On a walk with Sean earlier this week, we had the distinct pleasure of passing a neighborhood church. I go by this church often on walks and runs, and typically have my iPod firmly entrenched in my ears. However, since Sean was with me, I was of course earbud free. We were chattering about nothing of consequence when suddenly, a strange sound filled the air.
Live music. Fall Out Boy’s “Sugar, We’re Going Down” was being belted out, and backed up with drums, a guitar, a bass, and what sounded like a 1984 Casio Keyboard plugged into an amp. Immediately I scoured the area, desperate to find the source. An open door at the backside of the church was my only option, so I bolted to it.
Inside was a group of teenage boys intently practicing the song. There were a few girls sitting in chairs studying while the illustrious noise filled every nook and cranny of the room, so how they were concentrating was not clear. The band seemed to be having a merry time.
I started jumping up and down, ready to cheer them on and give them the start of a fan base outside of the confines of church and high school. Sean, on the other hand, had already backed away and seemed to be waiting for me to do the same. My cheer-leading hopes aside, we kept walking.