Under the Spell

Just this past weekend, I was faced with an agonizing choice: take my son to see a high school musical (no, not the High School Musical), or spend the afternoon cleaning the basement.

I'm not sure how long the Jeopardy theme lasts, not that I'm planning to pay royalties to Merv Griffin's estate... but let's just say the decision didn't take that long.

Start with the fact that I am myself the veteran of a number of stage musicals -- anyone who knows me even casually would probably guess that. Add the twist that the show was being presented by my alma mater. Plus, the wife is not so much a fan of the melodic arts (and besides, she was On Duty for the school project we've been trying really hard to pretend was not coming around again via child #2), so if one of us was taking the boy, it figured to be me. In addition, I kind of "collect" classic musicals, and this was one I'd never seen... and for the clincher, it was Godspell.

When you put all of that together, what you end up with is yet another of those perfect storm situations -- or as I often say, if nothing else, I'll get a blog out of it.

I'm probably fortunate that they've redesigned my high school to the extent that the interior is pretty much unrecognizable; there's only so much sensory input I can process at once, and nostalgia all by itself tends to blow my circuit breakers. Still, the auditorium hadn't changed much, so I got an instant zing walking down the aisle.

Before the show, we got an orientation from the director, pointing out that the basic book (script) is meant to be supplemented with more current cultural references (it was written almost 40 years ago, after all). And indeed there were enough extra "bits" that it threatened to veer into Monty Python territory at times, but it mostly all worked as part of the atmosphere.

You can see that, as usual, I was dealing with the Curse of the Blogger -- the affliction wherein I can't really just experience anything for itself. I'm always a little bit outside myself... asking, "Am I enjoying this? Is this really good? What's it like for the people involved?"

I should note, this didn't come about as a result of the blog; if anything, it's the cause. I like to think, at least, that it helps me develop more of a unified 'storyline' to the topics I write about, and maybe even dig out the essence or most important/interesting aspects of an event. However, it can also be kind of a pain in the keister to never quite be all the way in the moment.

I could almost feel the different parts of my brain firing simultaneously as we reached the show's climax. I had been wondering throughout: what's it like for a bunch of "random" high schoolers to be in a show based on the words of Jesus? Did any of the words get through? Were any of them more curious about discipleship than before they started?

At the same time I was also mindful of the experience of putting on a show, keeping an audience's attention, getting applause -- the rush of entertaining; but also the sort of foreboding that comes during the last show, as the intense experience you've been sharing for so many weeks is about to come to an end.

The emotional high point of the show is when Jesus is crucified -- symbolically, not violently, but it's still a wrenching moment. And much of the cast was crying or near tears. I wondered... are they just really good actors? Maybe some of them are painfully aware that in 10 minutes the show will be over forever. Or... could it be that one or more of the kids up there is being overwhelmed by the truth of the gospel?

Hard to say from my vantage point. But it's kind of ironic that keeping myself "outside" the show really worked to draw me in, to really feel what the cast members must've been feeling -- both the performance experience and the true majesty of the story. And as the triumphant conclusion unfolded to the strains of "Long Live God", and then the cast returned laughing and crying at once for the encore, I paused for a moment (choking back my own tears) to pray for the hearts of a group of kids, that they would always contain all the words they had spoken and sung.

Tell Me What I Want to Hear

There's something about political season that always brings out the curmudgeon in me. Last fall I made a sardonic comment, if you can imagine me doing so, about how the political season would be resuming in mid-January. I thought at the time that I was only indulging my penchant for amusing, yet harmless, hyperbole... but then our U.S. Senator got kicked upstairs. So we went through weeks of search, only to have our Congressperson promoted in turn.

Now we're engulfed in news stories and ads leading up to the special election in a couple of weeks. And of course, the new reality of political advertising is that it's all about burying the other guy. So we've been treated to the heartwarming spectacle of the young guy saying the old guy is just another political hack (and a liar), and the old guy saying the young businessman is too inexperienced and greedy (and a liar).

Let's see, what's missing from this picture? Nowhere along the way have we heard anything much about what we can expect each guy to do; the theme is, whatever you do, don't vote for the other guy. Strangely enough, the American electorate seems to be heeding the warnings. I think it's true that negative advertising works: when faced with the constant barrage of don't-vote-for-the-other-guy, voters have seemingly resolved not to vote at all.

I'm not kidding myself that much has changed throughout the nation's history. From what tidbits I know, political campaigns have been brutally personal since day one. But I still believe that a candidate who stood up and was truthful with the public, who talked about what can realistically be done, who shared real ideas, could get elected.

I don't want to hear that everything can be fixed in a couple weeks, because I know it can't. And I don't want to hear that the other guy's an idiot or a criminal, because (at least for the most part!) it's not true. I want a candidate to say: my opponent is a good person with the best interests of the country at heart; still, I believe s/he is mistaken about "X", and here's my better idea. At this point it's highly possible that I may vote for whichever guy comes out first with a positive message about himself.

In a way it reminds me of my favorite business philosophy. Another frequent news feature over recent months concerns businesses that have cut corners or even made up stuff in an effort to make more money. Of course, I've been part of the corporate world for more than 11 years now, and while the cynical view of corporate America is very popular, I have to say that I've never seen it. I work for one of the acknowledged top countries on the integrity scale; one of the proudest days of my career was a meeting with an executive several years back (before my little company got swallowed by the gigantic one, actually).

The exec stood in the front of the room and said, "We want to make a lot of money, and we need to continue to grow our income. The best way for us to do that is to produce the best product we can, and give our customers excellent service."

I suppose I'm starting to sound like next I'll be summoning the woodland creatures to help clean the house, but doesn't it seem like it ought to be possible to succeed in business, or politics, just by being yourself really really well, and doing it with integrity?

Now if you'll excuse me I have to run -- if I hurry, I can still catch that turnip truck I just fell off.