Larry Part VI

It's easy to listen to sincere. And I think sincerity helps make things timeless.

The Road out of Lameness

Aaahh the joys of blogging in

(insert seven hour break)

the morning!

But actually I only wrote two thirds of that previous sentence in the morning, and now it’s already night and I’m trying to carve out a few seconds to write.

And now I’m listening to Prairie Home Companion and typing. I’m trying to blog about something of significance, but Garrison is telling jokes and talking about flatulence. What could be more engaging? How do you expect me to concentrate?

Why did God make farts smelly? It’s so deaf people could enjoy them too.

How can I compete with that?

I wanted to write more about Larry Norman. I’m not that sad about his passing (maybe because I’ve been expecting it so long), but I’ve spent much time remembering. I’ve played and replayed his songs as I’m rushing from job to job. Strolling down memory lane without the time to say much about it.

Well, I managed more than a single sentence, but the road completely out of lameness still eludes me. I’ll set the alarm earlier tomorrow.

Why Should the Devil?

Thanks to Dave for the link to Paste Magazine. Paste columnist Andy Whitman wrote an insightful and honest article on Larry Norman, his life, and legacy. It’s worth the read.

My experience mirrors those of many who have commented on Norman’s impact this past week. My first Norman album was Only Visiting This Planet and I literally wore the groves out on that piece of vinyl. From the first listen through it grabbed me. And it never let me go. It became my anthem, my mission, my passion, my canon. Those were the words I sought to live by. They became deeply etched in my heart and mind. I could use them as an excuse for who or what I am today.

His music led me to many other artists over the years, but his words were the ones that stayed fresh. Even as my theology continued to evolve through the college years, and I questioned some of the presumptions that undergirded his work, I still listened and appreciated.

I got to see him numerous times in concert. And whereas his studio sessions had the edginess apparent in his lyrics, the live performances especially brought forth his playfulness. He would make it enjoyable (or at least palatable) to be challenged to the core of your being.

Watching His Jaw Drop

It’s not too often that I get to see my younger son’s jaw drop. Yesterday was such a day. We were working together listening to a local Minnesota Public Radio station “The Current.” They are a station that does a great job staying ‘current’ and playing a wide range of musical expressions throughout each day. The key to the station is its variety.

After playing a tune from one of my son’s favorite bands, Modest Mouse, the DJ went on to say that this band was in the studio with Larry Norman just prior to Norman’s recent death. (Of course, I already knew this, having done some reading about Norman’s passing.)

My son, however, was in utter shock that this uber-hip band would rub shoulders with some old long hair that sang a lot about Jesus. My son had the opportunity to see Norman in concert a few years earlier at Cornerstone (because I made him go,) and I think he was impressed even though Norman could barely move at the time. (His band was tight.)

Those two musical names just didn’t seem to fit together, and the fact that this station (which is THE station "informed, relevant" college-aged kids are “supposed to” listen to) would report on this collaboration caused his face to contort.

It was fun to see.

And there is probably some point to be made in this story, but I’m still claiming sickness. So figure it out yourself. (With a smile.)

SMILE Larry!

Good Bye Larry

I had planned to blog about the Oscars today, but some news has changed that. I heard this afternoon that Larry Norman died yesterday. I hope to have time to write a little more than I can right now about his influence on my life.

But for now I rush off from work to class and don't have the time to adequately say what I'd like to say.