You really have to like the Grateful Dead to stomach their music. Their performances wander all over, their vocals aren’t too tight, and their creative catalogue is pretty limited. You have to truly buy into the idea that they’re a great band and want to like them, because when you listen closely, their music begins to suck pretty fast.
I’m told that if you’re stoned, the Grateful Dead don’t sound so bad. When touring fans gathered to follow shows until Jerry Garcia died in 1995, the stoned ones experienced the shows in a completely different way. Since the recreational drugs dismissed functions like critical thinking and objectivity, a Dead set took on religious and near-mystical undertones. I can empathize with a sober fan listening to one of their less polished performances, because of the church I attend.
For the last year, I’ve been visiting a local congregation, who remind me recently of stoned fans at a Dead show. I’ve been told their current preacher is "powerful, inspired, and moving," but as a sober fan listening objectively from the audience, I don’t see it. I see a preacher who tells cute stories and spends over 80% of his teaching time speaking as if to a child, but I see no substance. It is deeply depressing to watch people eagerly nodding their heads, when he’s not really saying anything.
In the public speaking world, the best presenters always do three things: educate, entertain, and inspire. After attending the funeral of a close friend’s father, I’ve seen this model even applied appropriately to a eulogy by both a skilled pastor and a grieving son–each delivering their messages in a way far more meaningful than the Deadhead pastor. Educate only, and bore the audience. Entertain only, and wear the shoes of a clown. Inspire alone, and get a spot on Dr. Phil. When all three are appropriately in balance, a good public speaker can change people’s lives.
I recently sat in a specialist’s waiting room before a blood test and overheard an incredibly unsettling conversation. A telecomm technician was there on a service call and briefly triggered the intercom, clearly broadcasting my doctor’s private argument with an unknown colleague. "I have NO IDEA, all right? YOU try to figure out what’s killing the poor bastard. I’M–SIIICK–OF–GUESSIIIING." The volume on the intercom dropped quickly when the tech realized he’d crossed lines, but not before I heard my Doc tell the other "I’ll figure out something convincing to tell him." I got up and left. The receptionist didn’t seem to blame me.
I played that snippet of audio over and over in my head, and began to hear it spoken in the voice of the Deadhead pastor. Would the pastor’s intercom tell a similar story if it could, or did the pastor believe his own hype? The Sunday sermon crowd still seems hooked on every word. I don’t know if they will ever experience their own "intercom moment," but I really hope it happens soon.
I don’t hate music because the Grateful Dead are an over-hyped disappointment, but I’m a lot more likely to listen to Phish. I’m not disinterested in God because of a completely ineffective pastor who has many people fooled, but I’d really rather learn from one of my past teachers. I haven’t stopped being amazed by the ability of modern medicine to cure weird unknown ailments, but I do have a new doctor.
As I left the waiting room and got into my little car, I thumbed through my iPod to look for a song I hadn’t heard in over a decade. It never occurred to me what John Popper of Blues Traveler meant when he sang "Hook," but it makes total sense as I think of the Dead, the Pastor, and my ex-Doctor. It’s easy to fool an audience if you sound sincere, and if your audience has already decided you’re the greatest, there’s very little you can say to change their minds...unless the intercom is on.
Blues Traveler performing "Hook" may be watched at the following YouTube link...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdz5kCaCRFM
I’m told that if you’re stoned, the Grateful Dead don’t sound so bad. When touring fans gathered to follow shows until Jerry Garcia died in 1995, the stoned ones experienced the shows in a completely different way. Since the recreational drugs dismissed functions like critical thinking and objectivity, a Dead set took on religious and near-mystical undertones. I can empathize with a sober fan listening to one of their less polished performances, because of the church I attend.
For the last year, I’ve been visiting a local congregation, who remind me recently of stoned fans at a Dead show. I’ve been told their current preacher is "powerful, inspired, and moving," but as a sober fan listening objectively from the audience, I don’t see it. I see a preacher who tells cute stories and spends over 80% of his teaching time speaking as if to a child, but I see no substance. It is deeply depressing to watch people eagerly nodding their heads, when he’s not really saying anything.
In the public speaking world, the best presenters always do three things: educate, entertain, and inspire. After attending the funeral of a close friend’s father, I’ve seen this model even applied appropriately to a eulogy by both a skilled pastor and a grieving son–each delivering their messages in a way far more meaningful than the Deadhead pastor. Educate only, and bore the audience. Entertain only, and wear the shoes of a clown. Inspire alone, and get a spot on Dr. Phil. When all three are appropriately in balance, a good public speaker can change people’s lives.
I recently sat in a specialist’s waiting room before a blood test and overheard an incredibly unsettling conversation. A telecomm technician was there on a service call and briefly triggered the intercom, clearly broadcasting my doctor’s private argument with an unknown colleague. "I have NO IDEA, all right? YOU try to figure out what’s killing the poor bastard. I’M–SIIICK–OF–GUESSIIIING." The volume on the intercom dropped quickly when the tech realized he’d crossed lines, but not before I heard my Doc tell the other "I’ll figure out something convincing to tell him." I got up and left. The receptionist didn’t seem to blame me.
I played that snippet of audio over and over in my head, and began to hear it spoken in the voice of the Deadhead pastor. Would the pastor’s intercom tell a similar story if it could, or did the pastor believe his own hype? The Sunday sermon crowd still seems hooked on every word. I don’t know if they will ever experience their own "intercom moment," but I really hope it happens soon.
I don’t hate music because the Grateful Dead are an over-hyped disappointment, but I’m a lot more likely to listen to Phish. I’m not disinterested in God because of a completely ineffective pastor who has many people fooled, but I’d really rather learn from one of my past teachers. I haven’t stopped being amazed by the ability of modern medicine to cure weird unknown ailments, but I do have a new doctor.
As I left the waiting room and got into my little car, I thumbed through my iPod to look for a song I hadn’t heard in over a decade. It never occurred to me what John Popper of Blues Traveler meant when he sang "Hook," but it makes total sense as I think of the Dead, the Pastor, and my ex-Doctor. It’s easy to fool an audience if you sound sincere, and if your audience has already decided you’re the greatest, there’s very little you can say to change their minds...unless the intercom is on.
Blues Traveler performing "Hook" may be watched at the following YouTube link...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdz5kCaCRFM
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