Play It Like A Million Bucks (Illustrated Edition)

In the not so distant past, I was in a band. I loved being a part of this band. Now, I've been in bands before and they were fun and all, but they weren't like this one. Everyone in this band immediately clicked. We established a bit of a reputation and started getting calls to come play at various events around town. Occasionally, we would get calls from different churches asking if one or two of us could fill in for missing band members on Sunday mornings. 

This is a story about one of those Sunday mornings. 

As mentioned before, I was in a band. At the point in time where this story takes place, we had just printed up a bunch of promotional material to advertise a concert we were about to play (see below).

One Tuesday afternoon, I received a call from a local music minister who had just started at a prominent church in town. He explained to me that he had seen the above picture and was given a "vision" that two of us were to be in his new band. Being so used to the craziness that ministers throw at you, I laughed it off and asked Dustin (the one staring at me, just behind the guy in the front with the green shirt on) if he wanted to do this. He agreed and we waited for our practice day to arrive. 

I threw in the next picture to point out that we actually did play shows. We weren't the sneaky type who have great pictures taken and then claim to be in a band...

When we finally got to practice with this guy (for the sake of the story, we'll call him PW), we realized that he was completely crazy. PW was as charismatic as they come. We wondered, had we given him a ribbon, if he would have danced around like Will Ferrell in Old School during Cheese's test. I'm almost positive he would have done it. 

We were running your basic, everyday praise songs when he started flailing his arms around and telling us to stop. He kept insisting that the music needed something extra. We (a band of five people who had been pieced together at the last minute) did all we could to give it something extra. 

PW wasn't having it.

He stopped us, ran up to me, and came uncomfortably close to my face. This was the actual conversation:

Me: "Can I help you?"

PW: "No, but I can help you."

Me: "What?"

PW: "You need to play this like a million bucks."

Me: "How would one do that?"

PW: "You know... like a million bucks. It explains itself."

Me: "I'm pretty sure it doesn't."

PW: "It just needs... it just needs something else. Something to push it over the edge. We want people to experience this like they never have before."

Me: "So, do you want me to play louder?"

PW: "I want you to play it like a million bucks."

Me: "You got it, dude."

Then, with the most serious look I've ever seen someone give in a band practice setting, he takes a deep breath and says, "You need to play it like this." The only thing I've been able to find to explain what he did is this picture:

I'm sure if PW saw this picture today, he would say that God ordained Nixon to take a picture like that to prove his point 35 years later. Upon seeing this, I looked at Dustin who was staring at him in disbelief. 

How did this guy get this job? 

It is in my nature to try and push people to their limits. Apparently, PW had no limits. As seriously as I could, I asked him, "How will we know if we're playing this song like a million bucks?" 

Coming uncomfortably close again, PW said in a whisper, "You'll know it because you'll see me 'getting into it.'"

I couldn't wait. We played the crap out of that song and he was ecstatic. 

Cut to Sunday morning in a church filled with well over a thousand people. We're in the midst of playing the song when PW turns around and gives us the "Nixon" again. Then, unbeknownst to us, assumes the position of "getting into it" which closely resembles this:

I was in tears on stage. I literally went and hid behind the drummer because I was laughing so hard. But, upon further inspection, the congregation was eating this up. This was one of the most absurd things I'd ever seen. Maybe I had grown so cynical over the years that I couldn't comprehend the greatness of what was going on. Luckily, PW pushed it too far. 

He stayed locked in the "king of the world" for almost the duration of the song, which, at the point of locking into it, we had just begun playing it. So, for five or six whole minutes, he looked like the above. Ridiculous. The congregation became visibly uncomfortable. It's a good thing they did, too. I was inches from losing all hope in today's church attendees. 

All that for "Friend of God," too. Which I'm not a big fan of due to the fact that I think it's highly irreverent. 

So, for all of you church goers, please remember that wherever you are, whenever you can, please play it like a million bucks. Those around you will thank you. Trust me.