Callier, you already know how I feel about you but you once again cracked Me up.
My own Mother (We do not speak now) used to find a new religion every week. I have to guess that she STILL DOES to this day.
One time.......she took Me to an all black Church in the deep South.
All the women were on one side of the Church.
All the men folk were on the other side.
The Reverend was a ball of wonder and confusion. He was like.....James Brown but add 100 or so pounds.
I didn't know anything about this religion (which I later found out was Baptist).
Black Baptist vs/White Baptist are TOTALLY DIFFERENT!
We were the only white specs in that Church that night.
I had a FREAKING BLAST! I had NEVER and I do mean NEVER witnessed anything like this before in My small life.
It was like a concert. Like a SHOW!
The Reverand 'sang' his sermon.
It was all about 'Namon'. You know, that guy that got dunked under the water or something...
He had beads of sweat on his forehead. I remember that very well!
He had a hankee. He would wipe away the sweat and do a dance. His legs would seem to lose their muscles at certain points.
He would stumble and say:
Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd Namon went down the ONE TIME! (The Ladies of the Church were fanning themselves and saying Amen!)
The men were shouting Preach it Brother!
Anddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd Namon went down the TWO TIME!
LORDY! AMEN! (Shouts resonate througout the small chapel).
Sincerely, this was like the BEST Church experience I ever had next to the time when I visited Aunt Patty (RIP) who took Me to one of those Pentacostal meetings where they had snakes and running in the spirit and speaking in tongues.
Anyway, that black church ROCKED as far as I am concerned. I also liked the Reverends little Ooooooooooo oooooooooooooo's (kind of like Little Richard). It was so awesome!
I will NEVER forget these experiences. I am smiling right now.