My mom still goes there, and so do my buddies Bruno and Leon and Stu. Attendance has been dwindling for years, though, as the old folks die off, and the young folks move away. The sanctuary seats about 600, and another couple of hundred could squeeze into the balcony, but there's only a few dozen people most Sundays.
The church has been at that corner since the late 1800s, when the neighborhood was of quite a different hue, but the church remains white. Black people do attend now and again, for a few weeks or months. The congregation isn't particularly racist — and hands are shaken and I think they're sincerely welcoming — but like a lot of old white people, the church's elders are uncomfortable around the 'coloreds', and I imagine the blacks folks can sense it, so they drift away.
It's a wonderful old building, though, full of cavernous, rarely-used rooms, enormous exedrae, musty memories, and forgotten back hallways where months might go by with nobody walking. When I was a kid, sometimes I climbed into a hidden loft above the sanctuary, where I could make unseen faces at the preacher and nobody's see me.
In my dream, the now-adult me decided to explore those neglected parts of the building, but the layout kept changing. There was a new, twisting passageway in the back of the sanctuary, where the nursery used to be, and I sorta got lost back there.A staircase leads down to the kitchen, and I thought I'd go downstairs and raid the fridge, but instead of a kitchen I walked into a belly dance class, taught by Mrs Amos. She was a particularly fuddy-duddy seventy-something spinster who thought pre-marital kissing was a sin, and who, in the real world, died twenty years ago.
Suddenly a bell rang, like the bell between classes at school, and people came pouring into the hallways — people I remembered from eighteen years of going to church there. These were people I haven't seen or even thought about in years — an old friend of my father's, an ex-pastor's cute daughter, and a grumpy old cuss who'd always hollered at me for running in the foyer, even when I wasn't running. And a hundred others, and oh Christ, there's my mother!
I knew she'd nag at me for not calling, so I quickly ducked into the belly dancing room, hoping she hadn't seen me, and though the church blueprints would prove it's impossible, the door behind the belly dancers opened directly onto the raised stage in the sanctuary.
The pastor came over and took me by the hand, led me to the pulpit, and introduced me as the guest speaker. Every pew was filled (which at this church, happens only at Easter and Christmas), and I was supposed to preach a sermon, but had nothing prepared.
But unlike the typical dream, there was no stage fright. Hell, no. This was an opportunity that could only come in a dream — to speak the truth in a place where the truth can never be spoken.
I leaned into the microphone, coughed for clarity, and said, "There is no God and it's all bullshit!"
My voice echoed back to me, as the congregation sat open-mouthed and shocked, so I continued: "Jesus, your Lord and Savior? He died 2,000 years ago! Give it a few days of mourning and get on with your lives, because he's dead and he's not coming back!"
The multitudes rose as one to smite me, so I quickly exited stage left, down a hallway to a back door that opened on the parking lot, and the 7-Eleven behind the church, because I desperately needed a Big Gulp.
But again, the architecture was all wrong. Instead of the parking lot, the hallway led only to more hallways, and with every turn I was more and more lost in a building that seemed much larger and more confusing than the church I grew up in.
And then things got crazier and more confused, and I think I got shot in the face by the church's gun- and Bible-toting security guard, who after shooting me said he'd pray for me.
Sorry I can't remember much about how the dream ended, but that's the nature of dreams. When I woke up I touched my face, happy to find it was still there and unshot, unbloodied.
Still wanted a Big Gulp, but they cost money so I settled for a tall glass of vaguely rusted tap water, as I typed up everything I could remember from the dream.
And now I'm sitting here, thinking about that old church and the people who went there. I'm not a believer any more if I ever was, but it was a decent church, full of decent people. It was never one of those Republican hellholes of hate.
And what a great building, too. If I had a million bucks or whatever, it's been an occasional daydream to buy that old castle of Christ, hold a big clearance sale on crosses and hymnals, turn the Sunday School rooms into a homeless shelter, give the giant kitchen and dining room to Food Not Bombs, and maybe turn the sanctuary and balcony into an old-style movie palace. Our first booking would be The Last Temptation of Christ, since it angered the pastor so.
And also, sign me up for those belly dance classes in the basement.
From Pathetic Life #20
Thursday, January 18, 1996
This
is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago,
called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but
might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting
things, so parental guidance is advised.
Doug, some time ago you asked me to name my favorite Leonard Cohen songs. And to name the longest Leonard Cohen song. I can't find that question in the proceedings, so I'll answer it here. What the hell, listening to Leonard is a little like going to church.
ReplyDeleteFavorite songs:
Suzanne, The Stranger Song, Sisters of Mercy, So Long Marianne, Hey That’s No Way to Say Goodbye, Bird on the Wire, Story of Isaac, The Partisan, Seems So Long Ago Nancy, Famous Blue Raincoat, Joan of Arc, Chelsea Hotel #2, Who By Fire, Dance Me to the End of Love, Hallelujah, If it be Your Will, First We Take Manhattan, Ain’t No Cure For Love, Everybody Knows, I’m Your Man, Tower of Song, The Future, Anthem, Democracy, and In My Secret Life, not necessarily in that order.
Leonard’s longest song depends on the night and the audience. Other than that, I don’t care.
I'm not prompt, but I try to be complete. Usually I fail, but I love each of those songs.
John
Mine's probably The Future, or Everybody Knows... Anthem, if I'm in that mood.
DeleteThe man wrote good lyrics. That's what gets me, maybe more than the singing.
All good choices. Hard to go wrong with Leonard. I'd add The Smokey Life from Recent Songs to the list.
DeleteChelsea Hotel #2 ranks as my favorite song of all-time. I related so hard to the second verse. "I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel/ you were famous, your heart was a legend/told me again you preferred handsome men/ but for me you would make an exception/and clenching your fists for the ones like us who are oppressed by the figures of beauty/you fixed yourself, you said never mind/we are ugly but we have the music." -- Arden
I was generally disappointed in New Skin for the Old Ceremony after the first three killer albums, but "Who By Fire" and especially "Chelsea Hotel #2" knocked me out.
DeleteThen Leonard started hanging around with Phil Spector, which I think he later admitted was a mistake. It took him a while to find his voice again.
John
Phil Spector? Yikes, was Ike Turner unavailable?
DeleteWhile we're all talking about how great Cohen was, and he was, I'll confess that I've sometimes giggled at how *bad* a few of his songs are. The Day They Wounded New York, Jazz Police...
Everybody has a bad day now and then.
He was willing to look silly trying to tell the truth -- he was willing to take risks with his heart. A few singers are also artists, and Leonard was one. That put him in a position to ask Phil Spector to produce one of his albums and David Crosby to produce another. He left Crosby after one song, but stayed with Phil through an entire album, partly because Phil pulled a gun and pointed it at Leonard's heart. Leonard didn't carry.
DeleteJohn
And I'd rather talk about Leonard, but sometime we should talk about Ike Turner and Rocket 88.
Deletejtb
Impossible to pick a favorite Cohen song, especially considering the lyrical brilliance. And despite his monotonous voice the musical bedding is surprisingly varied.
DeleteMy favorites:
Avalanche
everything on The Future
everything on Ten New Songs (especially A Thousand Kisses Deep)
If I had to pick a single song, it might be Nightingale from Dear Heather. The lyrics destroy me.
He's so much better than Dylan, et al it's not even a discussion worth having, though I've had it many times with friends.
No argument from me. Dylan's better than most, but has a frickin' library of songs gone wrong. Cohen has a drawer of them, perhaps.
DeleteI'll just slip this little historical comment in here. Dylan and Leonard were friends and admired each other's work. Because of their travel schedules they only got together every two or three years, but they stayed in touch pretty much until the end. Leonard was always grateful to Dylan for making Hallelujah part of his live act. Dylan sang that song for ten years before anybody else bothered to record it, and nearly twenty years before it exploded. Leonard was always the poor Canadian cousin, Un Canadien errant, but Dylan never treated him that way. In many ways, Leonard was the guy Dylan pretended to be.
DeleteJohn
Mr Dillon's done a lot of pretending. Some great songs, some good songs, and whole lot that are neither. Cohen has a much better batting average, and more RBIs too.
DeleteFuck it, let's just post random lyrics, Doug'll love that
ReplyDeleteI built my house beside the wood
So I could hear you singing
And it was sweet and it was good
And love was all beginning
Fare thee well my nightingale
It was long ago I found you
Now all your songs of beauty fail
The forest closes 'round you
The sun goes down behind a veil
It's now that you would call me
So rest in peace my nightingale
Beneath your branch of holly
Fare thee well my nightingale
It was long ago I found you
Now all your songs of beauty fail
The forest closes 'round you
Fare thee well my nightingale
I lived but to be near you
Tho' you are singing somewhere still
I can no longer hear you
Doug *does* love the lyrics festival. Many of these songs are new to me, and for me the lyrics matter almost or as much or more than the tune or instruments. Seeing the lyrics tells me 60% of whether I'll like the song.
DeleteI'll be pouring through all of these, and be surprised if some don't get added to my perpetual playlist, so THANKS ALL.
Nonsense prevails, modesty fails
ReplyDeleteGrace and virtue turn into stupidity
While the calendar fades almost all barricades to a pale compromise
And our leaders have feasts on the backsides of beasts
They still think they're the gods of antiquity
If something you missed didn't even exist
It was just an ideal, is it such a surprise?
What shall we do, what shall we do with all this useless beauty?
All this useless beauty
Elvis Costello
Last night I dreamed that I was a child
ReplyDeleteOut where the pines grow wild and tall
I was trying to make it home through the forest
Before the darkness falls
I heard the wind rustling through the trees
And ghostly voices rose from the fields
I ran with my heart pounding down that broken path
With the devil snapping at my heels
I broke through the trees and there in the night
My father's house stood shining hard and bright
The branches and brambles tore my clothes and scratched my arms
But I ran 'til I fell shaking in his arms
I awoke and I imagined, the hard things that pulled us apart
Will never again, sir, tear us from each other's hearts
I got dressed and to that house, I did ride
From out on the road I could see its windows shining in light
I walked up the steps and stood on the porch
A woman I didn't recognize came and spoke to me through a chained door
I told her my story and who I'd come for
She said "I'm sorry son but no one by that name lives here anymore"
My father's house shines hard and bright
It stands like a beacon calling me in the night
Calling and calling, so cold and alone
Shining 'cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned
Springsteen
You're the last person I will love
ReplyDeleteYou're the last face I will recall
And best of all
I'm not gonna miss you
Not gonna miss you
I'm never gonna hold you like I did
Or say, "I love you" to the kids
You're never gonna see it in my eyes
It's not gonna hurt me when you cry
I'm never gonna know what you go through
All the things I say or do
All the hurt and all the pain
One thing selfishly remains
I'm not gonna miss you
I'm not gonna miss you
Glen Campbell
The context - his awareness of his own Alzheimer's - is what makes this one amazing
Jeez, that's tremendous.
DeleteAnd I wasn't born o! A welldigger
ReplyDeleteAnd I wasn't born o! A fleshy thing
And I wasn't born a thing to be scorned
A thing to be ignored
And I will align myself with nothing
And I will enjoin my heart with no-one's
Cause I was untried
When I was applied the light of birth
Will Oldham
Gun to my head (probably pointed by Phil Spector): Bird on the Wire, Tower of Song. and Hey That's No Way to Say Goodbye. Hard to beat the jew's harp. And I'd throw in Suzanne at no additional charge.
ReplyDeleteJohn
I'd like to say
ReplyDeleteA few words
In defense of our country
Whose people aren't bad
Nor are they mean
Now, the leaders we have
While they're the worst that we've had
Are hardly the worst
This poor world has seen
Let's turn history's pages, shall we?
Take the Caesars, for example
Why, with the first few of them
They were sleeping with their sister, stashing little boys in swimming pools, and burning down the city
And one of 'em, one of 'em appointed his own horse to be Counsel of the Empire
That's like vice president or something
That's not a very good example right now, is it?
But here's one:
Spanish Inquisition
That's a good one
Put people in a terrible position
I don't even like to think about it
Well, sometimes I like to think about it
Just a few words
In defense of our country
Whose time at the top
Could be coming to an end
Now, we don't want their love
And respect at this point's pretty much out of the question
But in times like these
We sure could use a friend
Hitler
Stalin
Men who need no introduction
King Leopold of Belgium, that's right
Everyone thinks he's so great
Well, he owned the Congo
He tore it up too
Took the diamonds
Took the silver
Took the gold
You know what he left 'em with?
Malaria
You know, a president once said, "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself"
Now it seems like we're supposed to be afraid
It's patriotic, in fact
Color-coded
What we supposed to be afraid of?
Why, of being afraid
That's what terror means, doesn't it?
That's what it used to mean
You know, it pisses me off a little that this Supreme Court's gonna outlive me
Couple young Italian fellas and a brother on the Court now too
But I defy you, anywhere in the world, to find me two Italians as tight ass as the two Italians we got
And as for the brother
Well, Pluto's not a planet anymore either
The end of an empire
Is messy at best
And this empire's ending
Like all the rest
Like the Spanish Armada
Adrift on the sea
We're adrift in the land of the brave
And the home of the free
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
The great Randy Newman
His phrasing and emphasis in this performance are fucking hilarious:
Deletehttps://youtu.be/E0EAwSpTcM4
His delivery of "Well, sometimes I like to think about it" cracks me up. He's a genius, even if he comes from a generations-spanning family of the rich and privileged.
"And as for the brother
DeleteWell, Pluto's not a planet anymore either"
Motherfucking vicious and right on and funny as fuck. Newman may be a rich kid but he's got balls the size of the sun.
How have I never heard this until this morning?
DeleteIf you have more, please don't stop the lyrics!
There are lots of fabulous things I'd do if I had money, but it's more my tiny balls that hold me back.
DeleteWell I'm upper-upper class high society
DeleteGod's gift to ballroom notoriety
And I always fill my ballroom
The event is never small
The social pages say I've got
The biggest balls of all
I've got big balls
I've got big balls
They're such big balls
And they're dirty big balls
And he's got big balls
And she's got big balls
(But we've got the biggest balls of them all)
And my balls are always bouncing
My ballroom always full
And everybody comes and comes again
If your name is on the guest list
No one can take you higher
Everybody says I've got
Great balls of fire
I've got big balls
Oh, I've got big balls
And they're such big balls
Dirty big balls
And he's got big balls
And she's got big balls
(But we've got the biggest balls of them all)
Some balls are held for charity
And some for fancy dress
But when they're held for pleasure
They're the balls that I like best
My balls are always bouncing
To the left and to the right
It's my belief that my big balls
Should be held every night (oh)
We've got big balls
We've got big balls
We've got big balls
Dirty big balls
He's got big balls
She's got big balls
(But we've got the biggest balls of them all)
And I'm just itching to tell you about them (we've got big balls)
(We've got big balls) Oh, we had such wonderful fun (we've got big balls)
Seafood cocktail, crabs (we've got big balls)
Crayfish (but we've got the biggest balls of them all)
Irving Berlin
(just kidding, it's AC/DC)
You can't go wrong with Randy Newman as far as I'm concerned. He may be my favorite lyricist. Very challenging because more often than not he assumes a character for the song's POV, and more often than not it's an unpleasant character. In today's "climate" especially that sort of thing is frowned upon (if it's even understood) when everyone is supposed to wear their political stripes like an unambiguous athletic uniform. He's the rare satirist whose humor is not not just genuinely subversive but also terribly sad.
DeleteSongs like Sail Away (once you realize what it's about), Rednecks, God's Song, Shame, Political Science, It's Money That Matters, My Life Is Good, I Want You to Hurt Like I Do, I Want Everyone to Like Me, scores of others, all really complex and disturbing and funny.
And the he does more or less straight love songs, as mournful and melancholy as Cohen, like Every Time it Rains, I Think It's Going To Rain Today, etc.
https://www.youtube.com/@randynewman
I loved "I Love L.A." despite hating L.A., so I guess I love Newman. Just haven't given him much thought or eartime in the past 30 years, which I'll now attempt to rectify.
DeleteHaven't even played the song yet, but I just Googled the lyrics to "Sail Away" and holy shit.
DeleteRandy Newman arrived on the scene at the beginning of the singer/songwriter era, the same time Leonard Cohen made his American appearance. Newman tiptoed in with "I Think It's Going to Rain Today" in 1968. A lovely song in just about every way. Two years later he popped up again with "Mama Told Me Not to Come", a singer/songwriter rocker, and two years after that he broke down the door with "Sail Away". I, along with just about everybody I knew bought that album, and Randy Newman became a presence.
DeleteDoug, you surely know his family from all those movies. Randy carved his own path, and remained a hell of a songwriter. I think my favorite is "Louisiana 1927" off his fourth album, Good Old Boys, which I think is considered his breakthrough album because it sold well. As far as I was concerned, he'd already broken through.
jtb
Part 2. Newman released his fifth album with The Eagles as his backup band. It's nice to have connections. I don't know why he thought he could get away with "Short People". A country that elected Richard Nixon as President twice would comprehend neither an attack on stereotypes nor the use of irony. So he took some shit and kept writing. Still is all these years later.
DeleteNo reason to compare him with Cohen. Leonard was never as hip or as rich as Randy, and Randy will never be as romantic or as cosmic as Leonard. But Randy is a professional songwriter who didn't burn out and never really went out of fashion, partly because he was one of the creators of fashion.
John
Listening to Sail Away now, I think I've heard it once or twice before, but barely. I remember Short People, of course, but never heard I Think It's Going to Rain Today until today, and it's raining. Also didn't know he'd written Mama Told Me Not to Come, and I don't know anything about Randy Newman's family.
DeleteYou have one of his uncles on your play list today.
Deletejtb
Don't sleep on Randy's 1999 album Bad Love, which has some terrific songs on it. "The World Isn't Fair" is brilliant in so many ways. "I'm Dead (But I Don't Know It)" is spot-on for most performers. "Big Hat, No Cattle" could be the George Santos theme song if he could ever deserve anything as meaningful as music in his life. "My Country" expresses Randy and everyone's love for TV. As he wrote in his press kit for the album (which really should have come with the album for everyone) and in interviews, that when his kids come over he's always glad to see them, but also thinking he wouldn't mind going back to watch Matlock now. "I Want You to Hurt Like I Do" could be the Repugnant Party's National Anthem if they had any self-awareness. "Shame" is every rich man with a young girl. Just brilliant stuff. -- Arden
DeleteHe's related to Alfred?
DeleteI've been spinning the album (digitally) for an hour, and yeah, good stuff. I am especially impressed with "The World Isn't Fair," which kinda matches my perspective even though I'd never thought it through.
DeleteYes, Alfred is his uncle. Most of the family is in the scoring business, which probably sounds like more fun than it is.
DeleteJohn
Uncle Alfred and Uncle Lionel probably gave little Randy a flute and a head start. Nepotism is a grand advantage in the arts.
DeletePretty sure that's not the same Alfred who belched "It's a Gas," though.
This is the comment stream following a Pathetic Life post although it has ranged widely. The photo of your church reminded me just a little of my church. Mine was a Methodist Church before the merger, so not a United Methodist Church until I was on the way out. And judging from the architecture, mine was a little older: When I read Umberto's The Name of the Rose, I was reminded of the old church, with its meandering hallways and catacomb-like secret locked rooms. They tore down the old church in the 70s, ten years after they built the expensive, new modernistic church and ten years before the congregation left to join the megachurches in the suburbs. Now they can't afford to heat the sanctuary, or so I'm told. My parents were married in that old church in 1939, and I attended Sunday School there throughout the 50s and 60s. As I've noted, I got a little taste of Almond Roca in the condemned but comfortable balcony of the old sanctuary and wandered the dusty, forgotten halls of the building like one of the Hardy Boys. My mother won the Tacoma city badminton championship in the church gym in the 30s, and I pretended to play basketball there as a tyke in the 60s. Wonderful architecture. A firetrap, but wonderful architecture.
ReplyDeleteJohn
The church gym? Jeez, I have never known a church that had a gym. I'm guessing yours was much bigger than ours. Ours had a basketball hoop in the parking lot.
DeleteThe picture isn't the actual church, just an approximation. I hardly ever have photos of anything real.
Loved all the old hallways rarely trod through and old classrooms simply never used. Tearing 'em down seems almost as sad as ripping down old movie palaces, though of course the movie palace memories are much warmer and more sincere.
Took a trip to Victoria BC once with the family, and we churched in some ENORMOUS downtown church that made ours seem tiny. Man, I wanted to go exploring in that church, but Mom & Dad held my hand and wouldn't allow it.
Yeah, a full wood-floor basketball court, net mountings for badminton, lots of equipment and balls, and a balcony for 50 or 60 observers. We had volunteer coaches from the University of Puget Sound (a Methodist University) in several sports.
DeleteThe building also had separate Sunday School rooms for every age level up to 12 and Junior High and High School activity groups. The sanctuary must have held 700-800 people including the balconies, and they packed 'em in in the 50s and well into the 60s. By 1980, the building was torn down in favor of a modern (or post-modern) edifice and attendance was under 100. The neighborhood had changed and most of the members had moved to the suburbs and joined megachurches. I was gone too.
John
Sounds about the same size as our church, with about the same number of classrooms and meeting rooms, but we never had a gym or anything like it. We had a church basketball team, but they practices and played at the local junior high.
DeleteChurches do seem to dwindle. Almost like they're not really powered by God, but by people who get distracted by life and wander away.
Had a lovely chat today about a church in my old denomination — not the one I attended, but the next closest one — where attendance dwindled so small that they finally closed the place. Nothing warms my soul more than a shuttered church.
My parents came of age during the great depression. The church my mom attended served the entire community. There was no religious test for those who came to recreate themselves in the gym. Most of them, like Mom, had tennis shoes stuffed with newspaper to cushion the holes. Churches sometimes serve community needs with or without God. I left when it was time to go, but I am proud of the legacy of the place the church held in the part of Tacoma I still call home. Today the church has a lesbian minister and a gay youth leader. I only know this because of their web site, but it sounds like they're still doing good work with or without heavenly guidance.
DeleteI'm not preaching -- just sharing.
John
Sounds like one of those pinko radical churches that remembers things Jesus said.
DeleteBest I can say for the church I grew up in is, they weren't openly evil or hostile to people who were different. But "serve community needs with or without God"? I'm having a hard time remembering when the church I attended did anything like that.
They operated a day care beginning in the 1980s, and some of the non-churchy neighbors used it and no doubt appreciated it. They had to pay, though, and the kids had to sit through Bible lessons and kiddie hymns so I don't think it counts as any kind of good deed.
I want to be clear that I'm not saying that the church as my mother experienced it was still opening its facilities to all comers when I was there. But the thirties were a dark time, and members felt a call to reach out to their community, much of which was half starving. Today they do run a food bank that gives what they have to whoever walks in the door, and we were certainly taught to help not just the poor in spirit, but also the poor in wallet. I'm also saying that there are good and bad aspects to local churches and I've seen both. We all went out and trick or treated for UNICEF without announcing we were Methodists or even Christians, which I never was, even if I knew the first couple of verses of Holy, Holy, Holy. I'm reluctant to admit I still do, but my song is much more likely to rise to Leonard Cohen.
DeleteJohn
It's getting late. I do believe it's time for bed. I look forward to conversing with you whenever tomorrow morning is.
Deletejtb
Much as I disbelieve, I still respect Christians who seem somewhat Christ-adjacent. That was my impression of the church I grew up in, and yours sounds similar. Opening the gym for everyone — that seems Christian in the Christian sense of the word.
DeleteI wonder, though, what wen through the elders' minds when they decided the Depression was over, so they should cancel the open gym time, and reserve it for churchers only.
Still, to my knowledge, what your church did was better than anything my church ever did.
Brief naps are allowed.
DeleteHey, John — Rolling around on the bus yesterday, we went past a big Salvation Army church that had one entry marked 'chapel' and the other was marked 'gym'. The gym looked bigger than the chapel.
DeleteI hate the Salvation Army for other reasons, but that's kinda cool and I'd never seen a church gym before.
It's probably useful to remember that there weren't always fancy gyms that charge by the month on every corner, nor basketball hoops in every park.
DeleteIt wasn't an easy thing to find a place to recreate yourself.
That's how the YMCA invented basketball and built workout facilities in hundreds of cities across the country.
In the early 20th century, a few churches in many cities built exercise facilities to attract parishioners. When my Mom was growing up, that was literally the only place she could afford to work out. She learned badminton there and got really good at it. I never really asked her, but I don't think she bought a bit of the religions dogma. When my sis and I stopped attending church, Mom dropped it like a hot potato. Girls just wanna have fun.
John
It's just good marketing.
DeleteI'm not a gym guy, but for a while my wife and I had a membership. And I am also not a Jesus guy, but if a church had given us free gym access, and the sermons on Sunday weren't *too* awful and onerous, maybe we would've gone.
We *did* go to church a few times, just for the hell of it.
Dougles, the difference between writers and very good writers is the last line of your comment. Thanks.
Deletejtb