This past weekend I had an interesting Saturday. It started off with a sweet, simple time of worship with a few young people at the beach, where our church met last Sunday for a sunrise service. It was a beautiful sunrise and an enjoyable way to begin the day. This past weekend our city hosted an annual Blues Festival. Musically, I cut my teeth playing the blues, so I look forward to this opportunity each year. But what a contrast of purpose.
At the Blues Festival, several bands played a diverse mix of blues music while people of all walks of life gathered to enjoy the music. Lots of beer is sold and drunk by people wearing questionable attire while gyrating to the music. It wasn't pretty. As a young friend of mine characterized it, "It was like a hippie-fest, the bad kind of hippie." But...that's what moved them—the blues music, the beer, and the fantasy of days long gone.
