The other night I dreamed that I was in a rhythm and blues nightclub, enjoying the sounds. Out of the blue (and the club was predominantly blue - blue walls, blue lighting, blue tables), one of the band members hauls me up on stage and asks me to sing along with them as they perform "Gimmee Some God."
Gamely, I belt out the sweet soulful notes, in hand-clapping, shouting and screaming Southern Gospel style:
"Gimmee some God,
(oh, gimmee some god)
Gimmee that sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet God
Lord He's so fine
(he's so fine)
He's so sweet and fine
So very very sweet and fine
Now when that Lord
Hops down the street
He's got a beat
That's quite unique
Gimmee some God
(gimmee some God)
Gimmee some sweet, sweet, God
Gimmee that god, god, god, god, godddddddddd"
The bits in parenthesis were sung by a really deep baritone who accompanied me.
After the song, I feel the need to editorialize:
"Now, I've got to tell you, I'm not a religious man, but that is a great song." Even as I was saying it, I was thinking to myself, "Argh, why do you always have to push your views into affairs like this? Is it that important that people know you're not a Christian?"
Fortunately, no one takes it the wrong way, and I'm treated warmly for the rest of the night, which seems to stretch on forever...or at least until my alarm goes off and I wake up.