Good luck resisting this song. Of course I know the original. They're both great, but Gwen's is better. "Pray tell," you ask, "why mention a song whose remake is itself not current?" I have a theory: try to be behind the times (or at least behind the charts) a bit. If a song sounds good to you three years later, there's a good chance you won't be ashamed of it in five or six. If you think it's still good then, chances are you're golden for 15-20. At that point, unless you are a total freak-show, (or even if you are) there are other souls who share your view that this track stinkin' rules the world, man! I know some of my music scares my friends. It's terribly eclectic, so that's no surprise. But music is powerful. Let noone deny this. I'll bet you can stop a war with a song. Or start one, for that matter. People do everything to music. I saw a commericial a couple weeks ago that moved me. No, it was a vignette of a commercial. A hippie in a cab says to a cab driver, "You can't just like music, man; you gotta love music." My friend thought it was funny; I did not. I could not agree more. Almighty God delights to receive worship in song. What further proof is needed that to make music is a primal, basic human function? I can be a little reticent to embrace a new kind of music, and a bit parochial in my almost visceral dislike of baby-boomer music (old white rock, that is) but I love music.
I once had a friend, a dear friend, who helped me with personal care needs in college. Reformed Presbyterian to the core. When I was a Reformed Presbyterian, I visited their church many times. We were close. I still consider his siblings my friends. (And siblings in the Lord.) Nevertheless, when I began to consider the claims of the Catholic Church to be the Church Christ founded, he took me out to breakfast. He implied--but never quite stated--that we would not be brothers, if I sought full communion with the Catholic Church. That came true; a couple years later, I called him on his birthday, as I'd done every year for close to ten of them. He didn't recognize my number, and it was the most strained, awkward phone call I have ever had. We haven't spoken since. We were close enough that I attended the rehearsal dinner for his wedding. His wife's uncle is a Catholic priest. I remember reading a blog post of theirs, that early in their relationship, she told him of the p
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