Actually, He didn't. I learned this last night. It's good to know. God made me many things, but not funky.
The Harvest Jazz and Blues Festival, an annual concertfest that transforms staid old Fredericton into a happening spot for a week every September, was in full swing last night. With 8 big tent venues, and entertaining buskers out in full force scattered all through the downtown core, people were out in droves to enjoy a beautiful early autumn night and to take in music that ranged from classical jazz to smokey New Orleans blues. Each tent has a theme........a large group of us dropped our kids off at one house and headed to the "Love ya Funky" venue to see the headline act "God Made Me Funky." Within a matter of seconds into the first song, I realized that I was in for a long night.
Normally if I'm attending something that I don't particularly enjoy, I can sneak into my head and entertain myself with my imagination.........kind of like Walter Mitty. But, the noise was so invasive that my usual coping mechanism failed me.
Loudly raucous with a deep pulsating bass beat that invaded my head and gut like a flashing strobe light............the band played on and on and on and on............... and all I could think of was:
"I'm not in Kansas anymore." Though I've never been to Kansas, it seemed apt. Yes, I was visiting an alien planet stuck in '70's funkytown timewarp. Problem was..........I was the alien.
I was surrounded by a large crowd of people who LOVED it. Sure there were the ones that were faking it and pretending to go with the flow of the funkydance. You know them........a couple of beats off in their dance groove...........standing a bit off to the side and smiling like they really arent sure, but not wanting to ruin the party. For the most part, however, the crowd lapped it all up..........couldn't get enough of the funkygroovethang. Since I was basically stuck there trying not to absord the hits to my nonfunkified system, I sat off to the side of the speakers on a picnic table and watched a diverse crowd jump, bounce, sway and get into the groove thing. Eternity came and went..............
Every once in a while, one should be bombarded with a personal revelation. Here's what I learned last night: God didn't make me funky. God didn't even give me the openness to appreciate funky. God made me the type of person that prefers listening to smooth sexy bluesy jazz sound found in a low key smoky bar.........a guitar, a background drum beat and a guy on the side playing a harmonica.
Hey! I'm so funkyfine with that!
The Harvest Jazz and Blues Festival, an annual concertfest that transforms staid old Fredericton into a happening spot for a week every September, was in full swing last night. With 8 big tent venues, and entertaining buskers out in full force scattered all through the downtown core, people were out in droves to enjoy a beautiful early autumn night and to take in music that ranged from classical jazz to smokey New Orleans blues. Each tent has a theme........a large group of us dropped our kids off at one house and headed to the "Love ya Funky" venue to see the headline act "God Made Me Funky." Within a matter of seconds into the first song, I realized that I was in for a long night.
Normally if I'm attending something that I don't particularly enjoy, I can sneak into my head and entertain myself with my imagination.........kind of like Walter Mitty. But, the noise was so invasive that my usual coping mechanism failed me.
Loudly raucous with a deep pulsating bass beat that invaded my head and gut like a flashing strobe light............the band played on and on and on and on............... and all I could think of was:
"I'm not in Kansas anymore." Though I've never been to Kansas, it seemed apt. Yes, I was visiting an alien planet stuck in '70's funkytown timewarp. Problem was..........I was the alien.
I was surrounded by a large crowd of people who LOVED it. Sure there were the ones that were faking it and pretending to go with the flow of the funkydance. You know them........a couple of beats off in their dance groove...........standing a bit off to the side and smiling like they really arent sure, but not wanting to ruin the party. For the most part, however, the crowd lapped it all up..........couldn't get enough of the funkygroovethang. Since I was basically stuck there trying not to absord the hits to my nonfunkified system, I sat off to the side of the speakers on a picnic table and watched a diverse crowd jump, bounce, sway and get into the groove thing. Eternity came and went..............
Every once in a while, one should be bombarded with a personal revelation. Here's what I learned last night: God didn't make me funky. God didn't even give me the openness to appreciate funky. God made me the type of person that prefers listening to smooth sexy bluesy jazz sound found in a low key smoky bar.........a guitar, a background drum beat and a guy on the side playing a harmonica.
Hey! I'm so funkyfine with that!
3 comments:
Awareness,
I wanted to stop by and thank you for taking the time to read Victor's story. Am translating all the comments he gets, so I'll send you message on to him.
Thanks agian,
Regi
"God made me the type of person that prefers listening to smooth sexy bluesy jazz sound found in a low key smoky bar.........a guitar, a background drum beat and a guy on the side playing a harmonica."
couldn't agree more, that's why ' a love supreme' and wine a part of my meditations, and why story tellers with piano's and acoustic guitars in bars win my attention - though i did find myself moving (ever so slightly) to the scissor sisters the other day! Quite a confession i know
Hi Regi. My pleasure. Hope you visit here again.
Hey Harbour......meet you by the piano bar. Oh, and yes I do have another side to me. Nothing like a good rock and roll summer concert to rev one up. I love to dance......irregardless of tempo. Well, except for funk.
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