There’s a lot of repetition here, but I once heard a delightful description of praise music as “7-11 music”: that’s 7 words repeated 11 times. 🥁 bum dum tiss. Next time you remember that line in church, any resultant snickering is my fault. Happy Sunday from your resident hippie Episcopalian, whose Father Droppers would have told that joke from the pulpit. (I’ve talked about him on the podcast, in the “Christmas Cupcakes” episode, I do believe. He once whipped off his blessed stole and used it to put out a fire during the Christmas pageant, then bade the two narrating angels, me and his daughter, to continue as if nothing had happened. Man, I miss him.)
There’s a lot of repetition here, but I once heard a delightful description of praise music as “7-11 music”: that’s 7 words repeated 11 times. 🥁 bum dum tiss. Next time you remember that line in church, any resultant snickering is my fault. Happy Sunday from your resident hippie Episcopalian, whose Father Droppers would have told that joke from the pulpit. (I’ve talked about him on the podcast, in the “Christmas Cupcakes” episode, I do believe. He once whipped off his blessed stole and used it to put out a fire during the Christmas pageant, then bade the two narrating angels, me and his daughter, to continue as if nothing had happened. Man, I miss him.)