Last night Andrew spoke on the phone for 56 minutes with a man he's never met. It's Hebron Adam's son-in-law, Charles. He wants Andrew to help him make a website and it turns out that they just had a lot to talk about.
Andrew rehashed some of their conversation for me as we were going to bed. I don't make the best conversationalist late at night. It's not my fault, really. It's just that my brain powers down at around 10 PM and then all I have left to work with is mushy brain residue.
Charles went to the Jerusalem Center to study Arabic with Kirk back in 1989. After he graduated from BYU in the 1990s he went to work for the government so he lived in either DC, Maryland, or Virginian. I don't remember quite where--remember, my brain had already turned off, but I was still trying to pay attention because the phrase "working for the government" could mean a good story.
"He lived in an apartment with a bunch of Arab families," said Andrew.
"Mmmhmmm," I yawned.
"And there was this one family that lived in the apartment above him. The man's name was Abdullah and the woman's name was Rania. They would hang out all the time" Andrew ended, finitively.
I waited patiently for him to continue his story. He didn't.
"Isn't there a story?" I asked.
"That was it," he said, "Isn't that cool?"
"Oh, yeah," I said sarcastically, "Nice story."
Andrew waited patiently for me to get it. I didn't.
"King Abdullah and Queen Rania," he explained, "Only back then he was just a prince."
"Oh, that Abdullah and Rania..." I hedged.
You'll have to excuse me. I'm a little bit slow.