Packed in like peeps

Happy Easter!

I was in church, although it had less to do with a compulsion to worship and more to do with the fact that I was playing the piano for a service and had already been paid for it. It was in the chapel, which is an 80-seat building that was the first Catholic church in the district . [dating from the 1800s I think...]

And it was going to be fun - my best friend from High School that I always talk about was cantoring. So it was just like what we used to do for fun, except it was church music instead of show tunes and "The Green Dog." And her brother-in-law was playing the trumpet - a family affair!

Remember I said 80-seat building.

So we're there early - and the room is packed. There's no time for me to practice anything on the organ, as there are already 40 people in the sanctuary by the time we're done talking through the service. So I'm playing piano instead, and sitting with my back to all the action. Awesome.

And the people keep coming. Well-dressed families and kids in their Easter finery squishing in to every corner of the tiny space.
Packing in like sardines, like the priest is going to give out "Get-out-of-Hell-FREE" gift cards.

Which means that I can't see though the wall of heads between me and the action on the altar.

And there are way more that 100 people in this little room.

And no matter how cute that bag is, lady, I'd appreciate it if you didn't swing it at my head as I'm trying to create another prelude on the spot. I've already played the four chords I know in 3 keys for 20 minutes, and frankly haven't had enought coffee to be brilliant in a hot room at 9 am. With your daughter bouncing against the small of my back. She's adorable, yes, but she's just killing me.

But even with all of that, me jumping the priest once or twice {let's get this show on the road, Man-Of-God! If the Lord didn't like speed, he would've given me a lude before I showed up this morning!} and the total omission of the baptismal rite {hey - I even knew how to play THAT one!} , I think it went well. I stayed out of the way enough that people could worship as they wanted to, had fun playing with D. and K. [now that's probably not a sentence I'd usually associate with church!], and even got a compliment on one of my cheezy little preludes. Ta da!

I've always gone to church, and have always felt pretty secure in that spiritual way, but I don't often go unless I have something musical to do. And I was raised Catholic, but have spent significant times in other demoninations and faiths. And i like most of them...I fall somewhere on the continuum between devout and don't-care, with the people who believe in being good to others, but don't subscribe to the my-way-or-the-highway rigidity. And i really like it if the people sing - that's the big issue for me. I'll come back if the music is well done and the congregation sings.

But now we are entering the post-penalty phase of Easter. The time when, because I have given up eating things with faces for the last 40 days, I can contemplate the purchase and ingestion of meat. I have no doubt that it will make me a little queasy, but I care not. I have been dreaming of bacon double cheeseburgers.

And yea, I say unto thee, this is the day of the risen Lord, the egg-carrying Bunny, and the bacon-double cheeseburger.
Amen, Alleluia!


moe said…
as a "straight-to-hell"er, i can tell you that the cards don't work but the bacon makes up for it. sorry i didn't get a chance to call you yesterday, but with dog fights, goo, tired monkeys and cooked cow, things were hectic.
i'll call you this week.

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