Gray Flannel Dwarf


Tales from the Class^W Honeymoon: Ole Crooner

I won a t-shirt during a karaoke session on our trip to Curaçao. I won “best act”, but it’s a bit diluted when you consider that only six acts performed, and every person or group got a prize — even if there was a tie for “worst performance”, no kidding.

Anyway, I started the night off with the only Dylan song on the list, “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door”, and I sang it true to form. Reflecting upon this, however, I don’t think the DJ dude had heard the real version, because he kept ad-libbing the GnR-esque “yeah yeah yeah” parts in. Meanwhile, I finished the song, and got off stage, not taking that reflection into much consideration.

Well, I decided I wanted to get up there again, but there wasn’t really much in there that interested me. I decided on doing Bob Marley’s “No Woman, No Cry”. I gave someone the book, who took it over to enter the CD code, but came back a few minutes later.

“They say the Bob Marley cd isn’t working right now.”
“Uh… ok, let me find something else”.

So I’m flipping through the book, when it hits me:

* I just sang a Dylan song, in true Dylan form, at karaoke
* These employees have probably not heard the Dylan version
* I requested a Bob Marley song
* I am currently sitting on a small island in the middle of the Caribbean.

Why do I get the feeling that they didn’t want to hear a busted-up tune by the revered Marley?

Anyway, I sat there and flipped through the book several times before finally deciding on “Back in the USSR“. Rest assured it wasn’t performed as Dylan would’ve done it.

Good thing they weren’t having any technical difficulties with that disc, though. My next choice was going to be “Baby Got Back”.

Tags: , , — cswiii @ 3:01 pm

More lamentations.

From a comment I posted in another weblog.

For about two years after college, I continued to read up on the meat and potatoes; I pored over Bonhoeffer’s Ethics, dabbled in some Merton, scribbling notes across the inside cover of the book (as taking a Dick Ray class taught me) and on coffee-stained napkins. Haven’t read much of that sort of thing in the past few years, however. Been too interested in pop political magazines and public affairs, and while that kind of stuff is okay, it’s not nourishing.

Reading this entry really makes me kind of ashamed at how intellectually lazy I have become. It’s funny that I should come across your entry at this time, however… when my now-wife and I were cleaning out the last vestiges of bachelorhood from my bedroom, I ran across a box, filled mostly with old seminary catalogues from when I was halfheartedly considering it, but which also included a few other theological books that somehow hadn’t made it onto the shelf with the others.

Out from an old yellowed copy of Rauschenbusch’s The Social Gospel fluttered one of those napkins. My wife looked at me kind of quizzically — and probably with good reason, as I tend to have scraps of paper all over the place — wondering why I’d kept some crummy old napkin in a box somewhere.

I explained afterward what it was, and she was understanding, but seeing it was kind of a kick in the pants, spiritually, but not in that gruff-grandfather sort of way… more like a bully-at-the-beach sort of way.

In terms of philosophical heft, my head is resembling something more along the lines of Fat Albert than, say, Jack Lalanne.

cswiii @ 11:15 am