Our ward organist, I am sorry to say, is one of those ward organists who plays every hymn at exactly half-speed.
(Note: I AM NOT ASKING FOR HIS JOB. I couldn't do any better, even if I did take that organ class at BYU, Mother. The class nearly kicked my trash.)
We all know that a hymn taken too fast can be irreverent, right? But hello, nothing takes the spirit out of a meeting like "True to the Faith" as a funeral march. Or any hymn as a funeral march. Also, when the organ registration gets louder and more boisterous with each verse and sometimes the chorus.
The good thing to be gained from such looooong hymns every meeting, I suppose, is the ample time to make faces at siblings. There were times when Matt and I barely made it through ... oh the pain.
(We've had the same organist for quite a while.)
(And last week at my uncle's funeral Slice actually said, "It's nice to hear a hymn played at the right speed!")
The other great thing about this brother is that yesterday he pulled a Pat Robertson, postulating to the ward that the snowstorm in D.C. is really a warning to our government. I'm sure he's not the only one who thinks so, but still, I squirmed in my seat, Slice kept telling me to be quiet - I WAS being quiet - while he blasted everything from health care reform to the national debt.
I love this church.
*image kifed from my friend Bree, who I hope doesn't mind! and who is a MUCH better organist than I am, I'm sure