The Gospel Singin’

I find that my life has turned into one that’s so unexciting that I have nothing about which to write.

The move is over.

I am here.




Taxiing: soccer, Irish dance, guitar, shoe store, emergency Wendy’s run, garbage dump. You know, all the places to which any normal mom travels in a day.

However, there is one highlight that I referenced in an earlier post that I thought might brighten your day.

Here, in East Tennessee, there’s lots of gospel music. Now, when I say “lots,” I mean they have it at the fair every night, they have it at the Gospel Singing Hall (yes, there’s a building dedicated to it in my small town, and the name is kitchy, don’t you think?), they have it at Bimbo’s Restaurant (wait for it, wait for it….ahhhh…there it is…the irony of singing about the Savior at a place named Bimbo’s), and they have it at McDonald’s.

Oh, and at church, three times a week like good Baptists, but I figured you knew that.

During our first two weeks here, we had no internet connectivity at our domicile. Apparently internet connectivity is not given high priority by the installation company.  That’s probably because the lovely and gracious people of the installation company probably never had a RESEARCH PROSPECTUS due!


Calm down, sister.

Bitterness is not becoming.


Anyway, I had to travel from here to high yonder looking for a place to mooch Wi-Fi service after hours when Big Daddy could watch the Diva for me.  My choices came down to sitting in my car in the parking lot of the library, sitting in my car in the parking lot of the cheap motel across the street from Lowe’s, Krystal’s, and McDonald’s. The first two were out. Duh. Krystal’s is hot enough inside to bake bread. I can’t write when I’m sweaty.

McDonald’s, here I came.

I went there on a Tuesday evening with no incident. On Thursday, I returned for round two of research prospectus writing. When I arrived, I found that the parking lot was jam packed with cars.

Where did all these cars come from? I said to myself. They weren’t here Tuesday night.

Thinking I was going to have to park at the Goodwill, I circled the building and found one, available spot.  I parked, grabbed my bag, and entered the building.

Inside was a wonderland filled with the elderly. There was blue hair as far as the eye could see. Socks and sandals, high-decibel conversation, and the strong smell of coffee and rubbing alcohol.

And here I was thinking McDonald’s was for kids!

What the heck? I said, to myself, of course. If those old people heard me say “heck” they’d probably whip me right there, I thought.

I looked over my right shoulder into the Playland, which had been transformed into a Ryman-esque stage, complete with microphones, a banner, and all manner of sound equipment. Speakers had been placed in the main dining room for those who didn’t get there early enough to score a front-row picnic table in the Playland.

Oh (mental head slap)! I read about the gospel singing in the paper, I thought. Oh, well. I’m used to studying in all kinds of environments. They won’t bother me.

I proceeded to set up my workstation and commence research.

Then “they” started “singing”.

Here’s the thing: I’ve done some singing in my life. I’m not great, but I do okay. Never, NEVER have I EVER gotten up to sing in front of any number of people without at least knowing which song I was going to sing!

But enough about me…

These lovely people stood at the microphone and had the following conversation.

In the microphone.

Man (looking at others…about 10 others): What do y’all want to sing?

Other Man (passing out song books): Whatever y’all want to.

Lady: Let’s sing Gospel Ship.

All: Okay, that sounds good.

And so it begins.

Above, you’ll notice that I put the word “singing” in quotation marks.

Have you ever seen the movie Elf?  In it, Buddy says that singing’s just like talking, only you move your voice up and down. Then he demonstrates.

The McDonald’s singers made Buddy sound like Sinatra at his best.

And the old people were praising God. They could do that because they could clearly hear the music, which was louder than the front-row at a Metallica concert.

And I smiled because this is the place where God brought me on this day.

And I love this place.

Then I packed up my bags and went to Krystal’s.


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