I went to a friend’s choral concert a couple days ago. It was a beautiful performance, though being in a church always gives me a pause to think. No, not about going to church again – that ship has sailed long ago. Being a Catholic as a child can do that to you, as church is rarely seen as a joy, but rather, a chore.
I did give pause to think briefly about the stunning stained glass behind the altar. First, I’m always amazed that such beautiful things can be created by humans, and this one was particularly striking. Notably, it had a hidden Mickey in it. If you’ve ever been to any Disney property, then you know about hidden Mickeys. It’s the little game the designers play with guests, placing the familiar three round circles that make up Mickey’s silhouette in odd places. I am positive one of these odd places was that Lutheran church.
In the second half of the concert, the choir wanted everyone in the audience to do the heavy lifting. In other words, they wanted us to sing. Now, I didn’t pay my $5 to hear everyone in the audience sing, and this brings me to the Hokey Pokey.
Yes, this is how my brain works: Choir-Church-Mickeys-Heavy Lifting-Hokey Pokey.
As I sat their in the pew, which is a very peculiar word for something that is in the house of God (though it is actually very descriptive of incense), I knew I wouldn’t be singing the songs in the second half. I never do. I don’t do the Chicken Dance, I don’t Hokey Pokey and I don’t sing along.
No, I have never put my left hand in and put my left hand out, I have never shaken it all about. I am Pokeyless.
As I sat there in church, I wondered why. I didn’t do it aloud, mind you, as in “Why God, Why?” Just to myself. I try not to bother God with such seemingly trivial things as why I don’t Hokey Pokey. Especially when I’m in his house. I mean, he has famine and wars to deal with and I’m sure somewhere on his To Do list is the Apocalypse.
I’m not even sure God would like the Hokey Pokey. I don’t think he had any hand in its creation, because if he did, it would probably have other parts to it. For instance, somewhere in it would be: “You make the sign of the cross here, the sign of the cross there, grab the Holy water now and shake it all about.”
You know, if He did create the Hokey Pokey and we had to do this, I would really think about going to church again.
But God doesn’t seem to be the type to play the Hokey Pokey and neither do I. Now, I certainly don’t put myself in the same league as the Godmeister. It’s just that participative performance doesn’t appeal to me.
I know. I’m a performer. A real ham of a performer who loves to get the crowd into my own performance and will do anything imaginable – right up to the Pokey – to get them into the swing of things.
Still, I won’t put anything in or out, at least in public. I confess to putting things in and out in other realms, but I draw the line at doing it in public these days.
This is not to say that I don’t like watching others do the Hokey Pokey. I find it amusing. Not because it is a mass participatory sport, but because someone will inevitably be bad at it. They can’t follow the simple directions and turn about in unison with the rest of the Pokiers. This is terrible fun for me.
The same is true in group sing. Someone invariably will either be out of key or sing a lot more enthusiastically than the rest of the singing hoard. There seems to be something in us that makes us want to do this. It’s just not part of me.
I’ve conjured on this subject quite a bit. I don’t really have an answer for why I can’t be convinced or even browbeat into doing the Chicken Dance or Hokey Pokey. No one yet has been able to get me to do it, even though they have pouted and cajoled, going so far as to use the “but if you loved me…”
Well, obviously I didn’t because I still didn’t Pokey. Looking back, I should have demanded that Hokey be played at each of my weddings. My new bride could have said “but if you loved me…” and the next day I could have just headed off to get an annulment because it would be obvious I did not.
I admit, there is some public pressure involved here. During the group sing, even the Janmeister was singing Blowin’ in the Wind. I just wanted to blow chunks. No, not because the Janmeister sings poorly. She can actually sing quite well, but refuses to believe me.
No, I could see others looking at me, frowning. I like to think it’s because they see that I am brave enough to swim against the strong tides of participation and hold out. Hhm. I guess they could also think that I am just a stuffed shirt, too good to sing along with Mitch.
If they only knew me better. I dress as a pirate for god’s sake. I sing to thousands at a festival or next to no one in a bar. I think it’s safe to say that I exceed the bounds of making an idiot of myself at times, so the Hokey Pokey is actually a bit tame for me.
I must confess, however, that I did do the Electric Slide. Once. But it didn’t count. I wanted to get laid. But no one gets laid for doing the Electric Slide. Or the Hokey Pokey. And that appears to be the reason why I am still Pokey free. I would much rather do the Hokey Pokeme instead.
In the Emerald City, putting something in something else and calling it breakfast,
– Robb