More on Black-Eyed Peas

I have been hearing from several about how bad my "black-eyed peas" analogy was last weekend. Here's the word from one concerned member:

"I don't think it is very fair for you to be pushing black eyed peas on your congregation. Every since Sunday, my mother has been cooking black eyes peas and "jumpin jack jumbalaya". She seems to have picked up on a southern accent as well, most likely from Louisiana. I, on the other hand, have been hungry since Sunday since I don't eat black eyes peas."

Sorry to have caused so much heartache among us.

(For those of you who weren't there, we talked about sowing for the future vs. eating all our black-eyed peas today.)

On the other hand, the idea of investment and "paying it forward" continues to amaze me. If you were for example, to take what you spend in Cable fees every month (2005 average = $43) and invest it monthly at 8% for 25 years--any idea how much you would accumulate? Just a paltry $41,167.

I know it's a painful thought. But there you have it. Gotta go. My wife is calling and I think she's cooked some black-eyed peas.

Grampy regarding the Grammys

Being music lovers, Becki and I watched a bit of the Grammys Sunday night. Each year I hope for a bright spot, some new talent or gifted artisan that can really sing or play. But once again, I was disappointed overall. It seems that the value of true artistry has been replaced with "the strange" laced with political overtones.

Political statements in pop music is not a new idea. Songs and artists of the 60's were filled with anti-war themes and the call for a new age where the world gets together in a big group hug to sing about love. But what's disappointing with this year's grammys is that music seems to be suffering. I'm no top-selling artist, but I've never heard so much bad singing. Is pitch just not important anymore? And the duets! What happened to harmonizing and staying in-tune at the same time? Besides that, the artists don't seem to care whether you understand them or not. (Several times, a whole verse went by before I understood one word.)

When the song of the year is "Rehab" by Amy Winehouse, you have to ask yourself, "Who votes for these people?" There was one halfway bright spot with Herbie Hancock's win. At least the whole world hasn't gone lu-lu.

As I say these things, I can't help but wonder if I've just officially crossed over to the age where we all eventually land--the place where we say, "What happened to real music. I can't understand the words to this new stuff."