DCC News

 

Weekly e-newsletter for members and friends of the Dublin Community Church

 

February 6, 2009

                                                           

Don’t Ever Say Goodnight

It seemed like such a good idea.

I had the evening off and about a week ago I saw an ad for a musical group. It mentioned jazz, which I like. It mentioned the venue, a place that I always enjoy. What could go wrong?

Actually, it started out quite well. The weather was brisk and clear. The roads in my area of Metro Columbus are pretty good, except for my long driveway which is a two inch thick sheet of ice. It would take a county truck worth of salt to melt the thing and then the runoff would pollute the surrounding farmland. So the toughest part of the trip was down my drive.

I went to one of my favorite restaurants in one of my favorite sections of Columbus. The evening was clearly off to a good start.

A number of years ago I went to a concert in Berkeley. One of my favorite groups was playing and I rather enjoyed the evening, save for the nerve damage to my ears. They are still ringing from that concert 28 years ago. It was then that I decided to limit my indoor concerts to more mellow groups and save the Rock n Rollers for the outdoor stadiums.

On this night I got a mellow group. Very mellow. Maybe somnambulant. The concert had been billed as jazz and a couple other genres but this was strictly New Age. I think I nodded off at a couple points in the concert. I suppose that could be good but it proved to be a rather expensive nap. Anyway, I will compliment them on their musicianship. They were good. It was clear that they were in sync and the interplay among the band members was remarkable, but I could not discern a tune, a melody or a common musical theme.

 

I looked around the audience and one guy in front of me down the row was into it. His head was nodding in time to the music. Mine was too, but it was from falling asleep. This guy was just “into” the music. I thought maybe he was the only one, but no, most everyone was awake and listening. After an hour. An hour which I will never get back. An hour which would “try men’s souls,” an hour in which time and space stood still. After an hour, the band members stopped (though it was hard to tell that they had stopped since they were so mellow in the first place.). They put down their instruments and stood away from their computerized keyboards.

The audience paused and paused a bit more. Like funerals, people sort of realize that it is over and they look around and file out. But not this audience. They paused another second and broke into thunderous applause. No kidding. These guys were rock stars to this audience. Something had eluded me. The crowd went wild and gave them a standing ovation. I wondered if they had heard what I had heard. Perhaps they were listening to something in a parallel universe, but no, we had all heard the same music. It was me. I didn’t get it.

I thought, “There is a God,” because we were finally about to leave. But no, the leader said something and I realized he intended to play more. I panicked a bit because the first “song” was one hour long (I don’t want to hear anyone complain about a 16-minute sermon ever again). I have been over to the dark side and now we were about to go there again as they sat down to play more.

The encore was only one song. But that lasted 30 minutes.

Peace, Rev. Bob Tussing