Monday, June 28, 2004

Good thing I can count to ten

Had to leave for church ten minutes earlier than normal Sunday morning (not the ten referenced in the title). I was scheduled to sing in the morning service and the EAC was accompanying me on the piano. Needed to get there early before Sunday School started so we could get a sound check. Like volume is ever a problem with me. Heh. Anywat, "Be there at 9:15," I was told. Ok, fine, that's no problem. And miracle of miracles, everybody was even ready to go on time. Got in the car and about two miles down the road, Mrs. A says, "Do you have your music?" D'oh! Turned back around and Mrs. A dashed into the house, grabbed the music, and we were back on the road, five minutes later than the first time we left, but still early enough to make it by 9:15 - if the lights were mostly green.

Made it to the church and got to the sanctuary for the sound check at 9:15 exactly.

Only the song leader had a men's quartet rehearsing. Fine, no problem. I'll just stand over here and wait. I'm sure they'll be done in just a minute.

Only they weren't. The song they were singing had a bunch of verses. And they sang them all. Finally, they were done and they briefly put their heads together and then started in on another song.


It's not like they didn't know I was there and the song leader is the one who had admonished me to be there at 9:15. Stay calm. Count to ten. Do it again. Ah. Finally. Their second song was over.

Now they're discussing when to meet to practice again (and the way that second song sounded, they need it). And not moving to the side to do it. Try not to think bad thoughts about being told to be there at 9:15, when clearly that was not a good time. Count to ten again. And again.

It finally dawns on the song leader why I'm there and he gets folks out of the way. At 9:25 I do a run-through. No problems with sound. Well, other than the ones coming from me, that is. The EAC played flawlessly.

Singing in the service later on seemed to go well too. At least there weren't any retching sounds or a mass exodus out the back doors, so I take that as a sign of, at a minimum, acceptance. Kind of the, "He may be a goober, but he's OUR goober," sort of thing.

Then again, the visitors that sat right in front of me did seem to be in a hurry to leave after the service ended...

  • |