Clairdee and Mike Fever

Plotnik and Ducknik went to church this afternoon. They didn't mean to go to church this afternoon, they THOUGHT they were going TO a church to hear Clairedee sing with her piano player husband Ken French, but no. It was something called Jazz Vespers, and that meant in addition to a piano and a microphone there were also collection baskets and a lady reverend and raspberry tea.

Ducknik says it didn't remind her of any church she had ever been to, but it was exactly like EVERY service Plotnik has ever been to, except for the Clairedee part, which was really, really, sweet. She is such a great singer with a voice that cuts to the heart. Every song she sang, Plotnik felt lifted. He wanted to keep feeling lifted, but then Clairedee would sit down and the lady reverend would stand up. Blather blather blather.

What IS it about people of the cloth and Mike Fever? Ministers, priests, rabbis, imams, shamans, they all catch it. Put 'em in front of a crowd and they can't stop talking. Isn't there a shot they can take in Divinity School?

Look. Plotnik has no problem with being reminded to be a good person. He likes doing random acts of kindness from time to time, and if the lady rev thinks giving her meal to a homeless person, the example she used, would make her feel closer to God, then by all means she should do it. The act doesn't bother Plotnik, it's being TOLD he should do it, it's being WHINED AT with such SURETY, and in that Holier Than Plotnik voice, that God will express great happiness if the reverend gives her chicken to a hobo.

That may very well be true, But in Plotnik's mind, the reverend doesn't know for sure. Perhaps she is interrupting some other plan God has in mind for the hobo. Doesn't it make at least some sense that if God wanted that hobo to eat chicken HE could have given that hobo chicken?

No, it doesn't. We have to be part of the loop too. Plotnik knows about the old-time Hasidic exortation of tzedaka, which means giving to those less fortunate than you. He thinks it's a great idea to give chicken to the homeless. He likes making salami sandwiches on sourdough (with dijon) for local guys down on their luck who show up at the door. He has helped prep and serve 80 gallon vats of lentil soup at the local homeless shelter. He doesn't do it nearly often enough, but every time he does it makes him feel better about his ridiculously random good fortune in a world of such visible want. But as far as he's concerned, when he gives chicken to a hobo it's between Plotnik and the hobo and the chicken. It's not the lady rev's business at all.

But it is Clairdee's business. That voice -- she understands. When she sang the words of the fine old Debarge song "All This Love" -- yes. She gets it. When Plotnik hears Clairdee he gets it too.

So The Great Plotnik would like to thank the church for the Jazz Vespers. It was lovely and an act of kindness on your part to let us all in. Next time, though, just let the girl sing. You'll find all the kindness and hopefulness and fellowship anyone needs. That's what music does. May we have an amen?