An Evening AT the Club
Mike plays bass in one of my all-time favorite bands. You will not find this group gracing the cover of major publications, and I doubt any of the members have huge Twitter followings. Instead, this rock ensemble plays every Wednesday and some Saturday evenings at one of my favorite lounges in Old Town Alexandria. I visited Old Town last week to enjoy time with my daughter, so it was a delight to show her and her boyfriend one of my favorite haunts.
The frontman of the band is a performer named Bill Pappas. The seventy-something rocker is charming, funny, and a fantastic guitar player. The band plays all original music, original that is . . . to the musicians and writers that made them famous. (One of Bill’s favorite jokes). The Bill Pappas Project only plays cover tunes, mainly from the great era of rock and roll music. All the band members have been in the industry for decades and have joined the stage with numerous famous entertainers. These fellows know what they are doing!
During breaks, band members join the audience, who are crowded around small tables set so closely together that one must frequently move to let other people get by on the way to the restrooms upstairs. On the way to the stairs, you can easily bump into one of the players who are crammed in a tiny space at the front of the room, rocking their hearts out. Behind the drummer is a large, tall window, probably a hundred years old. You can watch him play from the street below, and he sometimes stands in the window and plays on the glass! He can make that glass sing better than most drummers can pound an entire drum set. He sports a long, gray ponytail, and when he plays, he reminds me of the Muppet, Animal. He is fun to watch.
A couple of years ago, I met the tall, slightly heavyset older African American who sits on a stool sporting the beautiful instrument that provides the foundation for the music – the bass. Mike sits in front of a microphone and sings occasionally but mostly makes jokes, usually at Bill’s expense. His funny facial expressions as he plays make for a jovial atmosphere, and he can play bass with the best of them.
As the bassist passed us on a break, I stood and introduced myself and our group. He gave me a hearty handshake and put a big hand on my shoulder as we began chatting. Before long, he was sitting at our table making jokes while smoking a Marlboro. It is not often that audience members enjoy sitting around a table chatting with the band, so I was delighted. Before long, my new friend was back on stage, making it happen.
During the final break, which was long after midnight, we once again stood together, and he posed for a picture with me. He was laughing up a storm, enhancing the conversation with a few colorful words, when he blurted out, "We’ve got to get this thing over with 'cause I’m playing in church this morning.” I cracked up, as did my group. This guy plays until two in the morning, stashes his rig, then arises to play bass in not one but two different churches every Sunday. He explained how one church is contemporary, while the other is more old-fashioned, but he likes both.
I replied, “What?! You play in church every week?” He then told me how his momma brought him up attending church and, like so many musicians; he started doing what he loves in a church choir. At one point, he remarked, “If I don’t get myself to church, my momma gonna slap me upside the head.” Ha! The man is probably as old as me! Moms, never underestimate your influence and how enduring it is.
Then, my fun began. I placed my hand on his big bicep and pulled him towards me. When he was close enough, I said, “Yea, I know. I was a pastor for forty years.” Mike’s eyes lit up as if he had just seen the pope, and a huge smile crossed his face. He slapped his forehead and proclaimed, “Oh shit, I better watch my mouth!” We both got a good laugh. I must admit it is sometimes delightful to chat with someone for a while and wait for a perfect moment to explain my vocation. You’d get a kick out of some of their reactions – as do I.
I wonder if Jesus enjoyed conversing with new friends until they finally asked the typical question, “So, what do you do for a living.” I wonder what the Son of God said. Perhaps, “I’m a social worker,” or, “Some folks say I am a wonderful counselor.” Do you think he told them, “I am also kind of a doctor, and I love a good party, especially wedding receptions.” Or maybe it was, “I’m a motivational speaker.”
How often do you think the Master let people dig themselves into a verbal hole and then proceeded to tell them their life story, including one or two of their secrets? Then the inevitable question, “What do you do for a living,” was an intense inquiry. One lady walked away from a conversation with Carpenter, saying, “He told me everything I ever did! Who is this guy?” He once replied to an inquirer, “You know those prophecies from the Law and Prophets predicting the advent of a Messiah, a Savior, and the work he would do when He arrived.”
“Yes, I am familiar with those things. All Jews are aware of those prophesies.”
“Well, you’re looking at Him. I am the Messiah, the Savior of my people. That’s what I do.”
Drop the mic!! Jaw drop! Are you kidding me? Is this for real?
I ponder whether the Master quietly chuckled to Himself, thinking, “I gotcha!”
Anyway, back to my bassist friend. Who would have thought that a person playing in a band late into the night every Saturday would then lend his gifts to God on Sunday? I find myself prone to making judgments about people without the benefit of knowing their stories. Malcolm Gladwell insightfully explains this process in depth in his book, Talking to Strangers – What We Should Know About the People We Don’t Know.” The title alone says it all. I highly recommend this work.
One of my dreams throughout life was to play in a blues band on Saturday nights and then in the church band Sunday mornings. This guy is living my dream, and I almost missed it.
Point: We are not very good judges of strangers. Gladwell’s book makes an impressive case for this proposition.
I learned years ago and am still trying to abide by this truth; There’s always a story behind the story. Most times, the adage: Never judge a book by its cover, is good advice. Yet, as a new author, I learned that cover design is one of the two/three most essential book publishing processes. Covers sell books, and few authors have the skills to write a book and design the cover. We do judge books by their appearance as we do people. However, publishers evaluate books by their content – interesting.
Perhaps we should always be in the process of learning to withhold judgment, not only with strangers but with friends and family members. If we do judge, it is wise to hold on to our opinions lightly because they are often incorrect. Jesus is the only One with the proper insight into our lives to allow Him perfect discernment. The rest of us are at a disadvantage.
Play on, Mike! You’re my hero!
Live Inspired!
Don Mark
P.S. Thank you for your prayers about the publishing of my book. Your requests to God worked to my advantage. Four publishers accepted my manuscript, and I signed my first book contract last week. Woot! Woot! Thanks for yourr help.
