My father is unable to tune things out. He believes the world is out to irritate him.
And if they knew how completely they upset him, the world would be so into that.
Our Director of Liturgical Music (read: guy who has a PhD in organ music) chooses some variation on the same mind numbing "melody"every week. He holds out one insidious note beyond the human capacity to forgive. If it were a Disney film, we would shake our heads, laugh, indulge the children leaping around our feet: "Yes, Little Billy. He is playing the organ! You are a smart boy." My father wants to kill this man. He wants to shove a hymnal in this man's ear.
He is only calmed in front of an HD football game. His eyes bore into the screen. He forgets to blink. He loses his homicidal urges.
There is only 3rd and 10.
Until the commercials.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment