How Strange the Sound

Anyone who lived through the sixties, any past or present primal-heavy-rock-loving person from back in my day, can identify a classic piece from that era within the first two bars of the introduction. Such is the case with 'House of the Rising Sun'. So on Sunday when the choir got up to sing the 'anthem', I knew within two notes that it was 'House of the Rising Sun'. Hold on, I thought! Did that song have a huge underlying religious message I never recognized? I couldn't WAIT until they started the actual singing. Hmmmm....there is a house in New Orleans..... Finally, when the choir came in, the words were 'Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me!'

REALLY? The words all seemed to fit; I just couldn't help thinking that the next words would possibly be 'and it's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and God I know I'm one', which would definitely fly in the face of any Christian message they would be trying to deliver. Fortunately, they weren't, and the choir continued on with the lyrics to Amazing Grace. But I still wondered, "Were those of us who had 'experienced' the sixties supposed to overlay the lyrics of House of the Rising Sun with those of Amazing Grace?"

After church I saw the choir director, a sweet and generous twentysomething. I asked him how the words to Amazing Grace were meshed with House. Was that a brainstorm on his part? Oh, no, they weren't. He'd never heard of House of the Rising Sun and had chosen the anthem after he heard the Blind Boys of Alabama sing it on one of their albums.

How disgustingly old I felt.

But our conversation went on. He wanted to know if there was anything he could do for me. Is there something he could do at the house? He's in this part of town a lot and would love to help out in anyway he could. Did I have his number? Did I need anything?

Then he told me about his mother. I knew his stepfather had been diagnosed with some form of cancer. I remember when he went to wherever they live for his stepfather's surgery. But what he told me next both surprised and didn't surprise me. He said that shortly after his stepfather was diagnosed with cancer, his mother was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. At that point his stepfather emptied all of their savings and bank accounts and took off. His mother is now virtually penniless. How long had they been married? I asked. Since he was a little boy he said. About as long as Bill and I were married. But as awful as that sounds, I somehow 'get it'. Sometimes when you know your life is ending, you don't want to have to deal with anyone else's "stuff". You don't want to make any compromises, any concessions. You want to spend your remaining days doing what you want to do and that's it.

I think that's a big part of what happened with Bill. He had been told his life was ending. He didn't like my dad. He wanted to play poker whenever and wherever he wanted, and he wanted to have the money to do it without having to work. Looked perfect. Could happen. It was a slight gamble but then, hey, that's his game. Take what you can get your hands on and get out. Go live your life the way you want to. No critical father-in-law, no disapproving wife. No responsibilities. The rest is collateral damage and that isn't important. Probably sounded good, especially considering the mental state of mind he was in at the time.