PHNWD

Praise His Name With Dancing

It's more than a moniker, and this weekend I got to experience the apex of the yearly cycle of its existence: the June show.

PHNWD is the dance company run by Mrs. Hoffman, my "second Mom." Dancing classes fill a large portion of a normal week in the Hoffman household, and every year the 140 or so students from all the ages and styles taught put on a grand, God-glorifying show, which over the years has become a respectable community event, and a profound experience for many. Dancing that wholeheartedly and wholebodily worships God is starvingly rare. Most "Christian" dance companies are like most "Christian" bands--doing what the world does, just skipping the nasty stuff and throwing the Jesus word in. Mrs. Hoffman and her girls work through each piece painstakingly to express, through the medium of moving bodies, God's goodness and our response to it. It is quite interesting for me to watch the shows (I've seen last year's June rehearsal and Christmas show) and think of how they think in dance like I think in music. This year I went to both performances (Saturday eve and Sunday aft), and really enjoyed them. The pointe dances especially were beautiful, and many of the pieces accentuated their music in a way nothing else really can. The "togetherness" of the dancers wasn't always great, which bothers my mind, but almost all the time I still enjoyed and appreciated the choreography, and several times I really got lost in the beauty of sweeping sleeves, shimmering skirts, and the visual spectacle of people moving together, seeming to flow as one expressive unit to the music and truths coming out of the house speakers.

Yes, this was an unusual trip to Akron. Shannon rode there and back with me, and I barely saw Brian at all. I didn't eat a single meal at home, and I didn't eat a single meal with less than two other people. But I didn't have a part to play in either the technical or performance aspects of the show, so there were strange dead spaces in the days. In some ways I ditched Steve-O, but in other ways we had great times together.

It occured to my sense of the future, round about the Ohio Turnpike exit toll, that I didn't really know where to go in Akron when we got there. Rehearsal had emptied the Hoffman's house, but it was ending soon so there was no point in going to Central Hower. Craig wanted to get together with folks for dinner and a movie, but we weren't sure yet who could come. We ended up going straight to the Murphy's, meeting Criag there, and going with their girls and him to Applebee's for a late dinner. And picking up Emily randomly on the way there as we passed her house. Gotta love Akron :-) Why doesn't that ever happen in Pittsburgh? After Applebee's we met Steve and Craig steered us to a "secret" park tucked behind a shopping area. We guarded the women from dogs and other threats, I climbed a tall fence and ripped my shorts, we swung on the swings, and at last got back in the cars, Jess so tired I'm sure anyone would have thought her inebriated.

That night Steve and I ate Sundaes in his van and looked through the PHNWD yearly booklet to make Mom #2 happy. Then I drifted into awakefulness at 4am, face down on the livingroom carpet, disoriented to see Mrs. Hoffman still at the laptop with the lights on, and my conacts dry and my teeth unbrushed. Serendipitious sleep is sweet. I made my bed in the den, brushed, kicked Steve awake and told him he should go to his real bed, and then proceeded to disappear into dreams of dance shows and strange things until 12:30pm. Wonderful.

On Saturday Steve, Mike and I painted a bunch of baskets for the show (long sad story involving 31 hand-made baskets being thrown out), ate at Taco Bell while they dried, and dropped them and Mike off at the high school. Then Stephen and I had a couple hours to kill, since he was off work that day. So we plunked around on guitars, worked out some kickin' dual-acoustic stuff for his New York song, and recorded bass for "Hit the Wall." Other than one F# instead of an A it's perfect, and heck, I never knew it was supposed to be an A there anyway! When you put Contemplative Afterthought into your CD player, the bass you hear on "Hit the Wall" will be what Steve played that afternoon, standing in Mike's crowded room by the big studio board, with the tape machine whirring, the window open, and me singing and air-guitaring along with the drum track pounding out of the monitors.

We got to the 7:30 show a few minutes late (as we arrive to everything we attend together), so I texted Heather in the dark to find out where they were sitting. Hezz, Furkins, Domenica and Tim had driven up from Pittsburgh to see the show, which I think is way cool of them. Steve and I entertained ourselves with whispered comments, inbetween which I watched, contemplated on, evaluated and enjoyed the performances. Then the long period of hanging around, hugging happy dancers in bridal gowns (The theme of the show was the bride of Christ), talking to Pittsburgh people and watching them talk to Akron people, and trying to figure out what we're doing after the show.

Eventually the evening found Steve and me, Craig, Micah and Shannon seated around an umbrella-d table outside the Rally's by the University of Akron campus, munching on burgers, talking, and laughing hysterically. It was the trip of Craig. He was pretty much everywhere I was, and his laughter, his sure-footed stories and recollections, and his encyclopedic knowledge of movies and music provided most of the entertainment. The double barbecue bacon burger was good, and the Mr. Pibb was everything cold, carbonated, sweet and oh-so-quenching soda can be. It was warm enough to be outside and not be cold, which is one of the best things ever. Being outside at night is, well, WHAT A NIGHT-ish.

At home Steve and I lolled around for a very long time working on songs, as documented LIVE in my previous blog post. All the skin-tingling action of that night captured in the text of a humble blog entry. PHEW! That night we got to sleep at 4. Ouch. I hate not getting much sleep. But that night was a great time with music and Steve--a killer comination :-)

Church was pretty good--John Joyce on Evangelism, Dave Walters on banging drums, Richard Murphy on high-voiced piano-led worship, Scott Thompson on skilled chorusy guitar, and my own Steve-O on the bass that makes it all sound complete. Oh, and a bank of female vocalists. But, ya know, they're just *vocalists*. :-P It was Jim's birthday, plus 11 people are graduating this year, so we had fun celebrating and honoring and joking with those folks. Then lunch at Chipoltle with Steve and Craig. Mmmm, burrito. But when all that steak and rice and beans and delish salsa hit my stomach the night's lack of sleep hit me like a bag of sand, and I felt like collapsing. So Steve and I went home and recorded guitar for "Hit the Wall" (NOT the guitar you will hear when you pop Contemplative Afterthought into your CD player) and got Berries and Cream Dr.Peppers on the way to the show at 3 :-)

This time I watched most of the show standing in the back, from which vantage point I could see and appreciate the whole stage and the whole audience, as well as the behind-the-scenes action of dancers coming in to watch a number or congregating for the occasional entrance from the back of the auditorium. It was a good show, especially because the live choir really belted it out. They sang from their bowels! From their bowels! (hilariously appropriate Homestar Runner reference). I really got caught up into many of the dances, and enjoyed the show a lot.

Then much much time wandering around masses of people, wondering what to do, talking to people I knew, and wishing the stinkin' line to the chocolate fountain would get shorter. The Hertzogs came to the show, so I got to catch up with them, which was a treat. Finally most attendees (and dancers) had cleared out, and we got down to the business of tearing everything down and packing it into cars and the U-haul. What a staple of my social life--setting up or tearing down things with people. Church, moves, events, band practices and shows... it's a peculiar context for fellowship, one I like a lot. You have things to do with yourself, and the snatches of conversation and joking you get as you heft stuff around and ask what to carry next are like Jelly Bellies--small and tasty.

Eventually, with undue confusion, I ended up in my car with Jess and Shannon, leading the way to the Montrose Don Pablo's. Don Pablo's! That long-gone staple of Behrens family celebrations. When I walked in and the ceiling opened up and I felt like I was in a courtyard in Mexico I felt strangely at home. Dinner that night was with Craig, Shannon and three giddy-tired dancers :-P Jess, Jen and Christin were indeed giddy, but the show was over and they had nothing Monday, so we just sat and ate and joked and laughed a lot and abode. Abided? Whatever. Irrelevant. It was nice, even though I felt (and was) outstaged by Craig. He's good for me--reminds me of my own ultimate social cloddiness and the fact that I have indeed only known these Akronites for a year or two. It was fun to laugh a lot, but even funner to watch Craig laugh, and then Christin, and then Jen, and then all of them laughing at eachother laughing :-)

Once the remaining third of my chimi de oro was safely ensconsed in a sheet-molded polystyrene foam container normalcy would have expected Shannon and I to return to the Hoffman's, pack my stuff in the car and return to our city. But I don't go to Akron for normalcy, and I don't usually remember normalcy years afterward with a warm glow in my heart. So all of us piled into our cars and drove to the Hoffman's to pick up some acoustic guitars and sing worship songs together. But then Mrs. H arrived so we talked and unloaded her car. And then the caravan from Central Hower arrived, and at Jess's prodding I stuck my head in the car loaded with Craig, Steve, Jen, Shannon and Christin and said how 'bout we unload us some serious U-haul? So we did, and it was very good. Good to heft heavy things, good to joke and talk while doing stuff, and mostly good to shorten a long night of work for Scott, Mike, Micah and Steve. We had that puppy unloaded in about 30 minutes :-)

Then the search for Brandy, who ended up being right outside the house anyway, and then congregating in the den for worship. That is my forte, and I led us in I dunno how long of singing. I love free worship like that. No song list, no song book, just a bunch of folks singing songs we all know, as though worshipping God was something good to do, even if it's not Sunday morning :-) Then things sort of disintegrated, but I rounded us up for the gospel song, and then Shannon and I headed for heading out in earnest. Good-byes were said, hugs all around (of course. This is Akron, folks), and at about 12:30am I was sitting statically in my seat, not yet tired, but eminently comfortable in darkness and stillness. Eventually sleep started to tug my eyelids down and draw hallucinations in the patterns of light on the highway before me so we hit a rest stop, tanked up, and I got a Vault. It worked, but not without effort. It hurt to not sleep when sleep called so enticingly, and to kill the calling comfort with crass caffeine. Dang, I'm writing good right now! That's why it's 12:15am and I'm letting myself stay away, even though I've been ploddingly tired all day and I have to get up at 7:30 tomorrow. I haven't had a good ol' rip-roarin' good-adjectivin' full chronological account of a trip in awhile. How nice that I have trips to chronicle! I was just thinking earlier how nonchalantly I take these Akron trips now. It's quite a blessing to travel so much that Akron is a second home, I can find my way around on my own, and it feels normal to be surrounded by these special people, randomly grabbing dinner somewhere, stringing the nights and days out, and ultimately sharing God's goodness--the unifying factor that lets there be peace in popularity, meaning in conversation, and comfort when you leave.

Keane is the perfect music to be listening to now, which is why I'm on my second time through the album.

So, the trip was good. When I think of it I think of dancers filling the stage with their swirling dresses, the secret park in the not-cold night, Craig laughing, and a lot of other indistinct fragments of everything I've just written about, none clear enough to add to this list, though I would like to add many of them. It was Akron.

--Clear Ambassador