carolling ever dumbening I live in the 'hood. I don't feel particularly unsafe, but there are bullet holes in my roommate's wall (which bullets had to travel through a steel rollup door and another interior wall of the adjoining loft before hitting our place). Oakland is always among the top cities in the nation when it comes to murder rate. There are really beautiful and safe parts of the city as well. I actually love all parts of this town, good and bad. Nevertheless, in pursuit of creating art in my own studio, I have chosen to live in a less-than-desireable neighborhood. Tonight, after another long, shitty day of holiday, retail work, I was sitting upstairs in my loft, near the skylight. Sounds flow in here. The rain over the last few hours has been coming in waves; it's a warm storm, so hail and reckless downpours are part of the rhythm. But then a strange aural hallucination hit me. Christmas carols, rolling up and over the outer brick walls, across the tar pitch roof, and down through the seems between glass and wood. I walked downstairs and out into the parking lot to discover no hallucination, but actual carollers, singing Joy to the World. I used to like to take our old tape recorder, when I was young, and play both the soprano and alto lines of this hymn all by myself with my trumpet. Despite my father's life as a professor of Lutheran theology, I chose agnosticism many years ago. But this simple act of singing, against the night, against fear and doubt, this is the kind of thing that lets me know I'm alive. I have many reminders of my vitality, but ones like this, so seemingly out of place, are quite powerful. As the carollers, who were singing to the house across the street—where YaYa, the incessantly car-repairing man with great smile and equally great Jamaican accent, lives with his family—finished their song and started on their way, a few of them looked over to their left to see me and my building mate. One of them ran across the street and handed me a card. Abundant Life Ministries Where Lives Are Changing Rev. Zenzile R. Scott, M. Div. He told me of services. I smiled and said thank you. I won't likely attend, but it's good to know they're nearby, just in case I need to do a little singing. 051221 what's it to you? who go blather from