Wednesday Wisdom: The Cool Kids
I had five performances on my bucket list. U2, Lion King, Mumford and Sons, Miss Saigon, and I'd like to see Avett brothers perform live at the Red Rocks Amphitheater. I have already checked off the first two. I have tickets to see Miss Saigon later this month and Monday night I checked off item number three with an unforgettable performance from Mumford at Talking Stick Arena.
There's nothing that compares with hearing those songs that have made the soundtrack of your life, live in a crowd of people with their own stories of how these lyrics have spoken into the silence at just the right moment. I listened to them clutching the hand of the "lover of the light" that I've been given to "have and to hold." We sang along to the words that have sometimes been a prayer or a lament or an encouragement.
But the band went through a phase recently. Wilder Mind. The album where they rebelled against themselves, who they were and who their fans originally fell in love with. And they're still finding their new way back in this new album Delta. So there was a little less fiddle, banjo and the songs that awake my soul. And a little more rock band and detached techno sounds. We'll be alright. I forgive them. Coldplay went through it too and I'm still a fan. I'm a six on the enneagram, remember? Once a fan, always a fan. And besides...that. voice. Let's be honest, Marcus Mumford could sing "Baby Shark" for three hours and I'd still be mesmerized.
But I have to speculate that perhaps the attempt at rebranding came out of a restless boredom. Maybe they just could not handle playing a barn-raising, toe-tapping, hand clapping "I Will Wait" one more time. Maybe they found themselves looking out across the crowd and noticing they had lost their own sense of wonder. That somewhere in the ragged schedule, the blur of cities visited, they had forgotten that they were living the dream and doing what they were made for. What they loved. Maybe not. But that idea makes what I'm going to tell you all the more significant.
Because the very best part of the concert was the opening band.
Monday morning an email was sent out. The opening band was sick and they couldn't make it. But never fear, in their place was The Sun Never Sets on the Cool Kids. Who? A google deep dive found no traces of such a band.
At 7:45 Mumford and Sons took the stage disguised as a cover band. And when I say disguised, I literally mean disguised. Woody the Cowboy with long hair. The pope. A gigantic T-Rex wielding a banjo. Freddie Flintstone on the drums. A cross between a heavy medal hair band singer, a pirate and Willie Nelson. I'm a slow processor, so for a little bit I wondered if they'd just found the most ridiculous band they could to entertain us. A cover band from one of the casinos. But they were just a little TOO good. And when Marcus moved the hair away fro his face there was no mistaking that nose. They covered everything from Bob Dillon to Cyndi Lopper and AC/DC. It was a riot and Dan and I kept saying, "It looks like they're having so much fun!" And we had fun watching them have fun.
I've been feeling sorry for myself the last few weeks. I'm just tired. The dropping off and picking up kids from school and the checking the parent portal to ask them why they forgot to turn in that assignment. It feels like by the time I get the second one dropped off it's time to start driving the loop all over again. There's been papers to write and responses to post even when my eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. And ministry has been a little less warm fuzzies and a little more showing up on a day off to paint walls with our volunteers so that the Littles have a space to be in again. I sat bemoaning these things to a friend and realized how ridiculous I must sound. I'm living the dream. The life I've always wanted. My version of Marcus Mumford standing in front of a microphone and an arena-sized crowd.
But maybe it's time to put on the T-Rex outfit and grab a banjo. Because life isn't all about having fun but it's also not about not having fun. Sometimes I need to pause and fully appreciate the fact that I have been given the gift of doing what I was made for. The things I've waited my whole life for. Sometimes I just need to recapture that sense of wonder. Like the day recently that I picked Moses up from school and went to Uptown Jungle with him. And was really with him-not in the "I'll sit and read this book while you play" kind of way but in the "Which slide are WE going to race down next?" kind of way. And last Saturday, while the other grown ups worked on the Littles' room, I forced myself to push aside the fact that we'd all rather be watching netflix in our pj's and I sat down with a little boy who'd come with his dad and we made snails out of play dough. And I made him laugh and he taught me how to make "Bumble Bee", his favorite transformer.
I was inspired, watching Mumford and Sons play. Being who they were created to be. And I want to inspire like that. I want to enjoy the gift of living into being who I was made to be too. Even if I have to rent a T-Rex.
There's nothing that compares with hearing those songs that have made the soundtrack of your life, live in a crowd of people with their own stories of how these lyrics have spoken into the silence at just the right moment. I listened to them clutching the hand of the "lover of the light" that I've been given to "have and to hold." We sang along to the words that have sometimes been a prayer or a lament or an encouragement.
But the band went through a phase recently. Wilder Mind. The album where they rebelled against themselves, who they were and who their fans originally fell in love with. And they're still finding their new way back in this new album Delta. So there was a little less fiddle, banjo and the songs that awake my soul. And a little more rock band and detached techno sounds. We'll be alright. I forgive them. Coldplay went through it too and I'm still a fan. I'm a six on the enneagram, remember? Once a fan, always a fan. And besides...that. voice. Let's be honest, Marcus Mumford could sing "Baby Shark" for three hours and I'd still be mesmerized.
But I have to speculate that perhaps the attempt at rebranding came out of a restless boredom. Maybe they just could not handle playing a barn-raising, toe-tapping, hand clapping "I Will Wait" one more time. Maybe they found themselves looking out across the crowd and noticing they had lost their own sense of wonder. That somewhere in the ragged schedule, the blur of cities visited, they had forgotten that they were living the dream and doing what they were made for. What they loved. Maybe not. But that idea makes what I'm going to tell you all the more significant.
Because the very best part of the concert was the opening band.
Monday morning an email was sent out. The opening band was sick and they couldn't make it. But never fear, in their place was The Sun Never Sets on the Cool Kids. Who? A google deep dive found no traces of such a band.
At 7:45 Mumford and Sons took the stage disguised as a cover band. And when I say disguised, I literally mean disguised. Woody the Cowboy with long hair. The pope. A gigantic T-Rex wielding a banjo. Freddie Flintstone on the drums. A cross between a heavy medal hair band singer, a pirate and Willie Nelson. I'm a slow processor, so for a little bit I wondered if they'd just found the most ridiculous band they could to entertain us. A cover band from one of the casinos. But they were just a little TOO good. And when Marcus moved the hair away fro his face there was no mistaking that nose. They covered everything from Bob Dillon to Cyndi Lopper and AC/DC. It was a riot and Dan and I kept saying, "It looks like they're having so much fun!" And we had fun watching them have fun.
I've been feeling sorry for myself the last few weeks. I'm just tired. The dropping off and picking up kids from school and the checking the parent portal to ask them why they forgot to turn in that assignment. It feels like by the time I get the second one dropped off it's time to start driving the loop all over again. There's been papers to write and responses to post even when my eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. And ministry has been a little less warm fuzzies and a little more showing up on a day off to paint walls with our volunteers so that the Littles have a space to be in again. I sat bemoaning these things to a friend and realized how ridiculous I must sound. I'm living the dream. The life I've always wanted. My version of Marcus Mumford standing in front of a microphone and an arena-sized crowd.
But maybe it's time to put on the T-Rex outfit and grab a banjo. Because life isn't all about having fun but it's also not about not having fun. Sometimes I need to pause and fully appreciate the fact that I have been given the gift of doing what I was made for. The things I've waited my whole life for. Sometimes I just need to recapture that sense of wonder. Like the day recently that I picked Moses up from school and went to Uptown Jungle with him. And was really with him-not in the "I'll sit and read this book while you play" kind of way but in the "Which slide are WE going to race down next?" kind of way. And last Saturday, while the other grown ups worked on the Littles' room, I forced myself to push aside the fact that we'd all rather be watching netflix in our pj's and I sat down with a little boy who'd come with his dad and we made snails out of play dough. And I made him laugh and he taught me how to make "Bumble Bee", his favorite transformer.
I was inspired, watching Mumford and Sons play. Being who they were created to be. And I want to inspire like that. I want to enjoy the gift of living into being who I was made to be too. Even if I have to rent a T-Rex.
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