Jive Monkey Gold: The Name Game with Shakespeare

Here is a post that first appeared here on Jive To The Monkey last March -- an interview I conducted with the ghost of William Shakespeare:

Name Association With William Shakespeare

B-Dog: My guest today on Jive To The Monkey is Shakespeare. We're going to play the Name Association Game. I will say a name, and Mr. Shakespeare will pop off with the first comment that enters his brain. Are you ready, Will?

Will: I am.

B-Dog: But first, I have to ask. You've been dead now for awhile.

Will: Quite.

B-Dog: Heaven or hell?

Will: I'm not supposed to say.

B-Dog: Did the decision to let you through the pearly gates, or not, hinge on whether you really wrote all those plays, or whether you stole them from Christopher Marlowe or --

Will: Marlowe! Twit ....

B-Dog: Oh ... so we've already started the game. Well, how abo-

Will: Have you read Marlowe? Did you see what he did to Dr. Faustus?

B-Dog: Yes, I --

Will: Compared to Goethe's version? Do you suppose that I would have produced something inferior to that German pinhead?

B-Dog. I don't think it's necessarily inferior. And I'm starting to doubt how the person who wrote Hamlet could use words like "pinhead."

Will: A boot to the head! (Shakespeare kicks B-Dog out of his chair.)

B-Dog: Ow!

Will: Knave. Now let's proceed. I have croquet with Fanny Crosby at noon.

B-Dog: So you did make it to hea--

Will: Proceed!

B-Dog: Though I don't see how, what with all the violence and hostility.

Will: Do I get paid for this?

B-Dog: A coupon for a free Christmas ham. Lorie King didn't want hers from when she did the Paris interview.

Will: Now there's a girl with respect for language.

B-Dog: She reaks havoc upon people's self-esteem, always correcting their grammatical lapses.

Will: Someone needs to!

B-Dog: Okay. Well, what comes to your mind when I say "Will Wyman"?

Will: "Seizure later"? Please. Where did he grow up -- Marengo, Indiana?

B-Dog: Actually, yes.

Will: That's very telling.

B-Dog: Brian Laffin.

Will: Very punny. I enjoy a good pun.

B-Dog: Earnest Hemingway.

Will: Chap that blew his head off?

B-Dog: One of them.

Will: He wrote. Such short sentences. Some, mere fragments. Then he died.

B-Dog: Sarah Meador.

Will: I've got my eye on all those Frenchies.

B-Dog: Same here!

Will: If I've proven nothing, it is that the English language is all one needs.

B-Dog: Yes. Britney Spears.

Will: Boot to the head! (B-Dog goes down again. Shakespeare helps him up.)

B-Dog: Stop kicking me!

Will: This is the best blog ever about people kicking each other.

B-Dog: It's not about that! Stop it. Now ... Cheryl Rupp.

Will: Random.

B-Dog: Joel Anderson.

Will: Dangerously close to losing all ties with sanity.

B-Dog: Agreed. Bono.

Will: Irish dog. Has a way with words, though.

B-Dog: Yes. Well, that's all the time we have for now. Thanks for playing my word association game, Mr. Shakespeare. I know you need to be getting back home for your croquet match.

Will: Just kidding about that. I've never met her.

B-Dog: So you aren't necessarily in heaven! Which explains the hostility.

Will: It's not for mortals to know. But I'll be seeing you on the other side.

B-Dog: Huh? What did you mean by that? Am I ... am I ... hey, I'm washed in the blood of the Lamb, pal.

Will: Then you've got nothing to worry about. I'll see you shortly.

B-Dog: Shortly? What? What do you mean? What do you know? (Shakespeare vanishes, back to his place of eternal dwelling) Hey! What did you mean by that? I'm perfectly healthy! Hey! Come back here! Hey!

The End

Poetry Returns To Jive To The Monkey

I was asked in Lisa's blog (lisamcgary2005.blogspot.com) for an example of a great Billy Collins poem. It reminded me that it has been awhile since I've shared a poem with all my Monkey Maniacs here on Jive To The Monkey. So here's one:

Nostalgia, by Billy Collins

Remember the 1340's? We were doing a dance called the Catapult.
You always wore brown, the color craze of the decade,
and I was draped in one of those capes that were popular,
the ones with unicorns and pomegranates in needlework.
Everyone would pause for beer and onions in the afternoon,
and at night we would play a game called "Find the Cow."
Everything was hand-lettered then, not like today.

Where has the summer of 1572 gone? Brocade sonnet
marathons were the rage. We used to dress up in the flags
of rival baronies and conquer one another in cold rooms of
stone.
Out on the dance floor we were all doing the Struggle
while your sister practiced the Daphne all alone in her room.
We borrowed the jargon of farriers for our slang.
These days language seems transparent a badly broken code.

The 1790's will never come again. Childhood was big.
People would take walks to the very tops of hills
and write down what they saw in their journals without speaking.
Our collars were high and our hats were extremely soft.
We would surprise each other with alphabets made of twigs.
It was a wonderful time to be alive, or even dead.

I am very fond of the period between 1815 and 1821.
Europe trembled while we sat still for our portraits.
And I would love to return to 1901 if only for a moment,
time enough to wind up a music box and do a few dance steps,
or shoot me back to 1922 or 1941, or at least let me
recapture the serenity of last month when we picked
berries and glided through afternoons in a canoe.

Even this morning would be an improvement over the present.
I was in the garden then, surrounded by the hum of bees
and the Latin names of flowers, watching the early light
flash off the slanted windows of the greenhouse
and silver the limbs on the rows of dark hemlocks.

As usual, I was thinking about the moments of the past,
letting my memory rush over them like water
rushing over the stones on the bottom of a stream.
I was even thinking a little about the future, that place
where people are doing a dance we cannot imagine,
a dance whose name we can only guess.

What do you think?

P.S. For a nice selection of Billy Collins' poems, look in the July archive of Laura Beth's blog: laurabethonan.blogspot.com

New Interview With Rabby

Bobby: Hello, all you Monkey Maniacs out there in cyber world. Today on Jive To The Monkey, my guest is one Earl P. Rabbit, otherwise known as Rabby.

Rabby: Used to be I'd a smacked you over the head fer not havin' any food fer me in my dressin' room afore I came out here fer this inter, int, inte -- afore we could talk.

Bobby: But you don't do that kind of thing anymore because of your conversion.

Rabby: Cuz I been warshed in the blood a the lamb. Let's call it wut it is. Let's not have no big werds that don't really let you in on the deal, you know? I ain't jest changed my mind from Coke to Pepsi or somethin'. I been warshed in that precious blood, surrendered my life to that name that is above all names.

Bobby: And you have been open about your struggles since coming to the Lord.

Rabby: That's right. Cuz we are called to bear one another's burdens an to confess an all to each other. An how come I hardly ever see any Christians doin' that?

Bobby: It is a failing of the Church.

Rabby: Yer darn tootin' right it is!

Bobby: So anyway, before coming to Christ you were quite a boozer.

Rabby: Tar-and-tarnation! Is that any kind of segu, seg, seg -- is that a way to switch from one topic to the next?

Bobby: Well, I just --

Rabby: I had me an awful lot a trouble with the demon juice. That's wut I call it now. Cuz Lord knows I git sideways when I git into the cups. And that's when all the trouble with the womens starts. All those womens ....

Bobby: So what happened over the holidays?

Rabby: Well I was out at a party an there wuz Christians drinkin' so I says "Earl," that's wut I calls myself is Earl, "Earl, they is Christians and they're drinkin'. So is you is or is you ain't a Christian too?" An a course I is, so I got me some spirits an next thing I know'd I woke up under the bridge with the werst hangover I ever did have.

Bobby: Wow.

Rabby: So's I said, "Earl, you can't handle it." Now I don't judge Christians who do, but I am not in the number a those who kin drink in moder, mod, mod --

Bobby: Moderation.

Rabby: That too. An so's I checked into the clinic an got all straightened out an went through the program. An now it's jest me an Jesus, an I got me that new wine in my soul. I don't need none a that earthly stuff.

Bobby: Fair enough. So what's this about dating advice?

Rabby: That's wut my blog is now. Datin' advice from me, Earl P. Rabbit, otherwise known as Rabby.

Bobby: But, pardon the directness: wouldn't that be sort of like learning manners from Hitler?

Rabby: TAR-AND-TARNATION!

Bobby: Just saying ...

Rabby: Well let me spell it out fer ya. I made ever kind a mistake a person kin make --

Bobby: That's what I meant.

Rabby: No sassin'! Now as I wuz sayin', I figure I am good fer gettin' advice from cuz I got it all figured out. See, I done found the way to go because I already tried ever other way.

Bobby: So you've discovered the secret to love by process of elimination.

Rabby: I don't even understand wut you jest said.

Bobby: Never mind. I think the Monkey Maniacs will get it.

Rabby: An another thing is, afore I turned to the Lord, I wuz the orneriest thing this side of a Anderson. I wuz always tryin' to fool the womens an git their hopes up an all. So nows I know how to spot that kind of guy, an I kin make amends fer my past by warning all the womens about guys like wut I used to be.

Bobby: So you see this as an important social service.

Rabby: Fer the womens.

Bobby: Ok. Let's close this interview with name association. I'll say some names, and you say the first thing that pops into your mind. Cheryl Rupp.

Rabby: Nice air-conditioned blog.

Bobby: Nikki Daniel.

Rabby: Pretends I don't exist but still okay I guess.

Bobby: Jason Ramage.

Rabby: Crazy as a coon-skin hat sittin' on a clown's head.

Bobby: Lorie King.

Rabby: Smells nice.

Bobby: Tom Branch

Rabby: Tom an me is frends.

Bobby: Christine Hnat.

Rabby: Like one a them models but not sleazy an all.

Bobby: Will Wyman.

Rabby: A good man but prone to tell lies about me.

Bobby: Christa Webb.

Rabby: Wuz kind to me when King kidnapped me.

Bobby: Laura Roberts.

Rabby: Has a hot stuffed animal.

Bobby: That's just weird, man.

Rabby: I calls 'em as I sees 'em.

Bobby. Okay. One more. Garth Brooks.

Rabby: You found out me an Garth is frends?

Bobby: I did some investigating.

Rabby: Well, let me close with singin' you a chorus that me an Garth wrote together. Little country number:

It's jest my feet
That want you back.
They always seem to make tracks
To your door.
It's jest my fingers
That dial yer number,
Girl, my heart doesn't want you anymore.

Bobby: That's impressive. Come back anytime.

Rabby: Bye now.

THE SURREAL END

Sojourn Worship Songwriting Workshop, pt. 9

We had six writers at the songwriting workshop this past Saturday. That's our overall average so far, although we've had a total of 13 come to at least one. We had nine in December -- I knew we'd lose some this time because of the Sojourn partners' meeting that was held from 9 to 11:30 that morning, so I was happy we had six.

Jay had presented a first draft of a song called "From These Hands" in December. He'd received some good advice then from Eddy and Chandi regarding the music -- streamlining it, cutting down on the interludes between lines, stuff like that. He'd also written some lines that didn't quite fit the meter -- too many words crammed in too little space. He worked on all that stuff and presented the song again yesterday. It's really good. He still needs to decide some stuff about the bridge. Jeremy suggested that, although there are some good lines in the bridge, it might not be necessary to have lyrics there at all -- it might be better just to have music there. Jay's going to play around with it some more.

He also played us a rewrite of the song he'd done back in the September workshop. He's tightened it up a lot and made it a very catchy pop worship song, although he still has some parts to finish.

Lorie played the two songs she's written solo recently (she's co-written a couple handfuls with me). On "All Things New" we had Jeremy strum guitar rather than have Lorie play keyboard. He played around with some of the chords and made it sound more "finished." We also felt that the second verse should have at least one end-rhyme (right now it's A-B-C-D). I pointed out that doing so would make it conform to the pattern of the first verse (A-B-C-B). Jeremy suggested a way to change the second line of the second verse so that it rhymed with the fourth line, so she may plug that in there and see how it sits with her.

We were divided as to the effectiveness of the lyrics in the bridge -- whether they were too "inside/ church-ish" in comparison with the more "street-level" lyrics of the rest of the song. This is always a difficult choice. You don't want to needlessly confuse people or become so obtuse that only theologians can grasp your points, but on the other hand, we shouldn't just give up in the face of the overwhelming Biblical illiteracy that plagues this country. Paul said to "teach and admonish" each other with psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. I'm not sure what she's going to decide in this particular instance, but I know she isn't one for dumbing-down standards.


I played a hymn I'd written -- old-school hymn/ folk ballad style -- four verses, no chorus, all in iambic tetrameter (like He Leadeth Me or In Christ Alone). You'll find the rough draft of these lyrics in my January 6th blog column, "Hope." They suggested a few line edits that I am now working on.

There was one word that, admittedly, didn't make much sense but I'd left it in there because it fit the meter. I was being lazy, hoping no one would notice. Predictably, my she-devil sister Lorie noticed and brought it to everyone's attention -- it's the word "created" in the line "from heaven to created ground." Of course, everything, including heaven, is created, so it's a needless word in this context. I was stuck on what to plug into it's place though. I think I've decided to change from an iambic to a trochaic line, though, so it reads "from the heavens to the ground." This only gives me seven syllables (one short of iambic tetrameter) but the change from iamb to trochee will mean the missing syllable won't be missed.

What I mean is, iambs are two-syllable units with an emphasis on the second syllable. Trochees are two-syllable units with an emphasis on the first. So, comparing the two lines, with the stresses as you would naturally sing them:

From HEAven TO creAted GROUND
FROM the HEAvens TO the GROUND

You see what I mean? When singing, you'll put stronger emphasis on the syllables that I've capitalized.

Jeremy also took a copy home because he has some ideas for chords -- the melody would essentially be the same but the chords would be more interesting. So I'll see what he comes up with.

Eddy and Chad couldn't make it but they told me Saturday morning that they've been working on some lyrics I gave to Eddy a couple weeks ago. They've laid some tracks down on it as a demo in Eddy's studio. It was another hymn-metered lyric I'd written, three verses but with an unmetered chorus. They've come up with a melody and played around with the structure. These guys are much better musicians than I am, so I'm very interested in what they've come up with. Hopefully I'll get to hear it soon.

Christa sang an acapella number -- a revision of some lyrics that she'd began some time ago. It has a beautiful melody. She said the original version was "too Disney" but she's obviously worked past that. This song would work well as a call to worship, a prayer-song or meditation piece. Stylistically, it has elements of the Lutheran Chorale-type hymn, which is in itself a derivation, and elaboration of plainsong (otherwise known as Gregorian chant) and other styles from the Middle Ages. Her song works, dramatically, as a solo acapella piece, but it would also be interesting to hear it done as a trio, quartet, or choir piece, with or without a band.

The next workshop is February 18, so between now and then I've got more writing to do. For this, I'll need coffee. Which I'm going to get right now, so goodbye.

One Crunchy Burger

Back in my teen years, my church friends and I hung out at Burger King after every evening worship service (we met Sunday nights and mid-week, in addition to Sunday mornings). One of my friends was a big ol' boy named Philip -- a construction worker who graduated high school when I was a sophomore and went straight to the workforce.

His standard mode of operation was to order two Whoppers -- one to eat as we hung out, and one to take to work the next day. He also used plastic soft drink lids for holding ketchup, rather than those dinky little ketchup holders you see in most fast food restaurants.

This gave our friend Adam an idea. One time when Philip went up to get a soft drink refill, Adam quickly snuck a plastic soft drink lid into Philip's "tomorrow" Whopper. Plastic soft drink lids fit perfectly between the beef and the bun (just so you know).

A few nights later, when we were gathered there again, Philip said, as calmly as if he were discussing the weather, "I had an interesting burger the other day." Then we all nearly died laughing. Turns out the big guy had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. He'd bit into the burger, noticed something "wrong" about it, but continued trying to bite through it, eventually pulling the lid, and half the dressing, out with his teeth.

Five points to anyone who can recreate this prank with their friends. Share your success story with me here on Jive To The Monkey.

MonkeyManiacs: this is your mission, should you choose to accept it. Go team, go!

Happiness is when ...

... your son's legs are finally long enough for you to be able to put him in the figure four leglock when you're wrestling with him.

Wooooooooo!

Jive Monkey Gold: My Friends As Musical Instruments

Here's a Jive Monkey Gold post from last year that everyone seemed to enjoy:

My Friends As Music Instruments

If a sampling of my friends (who are known to check out this blog)were musical instruments, these are the instruments they'd be.

Nature Boy Jason Hall: Rhythm Guitar. Because no matter what craziness you have to put up with, you keep a steady rhythm. But you can also plunk out a funky tune.

Nikki: Ukulele. Folksy, homespun, yet exotic at the same time. Weird yet soothing. And tiny.

Cheryl: Mandolin. Capable of such goofy, lighthearted babbling, but can add significant depth to a piece when the occasion warrants it.

Joel The Metro: Saxophone. Sometimes smooth and chillin', but with a wicked bite that you have to watch out for. Plays a variety of styles from marches to blues.

Amanda: Drums. Your opinions are straightforward, uncompromising -- nothing subtle about your instrumentation. And those who cross you --- BOOM, CLANG, GONG!

Lorie: Violin/ fiddle. A sophisticated, difficult to master, very nuanced instrument that can also be as simple as a reel or jig. Equally at home in the Paris Opera or Uncle Elmer's barn dance.

Will: Banjo. Sometimes a bit ornery, and a real bear to keep in tune, but also as smooth as summertime, a front porch swing, and lemonade.

Dr. Tom: Bagpipes. A plethora of complexities. Can comfort the mourners or send the warriors into battle. But mostly it just reminds me of your kilt.

Rachael who never posts on my blog but visits: Flute. Light, gentle, and airy. A peacemaker.

Sarah: Piano. Capable of being a one-person orchestra, holding down bass and treble lines, yet also can be a complimentary part of nearly any kind of band.

Pinhead Stacey: Lead guitar. Loud, piercing, full of brass and vigor. Stands out and cuts through the noise. But can also calm the distressed. And yours goes to eleven.

For anyone interesting in any kind of song writing

Check out this:

http://www.guitarnoise.com/article.php?id=288

You'll find plenty of good guidelines for writing songs, as well as for giving and receiving critiques.

"Dinner With Friends"

One often-overlooked aspect of the impact divorce has on all involved is the impact it has on mutual friends. Donald Marguilies, one of America's best contemporary playwrights, wrote a play a few years ago called "Dinner With Friends" that explored this situation. It was performed locally at Actors Theatre of Louisville and went on to win a Pulitzer. It also became a great HBO film a couple years ago.
The play involves four best friends -- two couples. One couple is getting a divorce. The man, Tom, has been having an affair with a stewardess, and has decided to leave his wife for the woman. In this snippet of dialogue, he has just told his friend Gabe that he was miserable throughout the entire marriage:

Tom: Well sure. But, honestly? Most of the time I was just being a good sport.

Gabe: A good sport?!

Tom: You know what I mean ...

Gabe: Wait a minute. You were faking it?! You mean to tell me that all those years -- all those years, Tom! -- the four of us together, raising our kids together, the dinners, the vacations, the hours of videotape, you were just being a good sport?

Tom: No ...

Gabe: Then what, Tom, I don't get it. I was there, as well as you. This misery you describe, the agony. Gee, I thought we were all just living our lives, you know? Sharing our humdrum little existences. I thought you were there, wholeheartedly there. And now you're saying you had an eye on the clock and a foot out the door?

Tom: You've got to stop taking this so personally.

Gabe: How would you take it? You say you were wasting your life, that's what you said.

Tom: I don't mean you and Karen. I don't mean you, I'd never mean you; you're my best friend, I've got to be able to say this stuff to you. I'm talking about my marriage.

Gabe: But it's not that simple, Tom. We were there. Karen and Danny and Isaac and I, we were all there, we were all a big part of that terrible life you had to get the hell away from. Isaac's totally freaked out by this, by the way.

...

Tom: I just want you to be my friend. That's all. I want you to be happy for me.

...

Gabe: We had a vow too, you know, not a marriage but something like it.

Tom: Yeah?

Gabe: We were supposed to get old and fat together, the four of us, and watch each others' kids grow up, and cry together at their weddings ...

Tom: It's not like I'm dead, you know ...

Gabe: I guess I mean, I thought we were in this together. You know? For life.

Tom: Isn't that just another way of saying misery loves company?

It's all there -- the confusion, the refusal to admit (on Tom's part) that he's done wrong -- instead it's just his right to be happy. And of course Gabe is being selfish -- it's all about him. But I think there is more to it than that -- or at least that Gabe isn't entirely wrong to make this about him, and his relationship to his own wife. You get that sense as you watch the play that the breakup of their friends' marriage has a scary effect on Gabe and Karen. They will have to cling to each other more closely, and answer questions about the strength of their own union.

Meanwhile, Karen has some of the same issues with Beth -- a woman who has been cheated on, but, as it turns out, had an affair of her own several years ago, and has now taken up with the guy again. This is a fact that Karen and Gabe discover accidentally. They discuss it:

Karen: I thought it seemed a little too convenient, her white knight surfacing all of a sudden. Why didn't she ever tell me? Who would she have confided in if not me?

Gabe: People don't usually go around discussing their affairs, do they? Otherwise they wouldn't be affairs.

Karen: She could've told me this afternoon.

Gabe: How could she? She's spent all these months portraying herself as the wronged woman. Her credibility would've been shot to hell.

Karen: What does this say about our friendship? What were all those years about?

And of course Karen is right. SHE has been cheated on, as a friend. But don't we all do this? I don't mean to say we all have affairs, but we all hold back little bits of ourselves. We refuse to be authentic and honest in ALL of our relationships. And the decay of one relationship can have a chilling effect on every other one, as the people who thought they knew us best realize that they didn't know us as well as they thought they did -- that we didn't trust them as much as they thought we did.

Watch this movie/ play. Read the script. It's very insightful.

Sojourn Worship Songwriting Workshop, part 8

Nine writers came to our December meeting. We kept all six from the November workshop. Jay Eubanks, who had been to the first workshop and who has a wealth of writing and performing experience, rejoined us. Eddy Morris, a writer/ musician who owns a recording studio (Ear Candy Recording Studio) came for the first time, as did Morgan Shaffer, a recent transplant to Louisville from Louisiana. Morgan has been playing piano and leading worship for years. She had responded to my post on the sojourncommunity.com website about the songwriting workshop because she wanted to check out the process and see if writing was for her.

Jay played a new song he'd written called "From These Hands." It had three verses, a chorus and a bridge, and contained some very strong lyrics. I think he got some good advice for the song. Chandi and Eddy both think of things that I wouldn't think of -- or at least wouldn't know how to voice. Musical things. I can play a bit of guitar and harmonica, I know some piano chords, and I had a music theory class back in high school, but my knowledge of music is fairly limited. I'm more of a lyric guy. It's great to have people in the group who are strong where I am weak.

Eddy had written a song that was so catchy that I'm still humming it to myself. It had two verses, and he wasn't satisfied with the second. We spent some time working it over, and I think we came up with a couple lines. The last two lines of the chorus were more problematic. We were all pitching different samples. In the end, I think he wrote down a suggested lyric for the last line that goes "shake your boodie for the King."

Not that he'll leave that in there. After hitting our heads against a creative brick wall for awhile, we writers can get a little goofy. Anyway, that line fit the meter so eventually he'll find something of the same length that is, uh, reverent.

I came to this workshop in the midst of a bout of sinusitis. I could barely breathe, let alone sing -- which was particularly bad because I was supposed to sing a humerous song I'd written for my office holiday party that night. I wanted to save my voice, so for my song I just played the CD Chad had recorded for me, the one with the music he'd written for my hymn "Precious Jesus, Lord of All" (see the lyrics/ discussion of this song on pt. 6 of this series).

Everyone liked it. Maybe I'll have Chad sing for me all the time, because he could make anything sound good. He had recorded it in G. Eddy suggested lowering it to D and slowing the tempo down a little -- I think mainly he wanted to hear what it would sound like with Lorie singing lead. We tried that -- Chad on guitar, Eddy on the keyboard, and Lorie singing lead. Then we had everyone sing along, and we tried Chad singing lead in the lower register. It all sounded great. There is nothing like hearing your song done by talented people.

Someone, maybe Chad, played the song for Mike Cosper recently. He told me it sounded great and the worship team at Sojourn would work it up eventually to do in church.

There were some other interesting songs at the workshop. Will Kottheimer played an ambitious ballad called "Jericho." Will is new to song writing, but he's been diving into it fearlessly. I told him that he's already discovered the best way to improve as a writer -- to write. Simply to write, over and over, song after song.

Chandi played an interesting, unique piece -- quite different for Sojourn. It would work as a benediction or some other kind of prayer-song ... a meditative piece. It was very polished. One great way to describe her music would be "classy."

Lorie played the song she'd presented at the November workshop -- tweaked a little bit. It still needed something -- she thought maybe another verse. I think everyone concurred -- a first verse. The verse she already had seemed more like a second verse. The song contained a bridge and chorus as well -- good lines, as I mentioned in part 6 of this series.

This isn't unusual at all -- to write a verse that turns out to be your second, and then have to go back and write the first verse. At least it's not unusual for me -- I don't know how many times I've started writing a song at the verse, or a chorus followed by a verse, and then ended up realizing I'd jumped in the middle of the song ... that the verse is good, but as a second verse rather than the first.

Anyway, she said she'd work on a new verse for next time.

For any locals who are interested, our next Sojourn worship song workshop is this Saturday the 21st, at 2 pm. Email me for more info at iambictreat@yahoo.com.

Be what you should be, where you are

From James W. Sire, "Chris Chrisman Goes To College:"

"The public face of Christianity has not been seen much. Christians are, of course, everywhere. From the high reaches of public office o the boardrooms of major corporations, from the exalted sphere of star professors to the laboratories of top research institutes, from natural science to social science to the humanities, from the fields of wheat to the shop floors of automotive manufacturers: Chrstians have permeated every field. But where is the evidence of their presence? As Guinness says, 'It's not that [Christians] are not where they should be, but that they aren't what they should be where they are.'

This then is the challenge of our age: to be what we should be where we are! To put a public face on Christianity, to be a light set on a hill, to be, as Lesslie Newbigin says, a sign, an instrument and a foretaste of God's sovereignty over all the nations, over every realm of life."

Sojourn Worship Songwriting Workshop, pt 7

Proverbs 11:14 " ... in abundance of counselors there is victory."

"Community" is a concept that many in the modern arts world disdain, prefering the image of the lone, struggling, tortured artist, the strange genius whom mere mortals cannot understand. This is an anti-Christian concept, and one that makes little sense from a historical perspective. It's an image we fight in the workshop, as well as one that Sojourn fights as a whole.

As our pastor, Daniel Montgomery (who, when he calls me, says, "This is Daniel, Your Friendly Pastor") has often said, "Real relationships are messy." Because of this truism, it is often easier to avoid community. But doing so means saying "No" to growth.

Rory Noland writes, in "The Heart Of The Artist:"

I've always been fascinated by the artist colonies that emerge around major artistic movements. My favorite example is Paris in the early 1900s, a place where artists congregated and fed off each other ....

My favorite composer, Igor Stravinsky, was part of this infamous colony of artists, and his circle of friends included fellow composers Claude Debussy, Maurice Ravel, Erik Satie, and Manuel de Falla. It was a time when the arts overlapped in exciting ways as Stravinsky rubbed shoulders with artists like Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse, and Jean Cocteau. This group wasn't without its disagreements and jealousies, but the artists were friends. They'd go to concerts and art galleries together. They'd get together in each other's homes and talk long into the night about music, art, and literature. On one occasion Stravinsky sat down with Debussy at the piano, and they played through a transcription of an orchestra piece Stravinsky was developing. It just happened to be "The Rite Of Spring", one of the landmark masterpieces of the twentieth century! I wish I could have been a fly on the wall ....

Getting artists who are basically ... independent to function as a team is no easy task. Like many artists who are thrown together with others on a team, Igor Stravinsky had to learn how to function as a team player. Howard Gardner, in his book "Creating Minds," points out that when Stravinsky was asked to join the Ballets Russes, it changed his life overnight. "Stravinsky became a valued member of what was possibly the most innovative perfoming artistic group in the world .... Now instead of working mostly alone, Stravinsky had almost daily intercourse with the ensemble ...

My prefered response, when I play a new piece for the group, is "Wow. That's perfect just the way it is. Don't change a thing."

That typically doesn't happen. In fact, going back to the September workshop, I remember doing a song called "Prophet, Priest, and King" that, in the context of a praise song, describes the different offices of Jesus. After I finished, Jeremy Quillo uttered those words every songwriter longs to hear: "This is a great song." Then after pausing, he said, "Or at least it's going to be." Then he mentioned a couple things I might want to consider changing. Then the others chimed in. This was one of my better-received songs; I could tell people were generally excited about it. However, I must admit that when they were all done, my first thought after considering all the changes recommended was, "If this is how much rewriting they want me to do on a song they think is great, imagine how much work they'd want me to do on a song they DIDN'T like." (But typically, songs that are seen as having potential will receive more critical analysis, attention, and ideas for improvement. If a song just isn't very good, there isn't much to work with.)

Their main point with the song was the lack of melodic development in the verses. I'd lived with the song for so long, though, that it was hard for me to think of ways to spice up the melody. I ended up turning it over to Mike Cosper, a far more capable musician than I am, to see if he could work his magic.

Of course, critiques involve subjectivity in a way that, say, math equations do not. An artist needs to develop his or her ability to evaluate the critism received in a non-defensive manner, and to decide where to go. I'm not going to change everything everyone wants me to change, but I do consider each piece of advice carefully.

We almost didn't have a December meeting. I wasn't sure if anyone would come, since we were in the middle of the holiday season. But we decided we might as well be "open for business," even if there were only two or three of us. It turns out we had nine, our biggest group to date ....

TO BE CONTINUED

Character

Eph. 5:33 However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.

This verse and those that proceed it are clear, yet I do think we can run afoul of this command by undermining it long before we have found the "right" one and tied the knot, even when we would never do so intentionally. We do this when we think that our behaviour will magically change when we find Mr. or Mrs. Right.

I contend that we must keep to the basic principle of this verse in ALL our dealings with the opposite sex. Now obviously every Godly person knows to treat their significant other as their crowning jewel, not as someone who is equal to all others, or any others. But let me illustrate it like this:

Girls, if you've met a guy that treats you like a queen, holds the door for you, listens and smiles when you're telling a story, encourages and compliments you, and in general seems to be very protective of you and kind to you, yet he never acts this way toward his female friends, his mom, his sister, and other ladies, then what do you think the chances are that he'll continue to act this way with you once the "honeymoon" period is over?

Slim to none. It's not an ingrained part of his character. It's easy to "rise above" yourself when you're in the midst of infatuation, but when that wears off, your true character will shine through. Yet from time to time I've heard people say, "Well, I may be a little hard to get along with, but I won't be that way with my future wife. I'm different when I'm in a relationship with someone."

Uh huh.

It works both ways, too. A disrespectful or argumentative woman, despite her assurances to the contrary, will not act differently towards her beloved. In fact, she will probably give him a HARDER way to go, over time, because when you live with someone, share a checkbook with someone, coordinate chores with someone, put up with someone's sleep-depriving, hacking, coughing colds and clean up someone's vomit when they're sick to their stomach, it tends to create an environment that is extremely raw and real, as opposed to the often "fake" world of dating (and yes, I mean "courting" too, Harris fans).

Men should therefore cultivate, through prayer and discipline, an attitude that regards every woman as special, as someone to be cherished and protected. Women should treat men that she is in the company of with Godly respect (I realize many of these things could be posts in their own right -- obviously many people, especially guys, act as if "respect" is a far more encompassing trait than it is, really amounting to "Be my slave," but I'm writing to people who know better).

Think of it like this: if you know that you're going to compete in a physically-demanding sporting event sometime down the road, you had better start a fitness regimen immediately. If you were to say, "I'm just going to eat my Ho Ho's and watch reruns of Saved By The Bell until the game is almost here," then what chances do you really think you'd have of excelling on game day?

Be ready all the time. Many people have no trouble with this concept, when it applies to things like staying in physical shape, or dressing sharp when you're going out in public, or being able to float around a crowded room and turn on the charm, but they can't seem to understand that character requires training, too.

And the flip side to this advice is to look for a mate whom you know to be the kind of person who will carry out the command of Ephesians 5:33 because you've witnessed it for yourself, not only in his/ her dealings with you but in their dealings with the opposite sex in general.

And that's all I have to say about that. Now, go forth and prosper. And as always, stay jive to that monkey on your back.

Sage Words From The Screwtape Letters

Here's C.S. Lewis on humility, from "The Screwtape Letters" (a book composed of fictional letters from a demon to one of his apprentices, advising how to keep a Christian from living out his calling):

You must therefore conceal from the patient the true end of Humility. Let him think of it, not as self-forgetfullness, but as a certain kind of opinion (namely, a low opinion) of his own talents and character. Some talents, I gather, he really has. Fix in his mind the idea that humility consists in trying to believe those talents to be less valuable than he believes them to be ...
The great thing is to make him value an opinion for some quality other than truth, thus introducing an element of dishonesty and make-believe into the heart of what otherwise threatens to become a virtue. By this method thousands of humans have been brought to think that humility means pretty women trying to believe they are ugly and clever men trying to believe they are fools. And since what they are trying to believe may, in some cases, be manifest nonsense, they cannot succeed in believing it, and we have the chance of keeping their minds endlessly revolving on themselves in an effort to achieve the impossible.

How about those apples?

Sojourn Worship Songwriting Workshop, pt. 6

The November workshop brought several firsts: it was our first time to meet on a Saturday, and our first time to meet outside of the Highland Christian Fellowship facilities where Sojourn meets for weekly worship.

We met in Lorie's home and gained the participation of her room-mate Christa. Christa has a great, timeless voice -- the kind that can sing pop songs, jazz standards or old show tunes. She's written some good poems, too, and unlike a lot of artists I've known in the past, has a servant heart. She reminds me of this quote from Rory Noland: "In Nehemiah's day the musicians were in charge of maintenance for the house of God (Neh. 11:22-23). These janitors-by-day/ artists-by-night had a strict, disciplined, daily routine that included doing the custodial work needed for the upkeep of God's house. They were servant artists, and that's what we need to be." Christa is always serving, whether it's mentoring students in her church youth group, running the sound system, or just doing grunt-work around the house she shares with the other girls.

Several other first-timers came as well. I had exchanged some emails with Chad Lewis, giving him ideas for polishing some of his original songs for his upcoming CD project. I've mentioned his rich, powerful voice before in this series. Another thing about Chad is that he's a balladeer, in the original sense of the word. Our culture has come to think of ballads as slow love songs. Whenever we hear something that sounds like it's going to end up on "Delilah After Dark" in the end, we think, "Oh, that's a ballad." And of course, a slow song with heavy guitar is a "power ballad."

A ballad is actually a story song. It's an element of folk music, a remnant of the days when traveling minstrels would entertain at an Inn, singing stories of loves lost and won in far off lands. Chad tells stories in his songs, as do I. That's where we're kindred spirits. Many of our songs are visual -- you can see the MTV video as you hear the lyrics.

Anyway, I had told Chad about our worship writing workshops. He hadn't written many worship songs, but he was interested in coming so I gave him directions. We had two other first timers: Will Kottheimer and Chandi Plummer. Will is an amateur film-maker who had written one or two songs and was looking for advice, inspiration, and community with other writers. He has keen insights too, the kind that can really help a writer when he's seeking critiques.

Chandi has an extensive music background, both in voice and piano. She is steeped in Church music -- hymns, benedictions, you name it. She brings a unique perspective in that her advice usually centers around the music -- the melody, the rhythm, things of that nature. She appreciates a good lyric but her main knack is for pointing out different ways of making the song "click" musically. I've learned a lot from her comments.

Chandi has her own style, and she often writes things that no one else in our group writes. For the November meeting, she played a song she'd composed for children's worship. Pretty good -- not condescending (as songs written for kids can sometimes be).

All six participants shared songs at the November meeting. This isn't always the case. Sometimes people will simply audit the workshop -- they want to see what we're all about and get a glimpse into the process, to see if worship songwriting is something they could do. Other times, writers will come to hear what their colleagues are doing, and to offer critiques, even if they don't have any new songs to present to the group themselves. This is welcome, and in fact is something I encourage. Many times, workshops fail because no one is concerned about doing anything but having forum to do their stuff. In fact, I've participated in online poetry and fiction workshops that had instituted rules such as "You can't submit your own piece for review until you've critiqued five other pieces." We've been blessed to have not had to deal with situations like that. Everyone wants to help the others grow.

This was a cool month for me because it was the first month that my buddy, my cohort, my partner-in-crime Lorie presented a complete song -- words and music -- that she'd written alone. It was called "All Things New," and had some very good lines in it. It is very rewarding to watch someone develop and start climbing the ladder, start doing something they've never done before. Lorie has a ton of experience singing and leading worship, along with a Masters in Worship from SBTS, and she plays piano. She's also very much a wordsmith, so she had all the necessary tools to become a songwriter. Just needed to develop them.

I showed the group a modern hymn I'd written called "Precious Jesus, Lord of All." It's written in "8-7" meter (refering to the number of syllables on alternating lines), which, although not one of the most common hymn meters, shows up in quite a few good hymns, including "My Redeemer," "I Surrender All," and "There Shall Be Showers Of Blessing."

There is another old song with a similar meter -- I think it's called "He's The Oak And I'm The Ivy." I've never heard it, but I saw the lyrics in a hymnal years ago, in my childhood, and I had developed a melody for it way back then. I saw that the melody would fit for my new song, even though I wasn't crazy about how well it worked together with my lyrics to convey emotion. There is a difference between something that fits metrically and something that fits psychologically or emotionally. But I wanted to have a song to present to the group, so I used that melody. I told them if anyone wanted to collaborate with me on this and come up with their own melody, they were welcome to it. The lyrics (including a chorus with a different metrical scheme) were:

Jesus, more than lowly servant. More than teacher of the law.
More than sacrificial hero. Nothing less than lord of all.
Three days gone inside a cavern, sealed in with a heavy stone.
By his death made sinners welcome to the altar of God’s throne.

(chorus)
Lord of all. Lord of all. Precious Jesus, Lord of all.
Lord of all. Lord of all. Precious Jesus, Lord, Lord of all.

Body raised on Easter morning. Seen by friends for forty days.
Hundreds marveled as he taught them. Proved his claim over the grave.
Servant-teacher, hero risen -- God Who Saves and God Who Reigns.
Ascended to the clouds of heaven just as He had preordained.

Repeat Chorus


Surer than each morning’s sunrise is Messiah’s glad return.
Vainly will His foes assemble; vainly will the devil run.
Jesus and the saints of heaven will crush the forces of decay.
Then, an everlasting kingdom. Perfect love and endless day.


Repeat Chorus

Chad took up the challenge, and the very next evening presented me with a CD recording he'd made, just himself and his guitar, with a new melody. I played it for everyone at the December workshop, which was our most well-attended meeting to that point ....

TO BE CONTINUED

Jive Monkey Gold: I Love To Tell The Story

I will return soon with another installment of the Sojourn Worship Songwriting Workshop story, but for now here's some Jive Monkey gold, first printed here last April. It's pertinent to worship writers, as well as to ALL Christians:

... and there arose another generation after them who did not know theLORD, nor yet the work which He had done for Israel.Judges 2:10b

A lady I used to work with, Darla, lost her father the Thursday before Easter of 2004. I talked with another coworker, Sarah, about it the next day. Sarah is a 25 year old, unchurched woman with the postmodern outlook one would expect from such a person. She said, "Can you imagine? Easter is probably going to be ruined forever for Darla because of this." I reminded her that Darla is a Christian, so in the years to come, the proximity of her father's death to Easter will probably be a comfort to her.

Sarah, who thinks of Easter as the bunny & chocolate holiday, had no idea why, so of course I explained it to her. I discovered along the way that she had no idea Christians claim that Jesus rose bodily from the dead (she assumed he went to heaven "the regular way,"), that the Sanhedrin couldn't find the body so they claimed the disciples stole it ("so it's like a mystery!" she said), and she was confused as to how Bible characters related to each other. She asked where Moses was while all this "Passion stuff" was going on, and about where Adam, Eve, and Noah came in.

To those of us raised in a church environment, this kind of Biblical illiteracy seems stunning, but Sarah is in many ways representative of millions of people from emerging generations.They've grown up in a world that has lost its sense of Story -- the Grand Story, the Story of God and man. Their parents and grandparents rejected the idea that life has meaning (throwing out "plot") and that the meaning is determined by our Creator(throwing out the Storyteller).

Now, if they have any positive thoughts on the Bible at all, it is of an anthology of disjointed episodes without a larger context, a collection of "points to ponder", or a self-help manual ("Three easy steps to a whole-new-you") broken down into verse form for quick reference. But the Grand Story framework is gone, and with it, the ability to show them how their individual story intersects with God's Story, filling their previously plotless narratives with meaning. And little wonder that they don't want a Savior when they don't understand why they would need to be saved, or what they're being saved from.

As Christians, let's tell our Story every chance we get. Let's earn the right to tell it by the honesty of our lives, and when they ask, let's give it to them. Our lives are each a subplot in the universal story, and the journey of each Christian mirrors the Biblical story from Fall to redemption to mission, and, at last, to victory. Do many from emerging generations lack a sense of self-worth? Do they question "what's the point of it all?" Do they feel as if life has no purpose or meaning, that they have no special mission? Yes. Do they, and all humans, crave purpose, meaning, and a sense of mission? Yes again. And they can find it all in the old, old story....

"I love to tell the story, for some have never heard
The message of salvation from God's own Holy Word."

Hope

Sometimes I think we can live as those without hope do. We become so pessimistic, so "down on life," that it can be difficult for others to see Christ in us. Do we have problems? Of course. Does the world have problems? You bet. Will we and the world continue to have problems until Christ's return? Sure.

But we win. Christ won the victory over sin at Calvary. Satan is a cornered, wounded animal -- desperate and vicious, running out of time. Dangerous, to be sure, but he knows his days are numbered. We need to keep telling each other, and the world, this story. Instead of complaining, along with those without hope, of what this world is coming to, lets remind them of what has come into the world.

I believe in the mustard seed that grows into the greatest of trees. I believe in Ezekial's rising tide. I believe in a crucified God and an empty tomb. I believe in John's vision, the revelation of the Christ.

Since we've been on the subject of songwriting, here's one I've recently written along the lines of this post. I wrote it in Long Verse, which means each line is in iambic tetrameter -- 4 iambs (8 syllables) per line. It's just four verses, no chorus, like many old English hymns. It hasn't been workshopped yet so it may not be "finished."

The rising tide, the Spirit’s strength,
The power of the perfect King
Sweeps through the earth, subdues the strong,
Erases death’s cruel, mocking sting.
God entered Time, came as a babe,
Became a man, cast Satan down.
Watched as he fell like lightening
From heaven to created ground.

What Satan thought was victory
Became the means of his defeat.
The Lord, by dying on the cross,
Crushed Satan’s head beneath His feet.
And after rising from the grave,
Ascended to the Father’s throne.
Christ sent His Spirit, like the wind,
To draw all men, to lead them home.

And now Hell’s kingdom on the earth
Is plundered by the risen Lord.
And, powerless, the devil cries
When souls are fed the Living Word.
He cannot stop the spreading Church.
He cannot quench the Holy Ghost
That comes to all who heed the call,
And saves them to the uttermost.

Still rising tide, still flowing free,
Bursting the dam the devil raised.
The final outcome’s not in doubt;
Christ, the champion be praised.
King of all Kings and Lord of Lords,
He will annihilate all sin.
Even Death will live no longer,
Christ is Beginning and the End.