Last night was a rough night.
Apart from my baby girl waking up about every two hours crying, I had a rather odd dream that has left me wondering, “What’s that about?”
I was in a church building somewhere standing behind the audio mixer. The mixer was set up outside the auditorium so all I could see were these two double doors. There was a young guy not only running the mixer but he was single-handedly providing the praise and worship music.
This kid had plugged a microphone directly into the mixer and was singing along with a karaoke track. The music was actually pretty good (not the cheesy 7-11, jazz-hands friendly fare so common in the American mega-church of today) but the kid was singing “skippy dippy do” and other nonsense over and over. Just before I was wakened by my little girl’s cries I remember really getting into the music but feeling appalled at the junk coming out of the kid’s mouth.
Perhaps this is what happens when a Christian reads a biography about Frank Zappa.