Righteous But Ribald

Dearest Rachel –

I’m not sure where to begin with this particular topic; it feels almost awkward to bring up, let alone explain what brought it to mind. Then again, I could argue that the way we would spend Saturday mornings make this topic the most natural thing to discuss every now and again. But the two adjectives in the title seem so contradictory on the face of things; one can’t be both at the same time, can one? And I’m not sure I know how to answer that, to be honest.

The thing is, though, you were perfectly capable of being both. After going through so many notes of yours every Sunday these days, I know you were a student of scripture, always doing your best to ‘be better.’ But at the same time, as your husband, I can vouch for the fact that this striving for understanding and sanctification didn’t preclude you from enjoying every aspect of our relationship. Indeed, our lead pastor has told me several times about the last conversation he had with you, a week or two before the accident, in which you complained about the fact that in heaven, people “are neither married nor given in marriage” (per Matthew 22:30), and it bothered you that this most enjoyable activity on earth should be unavailable to us in heaven. I don’t know that those were the exact words you used (I was not part of this conversation), but the gist was certainly there. If that doesn’t combine the two concepts perfectly, I don’t know what would.

This comes to mind (and yes, go ahead and giggle at that phrasing if you want to) since I’ve discovered a… would it be a new genre of music? It’s definitely steeped in artificial intelligence, but I’m not sure how it’s put together, and what part of it is real and what part is computer generated. Several YouTube creators have assembled music that sounds like they’re from various eras in history – be it big band, rockabilly, Motown, or the like – but with lyrics that leave virtually nothing to the imagination, suggesting that they’re not actually real, obscure songs from the era, despite the creators’ insistence to the contrary. In fact, in some cases, it’s so blatant as to actually border on offputting; they’re subtle as a sledgehammer, when a wink and a tickle would suffice. Then again, it’s clear that the vulgarity is completely deliberate – the anachronistic feel of Cardi B-level lyrics as sung by a squeaky-clean Doris Day clone is entirely part of the joke.

Except that… it’s hard to laugh at this stuff on my own. Humor is something that’s meant to be shared, and a laugh grows when there are others who are as in on a joke as oneself. Listening to this stuff, while fascinating on a technical level (I can’t help but wonder how this was put together, like the recording of Johnny Cash singing “Barbie Girl,” among other girl-band turn-of-the-millennium ‘hits’, to the tune of “Folsom County Blues”), isn’t nearly as amusing without someone to laugh at this with me.

And I’m pretty sure that you would be laughing at this stuff, if you could see and hear it. It’s not quite as funny – or as dead-on imitative – as the Bob Rivers stuff we would listen to every Christmas, but the shock value of the lyrics give an added dimension to it’s impact; especially since it purports to be real music of the era, leading to a question of “how did this get recorded back then?” before the realization hits that it wasn’t recorded back then, it just sounds so much like it was (complete, in one channel’s case, with fake biographies of the alleged “artists” who “recorded” the songs).

But while I’m pretty sure you would find it amusing (why, given their occasional sense of humor, I expect your folks would find it so, which is mind-blowing to realize), I don’t know that there are a lot of other people I know who I could say the same about. It’s an odd one, to be sure, but it’s an acid test as to how I might recognize Megumi one day, insofar as she could similarly maintain the balance between righteousness and ribaldry; she should be able to find these funny (well, maybe not all of them… like I said, some of them get cruder than I find amusing, and they do tend to bang away at the same notes – both literal and topical – after a while), too, while also knowing when to set such stuff aside.

You and I shared, as part of our separate but similar upbringing, the idea that certain topics – and the activities those topics focused on – were not to be discussed at a certain age and set of circumstances. It wasn’t meant for kids, or even for adolescents or young adults. But once we were married, the floodgates were opened for us. “Have at it, kids, and enjoy yourselves!” It was like being released into the largest, grandest Chinese buffet, but with only chopsticks to eat with, and no experience as to how to use them. All of which would be funny to contemplate in and of itself, but only when we could do so together.

As a couple, we learned to balance the two concepts, once we got over that initial culture shock; within the confines of marriage, everything was more or less permissible (as long as we both agreed on it). Indeed, there’s a whole book of the Bible that dwells on it, and while it’s been controversial for ages – and as a result, not often studied, and more often as allegory than in its literal sense – it’s nowhere near as shocking as it used to be, given the current overall zeitgeist we live in. Likewise, the same author wrote elsewhere about there being “a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.”

So the act itself has its time and place; why not the ability to laugh at it all? Let’s face it, the whole process (and sometimes, the things we do as humans to get the process started, and keep it going) is downright absurd, from a dispassionate viewpoint. The contortions we put ourselves through – both literally and figuratively – for its sake ought to provoke more laughter than it does; it’s just that we take the pursuit so seriously that it’s difficult to do so. Why can’t we make light of it, and treat it light-heartedly now and again, and still be spiritual? God gave this to us, it’s enjoyable… why not enjoy every aspect of it, including the silliness of it all?

I know I’m not going to persuade the majority of the people in the circles we inhabited – and I still inhabit – that this perspective is appropriate. I wouldn’t dream of doing so, in fact, in it would bother them so much. I just wish I could find one person who agreed with me, and whom I could ultimately share a laugh about this subject matter – and with any luck, for the rest of our lives, like we managed to do. I wouldn’t want the joke to die just because you have, honey.

But until – or even IF – that day comes, please keep your eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.