Yesterday I preached on the book of Habakkuk. It was a great opportunity to explore a semi-unknown book in the Old Testament. Habakkuk happens to be one of my favorite books in all of Scripture, and once you listen (or read), hopefully you’ll see why.
So here is the audio recording of the sermon, followed by a transcript. Any feedback would be welcome and appreciated!!
Because I Said So – Transcript
This little gem of a blog post has been sitting in my drafts folder since January or so, and I kept adding to it and then deleting it at the risk of alienating anyone. But it’s ready to go now, so enjoy, and please comment.
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I used to be a little bit of a fan of country music. I’ve never been really into it, but it used to be ok to me. Tolerable. I mean, I grew up with my parents listening to it. But in retrospect, I do admire a lot about older country music.
I remember seeing people like Conway Twitty, Johnny Cash, and others getting up with their guitar and singing on an old show called “Hee Haw.” It wasn’t so much that they were brilliant musicians (though you may think they were, and that’s perfectly ok – I choose no sides on this topic). It was the simple fact that they were actually singing about something that meant something to them – not something that was written for them or something that contained none of their own inspiration. You’ll never hear a George Jones song about getting a barbecue stain on his T-shirt, or a Conway Twitty record containing 13 songs about how cool it was to be in high school. No, these guys were the real “cowboys.” Not the guys who sing about hunting yet have never hunted, or even played “Duck Hunt,” for that matter.
That being said, I think this is common in a lot of music across most genres today. People seemed to have stopped singing about real life anymore. I fell into this trap as a solo musician years back, and know how easy it is to just write what people will like instead of heartfelt, original songs. These days it’s all about being a rock star. And I don’t think that’s how it was ever meant to be, although it’s dangerously hard not to fall right into that state of mind.
So if you would, please suggest some “real” music to me. Music that is authentic & genuine, inspired (not necessarily inspiring, but to each his or her own), and meaningful.
Oh, and please don’t suggest Yanni.
So what is up with McDonalds after midnight? I mean, the first time, it was funny. This time, well, it was still funny. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you -
Yes, I’d like fries with that (part deux)…
So I go to a drive-thru at a different McDonalds, but still in the same city as before.
Cashier: Thank you for choosing McDonalds how can I help you? (note: I didn’t put punctuation in there for a reason. She kept the same low, dull tone throughout the sentence. I know, I’m being nit-picky…)
Me: I’ll have (guess) a quarter pounder with cheese meal, no onion, coke to drink, and an apple pie.
Cashier: You want two for a dollar?
Me: Sure.
–waiting–
At this point, I’m hearing everything that’s going on in the place because she didn’t turn off her microphone. Among the things I hear are:
Where’s yo apple pie at??
Who got da *&#$^* apple pies?!?
That’ll be $5.15.
No, wait that aint his total, that’s hers up there.
$6.
Two quarters??
And I also heard something that sounded like the mic was eaten then regurgitated by some sort of wild animal, but real quick like.
So I’m still sitting in my car waiting for my total. And here’s what I get:
Different Cashier: Can I help you?
Me: Um, I was waiting for my total.
Cashier: What did you order?
Me: —pause— —repeated by order—
Cashier: Yeah, it ready. You can drive around to the window.
Me: But, I just… OK.
I drive around, and witness a few hobos in the parking lot trying to get a loyal McDonalds patron to give them money. I’m thinking to myself – Let me guess. You’re a Christian man, wouldn’t wanna take nobodys money, and just need gas to get to the liquor store-I mean your broken down car. But I digress….
The lovely (and by lovely, I mean incompetent) cashier tells me it’s $5.45. I hand her the money. She then repeats to me: $5.45. I just stare at her, knowing that I gave her the right amount. She looks at the money, and says “Oh, ok.” As if her reaching for the money, touching the money, and taking the money into her possesion hadn’t officially “sealed the deal” that she had the money.
I got my food, which was piping hot and tasty, but not before she handed me the bag and no drink and said “Have a nice day.” I asked for my drink, and this time I got “Have a pleasant night.”
As a side note, I was bothered by the late appearance of a man who looked like he should be on the front of National Geographic as a starving Ethiopian – though I feel pretty confident he was of Mexican descent. Skin and bones, folks. Looked like something we hung on our front door last Halloween. Apparently, employees don’t eat the food. Or maybe it’s the food that caused his malnourishment. Who knows.
So that’s it. As I drove off, I thought to myself – never again. But I know I’ll be back. I just can’t resist the DQPWCVMNOWCTD (it’s a lot easier as an acronym, don’t you think?).
See you in Charlotte.
-jon
Last night, I played an open mic in Fayetteville, and upon leaving the venue, decided I’d stop by a drive-thru. It just so happened that McDonald’s was the first thing I saw, so I stopped.
Cashier: Can I take yo’ orda?
Jon: Um, yeah, I’d like a quarter-pounder with cheese meal, with no onions, and a coke to drink.
Cashier: You want something else?
Jon: Actually, yeah, I’ll take two apple pies.
Cashier: OK, den, you drive around to first window.
At this point, I did as any hungry person does and drove right around to window one. I paid, and proceeded to window two.
Associate 1 (Female): What kind of drink you had?
Jon: Um, Coke.
Female: Oh, ok. Here. I think that’s Diet Coke, but check to make sure.
Jon: Uhhhh, I said Coke, not Diet Coke.
Female: Oh, ok den.
She then proceeds to give me a Coke with foam spilling over the top and no lid. Who the hell drinks their fast food drink in the car with no lid on it?
Jon: Can I have a lid?
Female: Oh, Lord! —incoherent southern/jamaican nonsense words followed by hysterical laughter—
So I get my lid, and now someone else comes into the picture. It’s a skinny guy who comes into view spouting off some reggae at the top of his lungs. Without even flinching, he segues from some Beenie Man right into asking me:
Associate 2 (Male): How you want yo’ sannwich?
Jon: No onions.
Male: Word – that’s what’s up.
Female: Boooah boooah boooah! (as often heard in reggae music)
So now I’m right in the middle of a reggae concert. I wonder if that’s how it’ll be in Jamaica… Anyway, forging on. Sean Paul gives me my burger in the box only – no bag. After a short pause, the guy comes back:
Male: So you need somethin’ else?
Jon: How about some fries?
Male: No doubt. We keep it real here.
I was stunned at how he was responding to my queries. It was like me asking for my fries was making me one of them.
So he hands me the fries, this time in a bag. So at this point, in my possession are a quarter-pounder with cheese, boxed, a coke, and a medium order of fries in a bag large enough for the entire meal. So what’s next?
Jon: Um, I did have 2 apple pies.
Female: Here you go. (Like she just spawned them mid-air. I never saw her reach for them.)
Jon: (After taking inventory) OK, I guess I just need a straw.
Female: (Handing me a straw) Boooah boooah boooah!
Male: Shabba shabba shabbaaaaaaaa!!!
Jon: (trying not to burst into laughter) Oh, and can I have a couple of napkins?
Well, it was as if asking for napkins was the ailment that killed Bob Marley, because everything stopped. The girl walked away, and the guy took about 2.5 minutes to get me 3 napkins. But before he let me go, he said to me:
Male: You make sure you come back here soon. We keeps it real here.
Wow. It was truly a memorable experience. I wanted badly to be mad at the people for taking so long for such a simple order. I half expected to find onions on a cold burger, or ganja-laced apple pies, but the meal was surprisingly decent.
And all in all, I couldn’t tell whether I should have felt worse for these people or the people waiting behind me in line.
Keep it real. Boooah boooah boooah.
-jon
