simultaneously one of the most American places I’ve ever been and one of the most international places I’ve ever been. It’s enormous, in-your-face self-promotion and capitalism, but it also has an impressive collection of food products from around the world.
I went with some friends during a break in the Collegiate Staff Conference. We were led by our friend Daniel, who recently got special access to tour the original Jungle Jim’s location (in Fairfield, Ohio) for his Weird U.S. series. And even though Daniel said that it wasn’t exactly the same, the second Jungle Jim’s location (in Cincinnati) really did feel like it brought the weird out of us.
The bathrooms at Jungle Jim’s seemed to be quite spacious and modern, but the entrances were designed to look like portable plastic toilet facilities. And that was kind of how the whole place felt: like it was trying to surprise me, shock me, and delight me. Largely successfully, honestly.
There was an animatronic display area, like what one might expect to find at a Chuck E. Cheese restaurant — except this display featured Kellogg’s Tony the Tiger Frosted Flakes mascot riding on a carousel horse and talking with the Two-Scoops-of-Raisins-in-the-Sun Raisin Bran mascot. Tony was roughly twice the size of me, for reference.
They had a pretty impressive selection of products from the Netherlands (three times the amount that’s pictured below). But it was mostly sweet snacks that I never enjoyed all that much while living in Amsterdam. I might have bought a bar of Verkade chocolate, if they would have had the dark chocolate with hazelnuts. But it was probably just as well that I didn’t get anything, given the exorbitant amount of calories that I was consuming at meals throughout the conference.
They had several aisles for different varieties of hot sauce, with a life-sized twin-engine airplane mounted overhead… They had a large wall of novelty soft drinks including flavors like dirt, and ranch dressing, and pickles… They had maybe half a dozen piles of forty-pound bags of basmati rice…
They sold kangaroo meat… and huge sections of king crab legs for $109/pound… but they also had a pretty normal bakery section and a normal-sized aisle of American breakfast cereals… It was a special place.
If you’re ever in Southwest Ohio, I’d say it’s worth a visit. Maybe not as a destination in and of itself, but definitely a fun side trip.
My line of work involves a lot of time with people: meetings… events… and conferences. And one of those conferences is the annual Collegiate Conference in the Cincinnati metropolitan area this week. I’ve had a complicated relationship with these conferences through the years. Sometimes I’ve felt too busy; other times I’ve felt like I haven’t been busy enough. Sometimes I’ve felt insecure about how invisible I’ve felt; other times I’ve felt insecure about how much I’ve been in the public eye. And almost every time, I hit a wall of social exhaustion as an introvert in a space filled with talkative people.
In recent years, however, I’ve started to feel more balanced as I’ve adopted the mindset of viewing these conferences as a fun family road trip with our H2O Kent team.
We get a change of scenery. We get to eat delicious meals at interesting restaurants (Milkman and Lucius Q were especially lovely). And we get lots of time to build relational capital among our staff team (the “family” in this road trip) — as well as staff from other churches in the Collegiate Church Network (a sort of “extended family”).
I sincerely appreciate the conference programming that allows for worship, Bible study, vision-casting, transfer of information, and collaboration on best practices in different areas of ministry to the next generation. But the thing that really keeps me running this road (figuratively and literally) is the chance to do it alongside my spiritual brothers and sisters.
I’ll need a couple of days to recover: physically, emotionally, and (as weird as it might seem to say this regarding a Christian conference) spiritually, after our return to Kent. But that’s kind of the way it is with fun family road trips, anyway. I’m glad when I get to take them, and I’m glad when I get to return home at the end of them.
We’ve been doing Spiritual Interest Surveys at Kent State University for several years, as we’ve found they’re a good way to start spiritual conversations in an academic context. We mostly care about qualitative conversations, helping to train the students who call H2O Church their spiritual home while also trusting God to bring us to people who are curious about meaning, purpose, and spirituality — but we do also like to track the trends. In previous years, it’s been a Google Form of our own design. This school year, however, we decided to take advantage of a new tool provided for us by the Collegiate Church Network. And we’ve been really impressed by the results. Not only is the data easier to track with this new system, we’re also finding that it creates an opening for sharing the Good News of Jesus approximately fifty percent more than our previous system!
I love this on so many levels! There are some key insights from this data, which I’ll try to summarize below. But I also like to keep the raw, uninterpreted data available for analysis (by others, and also by myself, as a historical data point). So here are the numbers from two months of using the Collegiate Student Survey, with 190 surveys completed through September and October 2026:
Are you an undergraduate student or a graduate student?
93.7% undergraduate students
5.8% graduate students
0.5% other
Are you an international student?
90.5% no
9.5% yes
How would you describe your current religious identity?
56.3% Christian
17.9% Agnostic
9.5% No religion
8.4% Atheist
2.6% Spiritual but not religious
2.1% Hindu
1.6% Other
1.1% Muslim
0.5% Buddhist
How often do you think about questions related to meaning, purpose, or spirituality?
48.9% often
26.3% sometimes
21.6% rarely
3.2% never
What has your experience been with the church?
45.8% I attended church growing up but no longer attend
26.8% I currently attend church regularly
11.1% I have attended church once or twice
8.9% I have never attended church
7.4% I attend church occasionally for weddings, funerals, or holidays
If you were invited to go to church, what might make you hesitant to go?
24.7% Nothing would stop me
16.7% I do not know anyone there
16% I am not interested in religion
14% I am too busy
12.7% I worry I would feel judged
12% Other
4% I have had a bad experience with church
Do any of your friends identify as Christian?
88.4% Yes
11.1% No
0.5% Not sure
Has your Christian friend ever told you why they are a Christian?
52.7% no
38.4% yes
8.9% not sure
Has anyone ever personally told you the story of Jesus?
69.5% Yes
22.1% No
8.4% Not sure
What do you personally think about Jesus?
51.6% I believe he is the Son of God
29.5% I think he was a great teacher or moral figure
10.5% I’m not sure what I think
5.8% I do not believe he was anything special
2.6% I have never really thought about it
Would you be open to hearing the story of Jesus?
52.1% Yes
29.5% No
18.4% Maybe later
I’d be sincerely curious to hear any observations that others might have in crunching these numbers. But here are a few of the things that stood out to me:
Over 75% of Kent State students in our survey indicated that they think about questions related to meaning, purpose, or spirituality “often” or “sometimes!” It’s a sharp juxtaposition with what I see on a day-to-day, week-to-week basis. Especially in a liberal, laissez-faire environment like Kent State University, students often give off the sense that they’re “just living in the moment.” Their highest priority often seems to be their own pleasure and comfort. But this survey says otherwise! This truth can be remarkably empowering for those of us who feel insecure about starting spiritual conversations because it reveals that many might be eager for an opportunity to talk about these things with someone.
Over 40% of Kent State students in our survey would attend church if a friend simply invited them as their guest! That means there’s not nearly as much antagonism towards Christians or the Church as we sometimes fear. Almost a quarter of the students we’ve talked to say that nothing would stop them from visiting a church, and another sixth just need some reassurance that they wouldn’t be all by themselves in an unfamiliar environment.
Over 70% of Kent State students in our survey say that they are open to hearing the story of Jesus! Over half of the time that we ask this question, we get an opportunity to share the Good News on the spot. Another fifth of the time, they say “Maybe later,” and this sometimes leads to an actual follow-up conversation (though most of the time it doesn’t). Regardless of the practicalities, the posturing seems significant. Students aren’t putting up their dukes to fight or running away scared. They are greeting these conversations with open arms, relatively speaking. And to add some of my own anecdotal evidence, all parties involved in these survey- and storytelling situations are having a good time in these encounters! It’s really pretty amazing what God can do with a Spiritual Interest Survey.
I know that a serious social scientist might have some legitimate questions about our “research methodology.” We don’t track the number of people who decline to participate in our survey (though I’d guess it’s something like 20% of the people we approach). We clearly identify ourselves at the beginning of the survey as people who are involved with a student organization called H2O, or H2O Church, so we’re bringing some bias into the survey process — even when we tell respondents that we’re sincerely interested in their beliefs, that they don’t have to try and tell us what they think we might want to hear. I can grant that the survey is not as scientific as it could be. But I’m still encouraged to see how God is working in these spaces, and I hope that others can be encouraged by these findings, too.
It’s hard to see how the fall colors could get much more “peak” than this.
We’re right at the tipping point where trees with bare branches are about to win out over trees that still have green leaves. It’s good to remember that it will be a gradual diminishment in color for the next several weeks, just as it was a gradual advance in color for the last several weeks. Still, there is some sadness to hit this inflection point.
I went for my 110th double-loop of Jessie Smith Park this afternoon: now completing my tenth month of eleven circuits per month. Lots of crunchy, swishy footsteps on this one. I tried to savor the moment as best I could.
October is a truly special time of the year in Northeast Ohio. The colors on the trees even correspond with the colors representing the region’s favorite sports teams! We are all witnesses.
My travels to Western Pennsylvania were not just geeking out about Mister Rogers. In fact, they were primarily to connect with my oldest son and daughter. They’ve both settled in Pittsburgh since their respective graduations from Kent State University: Elliot moving to the Bloomfield neighborhood in 2024, Olivia to the Squirrel Hill neighborhood in 2026. The city seems to suit them well, so I was eager to see Pittsburgh through their eyes. I was really thankful for the way they prioritized our time together, and they impressed me with their hospitality throughout the weekend.
I coordinated my arrival to coincide with the end of Elliot’s and Olivia’s work week on Friday evening. Before we got to any of the fun stuff, I had a minivan full of furniture to move into Olivia’s apartment upon arrival. It didn’t take long, though, and the arm chairs, bookshelf, desk, desk chair, and entryway table really did make the apartment feel more cozy. After putting the furniture in place, we walked to the Squirrel Hill business district for some dinner at a Northern-Chinese place called Amazing Dumplings. While we ate, we talked about what makes a good week for each of us… We talked about our creative outlets… We talked about our jobs… And I was sincerely grateful for the opportunity to connect on the level of our hearts, minds, and souls. After dinner, we stopped at a different Asian eatery to get my first taste of tanghulu (which, at least in this case, was skewered strawberries coated in a sweet, glasslike crust) for dessert.
Saturday morning, I woke up early while Elliot and Olivia enjoyed the opportunity to sleep in, and I went out for a run to complete my Mister Rogers Pilgrimage, following a route I’d plotted out that included two of the houses where he used to live, the church where he worshipped, the television station where he produced his program, and the Pittsburgh Athletic Club where he went for his daily exercise in the swimming pool.
Around mid-morning, Elliot and I drove over to Olivia’s place to enjoy a walk around Squirrel Hill and Schenley Park. We got bagels and coffee from Pigeon Bagel — a sesame bagel with plain schmear and an iced, half-sweet black sesame and salted maple latte for me — and I was amazed to discover that the bagel was still warm from the oven (not the toaster). It wasn’t hard to see why the line was 25 people out the door and onto the sidewalk.
At Schenley Park, I got to see one of the trails that Olivia has been using when she goes running. We walked to an area called The Oval, where we got a scenic view of downtown Pittsburgh. We walked past the Neil Log House, where Meriwether Lewis stayed for a little while before he and William Clark started their epic travels to explore the American West. And then I showed Elliot and Olivia one of the houses I’d discovered where Mister Rogers lived and one of the churches where Mister Rogers had regularly worshipped (which Olivia had also happened to visit a couple weeks back!).
Dobra Tea was the last stop of our Squirrel Hill walkabout. We happened to run into some of Elliot’s and Olivia’s friends at the front door to the establishment. And then after some introductions and conversation, we went inside and sat at separate tables. We had to ring a small bell to summon a server and place our order for a pot of chai with tiny mugs. Kind of a Turkish, New Age vibe to the place. Only $7 for a whole (albeit small) pot of tea.
We drove together to Elliot’s place for lunch, and then we drove to Mount Washington for a scenic overlook of the city. The drive-times were great for hearing some of the music that Elliot and Olivia have been enjoying (and now I get to continue enjoying them, too). We took the Duquesne Incline to get the full experience, and it was quirky, campy, fun, and of-a-different-era. Elliot warned us that it would be pretty rickety, so I actually ended up being pleasantly surprised by how smoothly it operated for a late-19th Century conveyance. While we enjoyed the ride down Mount Washington, waited in line, and rode back up to where our car was parked on the top of Mount Washington, we talked about some of the things about Pittsburgh that have surprised and delighted Elliot and Olivia… and also about what they’ve found themselves missing from Northeast Ohio. They’ve been delighted with how quickly and easily they’ve been able to make friends in Pittsburgh, but they’ve missed how easy it was to get around from place to place in the Kent area with ease and confidence.
After returning to our car at the top of Mount Washington, we had to boogie to get back to Elliot’s apartment and walk to the bus stop across the street. But we made it in time for our preferred bus headed downtown — where we were going to get the chance to watch a hockey game between the Pittsburgh Penguins and the Nashville Predators. Somewhere along the way, we decided that it was an absolute priority to be one of the first 7,500 fans in attendance to get the Iceburgh (Penguin mascot) building blocks set. So we marched straight from the bus stop to the arena where we secured our prizes.
The game itself was fun — and my second hockey game in eight days — ending with the Penguins winning in overtime, 3-2. Compared to the game in Bowling Green, the game in Pittsburgh was definitely a more polished product on the ice, with more polished and prodigious packaging in the arena. But I actually liked both the Falcons game and the Penguins games for different reasons.
After the game, I decided to drive back to Kent to get a better night’s sleep in my own bed, as well as an easier start to a busy Sunday. But I really did love my time in Pittsburgh with my people. And I hope it won’t be too long before we get to do something like that again.
I made it to the Mister Rogers Memorial Statue just a little after noon. The site has a beautiful view of downtown Pittsburgh, and the river valley is truly a beautiful site to behold at this time of the year. Fall foliage near its peak color, temperatures just about right for wearing a zip-up cardigan (at least in the shade). The statue was larger than I expected it would be, and the figure was more roughly rendered, like whatever the three-dimensional form of an Impressionist’s painting might be.
But somehow it captured the essence of Mister Rogers: his smile, his gaze, his posture while changing his shoes in the entryway of his neighborhood house. A speaker mounted on the arch framing the statue played audio clips from the television series that made Mister Rogers a household name across America (and beyond) through the last three decades of the 20th Century: an aural version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears… the song that starts, “What do you do with the mad you feel?”… “It’s You I Like”… It really did feel like a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
It only took fifteen minutes of looking, touching, and taking pictures before I felt ready to drive another ten minutes for a lunch of Ohio-Valley-style pizza at a place called Beto’s. Marci and I got to talk on the phone while I waited for my “four cuts, topped with pepperoni and shredded provolone.” The lunch was delicious, interesting, and satisfying. It left me thinking: it’s such a good feeling to know I’m alive.
After lunch, I drove another hour outside of the city to Latrobe, where Fred Rogers grew up. I got to tour the Fred Rogers Center on the campus of Saint Vincent College: seeing four of his famous zip-up cardigans and six of the puppets from the original Neighborhood of Make Believe, among other things.
It only took me about forty-five minutes to see all I wanted to see. And that was seeing things at a Mister Rogers (slow) pace! Then I walked over to see the great red-brick cathedral on campus before returning to my car and making the short drive to Unity Cemetery, north from Saint Vincent College and west from the city of Latrobe.
It took a little bit of looking, but I eventually found the Given Mausoleum containing the earthly remains of Fred McFeely Rogers and some of his closest family members. After paying my respects, I sat down to enjoy the view from the steps of the mausoleum.
The forested slopes of the Allegheny Mountains rolled out in front of me, and I thought about the power of the idea that a person like me could be unique. “I make this day special by just my being me.” I’m thankful for the legacy of the Reverend Doctor (“Mister”) Fred Rogers — showing how inextricably linked the love of oneself, the love of one’s neighbor, and the love of God truly are. And I’m thankful that I got to dwell on that legacy through a sort of pilgrimage in Western Pennsylvania.
We’re back from Family Weekend in Bowling Green. The fun and festivities included meals at Campus Pollyeyes and Mister Spot’s… a hockey game… tailgating near Mount Jerome (a.k.a. Bill’s Hill)… a football game… a marching band half-time show… some meandering around campus… and a worship gathering with H2O Church. Everything we could have hoped for, and more.
More than any of the fun and festivities, though, the best part of the weekend by far was the time that Marci, Cor, and I got to spend together. We had rich conversation that wasn’t just puffy nostalgia but actual sharing of joy and pain, hope and disappointment. We learned a lot about each other and about the various places God has taken us through the years.
I thought it was was interesting to notice the way that the campus was smaller than it seemed in my memory. It only took 1.3 miles to walk all the way from the football stadium to the Dairy Queen on the other side of campus. Bowling Green is also remarkably more attuned to the “Heartland” of the United States, while Kent leans Eastward. Our family has been shaped by both spaces, both cultures. And it was worthwhile to spend some time sitting in that and appreciating that.
Marci and I rolled into Bowling Green around 4:30 PM. We picked Cor up from Kreischer, and then the three of us went directly to Campus Pollyeyes for an early dinner before the puck dropped on the ice hockey game between the Bowling Green State University Falcons and the Niagara University Eagles and, more generally, Bowling Green’s Family Weekend.
Even with our early arrival at Pollyeyes, the old school college town pizza pub was bumping. It took over an hour for the food to come out, but that was all right since we had a booth and some space to catch up as a family.
After we finished our stuffed breadsticks, we made our way to the Ice Arena on campus. For decades, I’ve held fond memories of my own time attending hockey games as a student at BGSU. But it was really fun to experience that environment again at this point in life. The arena was smaller than I remembered, but the culture and traditions were bigger. So many fun rituals including, but not limited to:
Turning the lights off as the visiting team was introduced, fans covering their faces with newspapers until a name from the opposing team was announced and only then putting the paper down just long enough to yell, “Who’s he?!? Nobody!!”
Sending an opposing team’s player to the Penalty Box by swirling a finger in the air with a rising “Aaaaaaaaaah” sound until he crosses the threshold and then finishing the crescendo with a big, “See ya!”
Responding to the announcement at the end of the penalty (“Niagara is back at full strength”) with a shout of “That’s debatable!” (Marci and I seemed to be more committed to that bit than most of the other fans, but we still had fun with it).
Responding to the announcement at the end of each period (“One minute remaining in the period”) with a should of, “…and Toledo still sucks!”
Watching the players exit the ice at the end of each period and yelling, “You suck!” to each opposing player and referee but cheering loudly for each BG player.
Standing up and yelling, “Sports!” at the end of a particular song played by the Pep Band.
I also caught a free T-shirt, thrown by the Screech Team, and it was an entertaining, back-and-forth game to watch. BG ended up losing in overtime, 3-2. Still, it was a good way to start the weekend. As a family. In Bowling Green.
My friend Daniel is hosting a series called Weird U.S. — and the first episode just dropped! I’m a big fan of Daniel, not just as a personality but as a person. He’s a man of quick wit and high character. So, I wanted to hype up his new project.
The show describes itself as follows:
Weird U.S. is the digital revival of a multi-million-copy cult favorite book franchise, reimagined as a YouTube travel channel for discovering America’s most peculiar places, hidden histories, offbeat traditions, and unforgettable characters.
We celebrate the wonderfully weird side of America, one state at a time.
I recently came across a Sean McKeever video on TikTok (his bio reveals that he also has a regular website). And I thought it was so clear and helpful that I thought I should share it. Particularly since it involves an area of concern for many young adults, like the ones who happen to be a part of my family and who happen to be a part of the church I lead.
In this video, McKeever notes that, “A University of Kansas study found that it takes approximately 50 hours to move from acquaintance to casual friend. It takes 90 to become a good friend. And then it takes 200+ hours to be a close, or best, friend. Importantly, the quality of the time matters a lot.” He then sketches out a chart on a piece of paper that calls to mind “back-of-the-napkin” figuring, and I thought it did a great job of demystifying the process of building friendships.
Casual Friend
Hours to make: 50 hours
Years at 3 hours per month: 1.4 years
Years at 3 hours per week: 0.3 years (3.5 months)
Good Friend
Hours to make: 90 hours
Years at 3 hours per month: 2.5 years
Years at 3 hours per week: 0.6 years (7 months)
Close / Best Friend
Hours to make: 200 hours
Years at 3 hours per month: 5.6 years
Years at 3 hours per week: 1.3 years
At the end of the video, he suggests, “If you want community, build a routine around it. Ideally with people nearby: same people, same time, every week, if you can help it. Make the hours easy to repeat, start stacking them up, profit.”
I’ve often told the young adults I know that it just takes time, that there’s no way that a friendship of three months can compare to a friendship of three years (much less three decades). So I encourage them to manage their expectations, practice patience, and gradually accrue the relational capital that will allow you to replicate the relationships that have meant the most to them in previous phases of life and locations in which they’ve lived. I choose to believe that there is still some mystery involved, but I also appreciate how practical and mathematical this can be as evidenced by the McKeever video and the University of Kansas study upon which it was based.
