It’s only May, but already 2012 has marked itself as a year for changing seasons. A new job, a new ministry, a new brother in law and a new choir. What else can possibly happen?
Well… a new church.
Okay, not actually a new church, more a return to an old one. A few weeks ago I was approached by the leadership at my old stomping grounds Darwin Memorial Uniting Church with a distress call. The incumbent organist has left to be with his family in Melbourne. I’ve been asked to move in and take over the running of the worship team there, which will be exciting and challenging. So the time has come to move.
It will be an interesting change shifting from a contemporary Pentecostal congregation to a more conservative Uniting Church congregation, but one of the advantages of being me is that I’m equally at home in either one. It’s one of the great side effects of NOT BEING PLANTED.
I’m still phasing myself out of Abundant Life church, so I haven’t quite taken up residence at DMUC yet. I’ll be there from July, after I get back from my sister’s wedding. So really, this post should have been saved up until then. But I don’t really have anything else to write about this week. So… yeah.
Make of that what you will.
Garry with 2 Rs
15 May 2012
04 May 2012
Cheater's Guilt
I don’t know how it came to this.
I’ve been with Samantha for a long time now. It’s been ten great years. Sometimes it seems like forty (even though I’m only twenty-mumble years old) and sometimes it seems like just two weeks, like we’re only just getting to know each other all over again. Every week we’re discovering new sounds, new ideas and new ways to complement each other. I never fail to be amazed by what happens when we’re together, and she’s always been there for me.
There was a time when the comforting and familiar straight lines of her silver casing would bring a smile to my face as I wandered back home after a hard day of doing … whatever it is I do, to say nothing of the joy of turning her on and watching her touch screen light up. Even when other keyboards came along like my old flame Mary, Sasha from the church or even Mary’s successor Marian, it’s always been us; Garry and Samantha. Just a simple guy and his disturbingly anthropomorphised electric piano.
It can happen so fast, can’t it? All it takes is one unexpected meeting; a flash of curvy red chrome across a low lit room, a manual interface that’s so fresh, new and dangerous. And weighted keys. It was just a night of laughs among friends; and then a couple of drinks later, before I even knew what was happening (impro comedy will do that…) I was on stage with my hands on another keyboard. It was all a swirl of lights, passion, retro interfaces and music (obviously). It was so exciting to be lost in another world, just for a night.
God, I didn’t even know her name.
And now I face the long, cold walk back to my flat in Malak. It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t have to know. It doesn’t matter that it was a one time thing. It doesn’t even matter that the long cold walk is in a car, and that the air-con is on because even at half past eleven at night it’s still pretty warm for May. And still raining. How can I be worried about inapplicable environmental metaphors at a time like this?
I know she’ll still be there. I’ll walk in late and the touch screen will light up room like always. But somehow the light will be a little dimmer. The response will be a little less smooth. The rotary speaker effect will be just that little less Waaahwawawawawawaawaawaaawaaaaaaaa-y.
Things will never be the same again.
Garry with 2 Rs
I’ve been with Samantha for a long time now. It’s been ten great years. Sometimes it seems like forty (even though I’m only twenty-mumble years old) and sometimes it seems like just two weeks, like we’re only just getting to know each other all over again. Every week we’re discovering new sounds, new ideas and new ways to complement each other. I never fail to be amazed by what happens when we’re together, and she’s always been there for me.
There was a time when the comforting and familiar straight lines of her silver casing would bring a smile to my face as I wandered back home after a hard day of doing … whatever it is I do, to say nothing of the joy of turning her on and watching her touch screen light up. Even when other keyboards came along like my old flame Mary, Sasha from the church or even Mary’s successor Marian, it’s always been us; Garry and Samantha. Just a simple guy and his disturbingly anthropomorphised electric piano.
It can happen so fast, can’t it? All it takes is one unexpected meeting; a flash of curvy red chrome across a low lit room, a manual interface that’s so fresh, new and dangerous. And weighted keys. It was just a night of laughs among friends; and then a couple of drinks later, before I even knew what was happening (impro comedy will do that…) I was on stage with my hands on another keyboard. It was all a swirl of lights, passion, retro interfaces and music (obviously). It was so exciting to be lost in another world, just for a night.
God, I didn’t even know her name.
And now I face the long, cold walk back to my flat in Malak. It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t have to know. It doesn’t matter that it was a one time thing. It doesn’t even matter that the long cold walk is in a car, and that the air-con is on because even at half past eleven at night it’s still pretty warm for May. And still raining. How can I be worried about inapplicable environmental metaphors at a time like this?
I know she’ll still be there. I’ll walk in late and the touch screen will light up room like always. But somehow the light will be a little dimmer. The response will be a little less smooth. The rotary speaker effect will be just that little less Waaahwawawawawawaawaawaaawaaaaaaaa-y.
Things will never be the same again.
Garry with 2 Rs
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