There have been a handful of times that a church has asked us to spit at their youth group on a subject that we don’t have a piece for. At this point, we scramble to write and memorize a piece that typically turns out good but is more of a one-time-wonder rather than the next “Vintage Boots.”
Last week we went to Knott Ave Christian Church for their Jr. High on Wednesday and High School group on Thursday. Because of the split days we thought it’d be fun to have one person do one piece on Wed and another do another piece on Thurs. So I took Wed and Danny took Thurs.
Danny and I talked before and I told him that I wanted to write a piece that I could use again, not something to just be thrown away. His response was, “I like writing pieces that I only use once. I think it’s cooler if this is the only time and the only audience that will hear it” (paraphrase).
My piece was called “Happy” and is something I might use again later. I sang parts of “Billionaire” by Travie McCoy and the Jr. Highers loved it, until they realized I was slamming on the song—pun intended.
Danny named his piece “What Would P. Diddy Do?” while on stage, and it went as such:
He began talking about how cool his new cymbals are. He held the high hat cymbal out so everyone could get a look at it (see picture below). He talked about how much he loved stuff and sounded very materialistic. Then he started to talk about the sweat shirt that he was wearing—an $80 Underoath sweatshirt, only 200 in existence, he waited for 2 months for it.
Then he stopped and said “But you know what? I don’t need this” (again paraphrase). And so he took it off and walked into the crowd and gave it to one of the high schoolers. He stepped back on to stage and talked about how if all he does with his life and his stuff is keep it for himself then he is “nothing but a clanging cymbal”—and as he said this line he threw the cymbal as hard as he could at the ground. The cymbal banged against the stage, bounced up, and landed off-stage making a second equally loud sound.
The piece was phenomenal. Serious quality.
And you know what? You’ll never get to see it. It was a one-time thing.
Now the reason I’m telling you this whole story isn’t to update you on what Spit in the Mud did this last week, it’s to tell you about a piece and a poet that I respect more than words.
For those who don’t know, Danny and I are roommates, so I know how much he loved that sweatshirt. How much he had waited for it to come in. He made a great point when the kid tried to return it though, “I have like 13 other sweatshirts.” But he could’ve given away another one, this one was special. But that was the point. And for that I respect Danny and his willingness to live out what he was saying.
As for the cymbals, Danny said earlier that day that he knew nothing would happen to it when he threw it, however that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Something that expensive, and that dear to his heart, it stung a little to treat it so carelessly. Even though the cymbals are still in good condition, his disregard for them in the piece is also incredibly endearing.
I’m writing this to say that I respect that kid more than most people I know because he did what I feel in my heart I don’t have the guts to do and many of you don’t either.
So, I’ll end this rather long post with a challenge: in the name of Christmas, take a step outside of yourself and give away something that will honestly pain you to lose. And I’ll do it too. And when I do, I’ll comment on this post and tell you about it. So I ask that you do the same, post here what it was you gave away and why you loved it so much.
That’s all for now. Grace and peace.
-N
Danny showing his cymbal to the crowd
Spit in the Mud 