Shows

 

I’m fortunate to have season tickets to Broadway Series South at DPAC.

Season tickets encourage me to see shows I otherwise might not see.

Some of the shows,

Like “Hadestown,”

Surprise me and make it onto my list of favorites.

Others of the shows,

Like “Oklahoma,”

Disappoint me and make it onto my list of never to see again.

Most of the shows, though,

Like “Six,”

Just entertain or challenge me and make it onto “Shows Seen” spreadsheet.

Most shows are shows that I’m glad that I saw

But that I wouldn’t necessarily seek out to see again.

(Although I’ll go to almost any show if someone asks.)

 

The latest of these shows was “A Beautiful Noise: The Neil Diamond Musical.”

While it was a fun-ish show with lots of recognizable music—

I had no idea how many Neil Diamond songs I knew—

And while I appreciated the normalization of therapy that it presented—

Neil Diamond was a very anxious, somewhat depressed man—

Something about it didn’t click with me…

 

Having season tickets means seeing some of the same people at each show.

But there are also a lot of different people at the shows—

And the demographic of the people changes with each show.

This demographic was Neil Diamond lovers.

And I must say that I am thankful they are not the demographic for most shows…

Because there was a woman sitting behind me

Who talked and sang through the entire performance.

 

At one point, the woman got mad at the person beside me for adjusting herself in her seat.

She said, “I can’t see. The f#*%ing head in front of me.”

At another point, in a particularly poignant moment in the show,

She kept saying, “No! Cancel! No! Don’t go!”

As if her comments were going to change the course of history.

She sang along during the upbeat songs and

She sang along during the slow songs.

One time she sang right through a dramatic fermata.

I about went crazy!

I couldn’t even enjoy the show because

The woman behind me was watching it as if she were at home watching TV.

 

Now, I’ll admit:

Sometimes I make brief comments during shows,

Though I try to whisper them or speak them quietly during the applause,

And sometimes I accidentally sing a note or two of a song as well.

But I hope I don’t make the show miserable for those around me.

Because most live theater is not an active spectator sport

Rather a passive spectator event.

 

What about you?

Have you ever had a bad show experience?

Do you have shows that you hate?

Do you have shows that you love?

Do you have shows to which you are indifferent?

Let’s go for movies, too.

 

And…

Go!

 

I think some fun conversation might be good for us right now.

 

PS. Les Miserables, Ragtime, Rent, Wicked, Annie, Waitress and The Color Purple are on the list that I must always see. And Jekyll and Hyde, The Lightning Thief: The Percy Jackson Musical, Little Women, Honk!, and Next To Normal are shows that I especially wouldn’t mind paying money to see again. Everything else, except for Oklahoma so far, is on the “I would see it again if someone gave me tickets” list.

Peace

 

In 1867, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote the lyrics to the carol, “I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day,” after his son was injured in the Civil War and his wife died when her dress caught fire. Walking down the street on a cold winter’s day, Longfellow heard Christmas bells begin to play…and he penned this poem:

 

“I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

Their old familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet the words repeat

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

 

I thought how, as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along the unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

 

And in despair I bowed my head:

"There is no peace on earth," I said,

"For hate is strong and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men."

 

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

"God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,

With peace on earth, good will to men."

 

Till, ringing singing, on its way,

The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,

Of peace on earth, good will to men!”

 

I don’t know about you, but I get it when Longfellow writes,

“And in despair I bowed my head:

‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said,

‘For hate is strong and mocks the song,

Of peace on earth, good will to men."

 

And I get it when he writes,

“Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

‘God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,

With peace on earth, good will to men."

 

I get the journey from joy to despair and back again.

I understand walking through heartache and grief,

Questioning everything I’ve known to be true,

But deciding, in the end, to rest upon peace.

 

Friends: Peace is not the absence of conflict but the presence of Love.

And even when life is difficult—

Political upheaval, wars raging, people dying, children suffering—

Love, God’s love, is there.

 

Amen.

Common Courtesy

 

I went to Amelia The Niece’s choir concert on Friday night and watched something frustratingly funny happen. 

 

The concert was in a church sanctuary, so the audience was sitting on pews. 

My family and I were sitting about halfway back. 

 

Proper concert etiquette for a choral concert, 

or any non-rock band live music concert really, 

is to arrive on time, 

to sit quietly and listen, 

to only enter and exit during applause if you must leave for some reason, 

to turn your phone to silent, 

and not to film. 

Some performance programs specifically request that you do not film due to copyright infringement 

While other performance programs do not mention this request. 

But still, it’s courteous to the people behind you not to film during the concert. 

Holding your camera up obstructs people’s view and accidentally encourages people to look through your camera instead of at the actual performers. 

 

We just so happened to end up sitting three and four rows behind two different families who did not follow proper filming concert etiquette.

 

Each time their children sang,

They held up their phones and recorded the entire song.

 

What was frustratingly funny was that at the end of the concert, all groups sang together.

So both camera families needed to film.

The family on the third row up got annoyed with the family on the fourth row up and moved to the right so that their view would not be obstructed.

They then held up their camera and obstructed the view of the people newly behind them.

I couldn’t help but think of how inconsiderate that was,

To do the exact thing that was annoying them in the first place.

 

We live in a society that encourages us to put our own needs first. 

Maybe we should live counter-culturally 

And consider how we can be courteous to those around us while also taking care of our own needs.

 

In this instance:

Film a few seconds. 

Sit on the outside aisle so that your camera is not in the middle aisle.

Snap a picture during the applause.

Remember the performance in your brain rather than trying to keep everything on your phone.

How often do we go back and watch our videos anyway?

 

It’s little things, really,

That show courtesy:

Holding the door for the customer behind you,

Being ready to go through the ATM before you drive up to the machine,

Asking the person behind you if it’s OK to recline your seat a little on the plane,

Not singing along in the movie theater even though you really want to sing along.

 

May we be a people of courtesy that’s not so common anymore 

And may we not do to others the exact same things that annoy us. 

 

Amen. 

Not Alone

 

I’ve been thinking about it for a few days,

And I’ve decided that

Part of the reason

There aren’t a lot of Thanksgiving songs

Is because Thanksgiving isn’t a liturgical season.

Thanksgiving isn’t part of the liturgical calendar at all

Because Thanksgiving is very much an American holiday

And the liturgical calendar is very much a world-wide thing.

 

Additionally,

Thanksgiving isn’t a money maker.

Though we’ve gotten very good at commercializing holidays,

Thanksgiving doesn’t really take hold because

There’s not a culturally accepted gimmick

And true Thanks-Giving can’t be monetized.

 

Furthermore,

Thanksgiving is only a one-day holiday.

Why write music about a one-day holiday?

 

And so,

The Thanksgiving music canon is small.

 

And yet,

Shouldn’t it, truly, be the biggest canon of all?

 

No.

Not songs about America’s bumpy and sometimes ugly past,

But songs about Thanks-giving,

Giving thanks,

Songs about gratefulness for

All that we have,

All that we are,

And all that we will be.

Not songs diminishing

Hurt, pain, heartache, and despair,

But songs that recognize that

Through it all,

There is reason to be thankful.

 

On this Thanksgiving Day,

Without many songs dedicated specifically to this day,

May we find songs that resonate with our hearts

And express whatever gratitude we can muster for

All that life brings.

The day will be hard for many—

Grieving loved ones,

Missing loved ones,

Feeling alone,

Being alone—

Yet we can remind those around us,

Through words and presence,

That they are not alone.

 

Which reminds me of a song.

 

Child you’re not alone in this world

And you never have to be.

No I will never forsake you

If you put your trust in me

Trust in the Lord with all your heart

And I will lead you through

When the storms rage

And the battles are fought

I am here with you.

 

Thanks be to God.

 

Amen.

A Blanket's Comfort

 

When I realized that it was time for me to cull my CD collection, I also realized that there were songs that I didn’t want to let go of. 

 

As a result, I made an Amazon Music playlist called, “Old Favorites.“

 

So many of the songs on the playlist have memories attached to them. I hear them, and I’m taken back to specific times and places, most of which were during my college years and my early 20s.

 

Over time, as my understanding of God has expanded, I have found that a lot of the songs no longer reflect my theology. 

 

And yet. For the past week, I have listened to nothing other than my Old Favorites. 

 

There is something to the space that they hold. Comfort. Memory. A simpler faith, maybe? A belief in God that is steady and true, even when I don’t understand where God is or what God is doing other than living in and through us. 

 

As Sandi Patti says, “There is s Saviour. What joys express. His eyes are mercy. His word is rest. For each tomorrow. For yesterday. There is a Saviour. Who lights our way.”

 

Whatever happens tonight. Whatever happens tomorrow. Whatever happens in the days to come. I’m holding to that Saviour, not because God is going to swoop down and make everything right, but because “God is God, and I am not” (thank you Steven Curtis Chapman) and I have faith in something so much bigger than myself. 

The Archies

 

We had our Fall Festival at school this past Friday night. 

My job for each year’s festival is to be the DJ. 

In preparation for this year’s big event, 

I curated a playlist on Amazon Music. 

It was a mix of Halloween music and upbeat music from different decades.

I even asked my colleagues for song requests so that I knew the music would be relevant. 

 

After I got the sound system set up and tried to connect my phone to the speaker via Bluetooth, 

I realized that I was standing in a dead zone.

My phone had no cell signal

Nor would it connect to the school’s Internet.

The result? 

No access to my carefully curated playlist. 

 

Thankfully, I had packed two computers just in case.

Thankfully, again, both computers would connect to the school’s Internet.

Thankfully, for the third time, a friend let me use her YouTube music account and I was able to access the music with no commercials.

And so, I stood typing in the names of songs from the playlist and using YouTube song suggestions.

 

For an hour and a half, 

All was going well…

Until I played one song.

 

Now. 

I like the song Sugar Sugar.

It’s a cute tune from the 1960s and I have a cup game lesson that goes along with it.

So when I started playing it,

I did not expect the older gentleman who was sitting near me

To jump up and come walking toward me with a sense of urgency,

Yelling, “The Archie’s! No! No! No!  Absolutely not!

Stop that music right now!”

 

Afraid that I had accidentally played a politically incorrect group from the 60s,

Or that I had unknowingly triggered a PTSD memory, 

Or that something was majorly wrong,

I immediately stopped the music. 

My heart was racing and I felt a little sick.

I shakingly fumbled to try to find a new song to fill the sudden silence,

All the while, listening to the man say,

“No bubblegum pop.

Bubblegum pop is terrible.

You can play any other style of music, just don’t play that.”

And then he chastised me for being a music teacher who didn’t know what bubblegum pop was. 

 

After he walked away,

I became paranoid about the music I was playing.

Suddenly, not only was I mindful of trying not to play music with cuss words,

But I was also mindful of not playing music that might trigger someone,

Or in this case, 

Possibly just annoy someone who made a really big, somewhat scary deal about it. 

 

We live in precarious times. 

There is so much deep seated trauma 

That we don’t know how to deal with it. 

There is so much anger and emotion that it explodes at weird times 

And transfers to weird situations. 

An elementary school Fall Festival is definitely a weird time. 

And being yelled at and demeaned for playing a song was definitely a weird situation.  

 

But hey. 

Other than that, I had a nice time. 

And that’s something, right?

 

A Dream Come True

 

My mom has been playing piano for 73 years.

She started lessons when she was 8

And been playing ever since.

 

For as long as I can remember,

Daily piano playing has been part of my mom’s life.

I remember the Story and Clark in the dining room of the parsonage in Tabor City,

I remember it in the living room at the house on Forest Avenue, and

I remember it in the living room of the parsonage in Bunnlevel.

I remember getting the Yamaha Baby Grand when we moved into our current house,

And it is her joy to play it.

 

Two years ago this winter,

My mom invited a family friend into the house with his recording equipment.

Together, they recorded 17 of her favorite songs.

Because of various life circumstances,

Nothing happened with those 17 songs until a couple of months ago…

When the wheels of producing a CD finally began to turn.

 

With the help of my sister and another family friend,

My mom produced a very professional, top-notch CD.

My mom’s dream was to gift this CD to friends and family members

Who have encouraged her along the way.

 

Her dream came true yesterday when she gave away 30 physical CDs

And shared the web address to her online playlist with many others.   

 

I think what’s so special about my mom’s playing is that it’s not just playing.

It’s her heart.

And she has now shared that heart with the world,

 

To say that I am proud is an understatement.

I know of my mom’s hard work and her dedication to the craft,

And I know that she considers playing piano her highest act of worship.

 

I am blessed beyond measure to be the beneficiary of my mom’s practice,

And I consider it pure joy to have witnessed her concert yesterday

And to have seen the tears of humility and gratitude stream down her face.

 

…

 

One of my mom’s shirt’s says:

God grant me the serenity to accept things I cannot change,

Courage to change things when I can, and

Wisdom to know when to play the piano.

 

May I be so wise as my mom,

And use my talents for the betterment of others

And building of God’s kin-dom of Love.

 

Amen.