FUNNY GUY, PART II:

"LET ANGELS PROSTATE FALL"

We'd met right before the rehearsals began for my church's Christmas program.  I was the only alto in the choir who could possibly be accused of having any talent, and one of the other choir members, Ed, was a former professional opera singer.  Our choir director had once been a professional singer, but although I liked him as a person I privately wondered where he'd lost his pitch.  His wife, a lovely person (and I hope I look that good when I'm in my 70s!) had been a professional dancer in her youth, but was an okay soprano.  So there we were - an okay soprano, me, a tenor who was always flat, and Ed, a baritone, who could outsing the rest of the choir combined, myself included, and I'm not exaggerating.  Our job was to work with a group of nonmusical parishioners to put together a Christmas musical.  It actually sounded good once we were finished, because what we lacked in skill we made up for in enthusiasm.

We were working our way through a book of Christmas hymns, which went okay until we got to the part of the music that featured a medley of old hymns.  Jim, the director, was singing the section from "All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name":

"All hail the power of Jesus' Name

Let angels prostate fall,

Bring forth the royal diadem,

And crown Him Lord of all!"

If you're familiar with this hymn, or even if you aren't and have some knowledge of anatomy, you'll notice a word that doesn't belong there.  I do medical transcription, so I picked up on it immediately - instead of singing "Let angels prostrate fall", Jim was singing "Let angels prostate fall".  I started giggling behind my music.  Of course I had to explain what was so funny to the ladies on either side of me, which started a lot of giggling in the back part of the alto section. 

And he kept doing it!  I was trying hard not to laugh outright at what was surely just a slip of the lip, but after about a half dozen times of this my ribs were about to part from their moorings.  Finally, Vivian (Mrs. Jim) said, "James, you're saying the wrong word!"  Jim reacted with real class when his mistake was pointed out; he laughed heartily, then got on with the rehearsal. 

Once we'd gone over the words, Jim asked Ed to take the men back to the multipurpose room and work with them on their parts.  Ed's voice was so carrying I could hear him plainly down a hallway that was at least 100 feet long, and through two closed doors.  Comes from having a trained voice. 

But little did I know what was happening behind the scenes.  About a week or so before the program, it was recommended to me that I invite George to our Christmas program, since he was new in the area and probably didn't have Christmas plans.  So I did.  Ed was quite enthusiastic about the fact that I had invited a friend who played the piano, and he was anxious to talk to George about possibly joining the worship band we were forming.  Of course, since I was 38 and still single, the fact that I had invited a man to the Christmas program was a subject of immense interest to the rest of the choir.  I'd told George about the 'let angels prostate fall' interlude, figuring that since he was a lab technician hearing such a thing wouldn't embarrass him, and he definitely appreciated the humor potential.    

On the night of the program he came and sat behind where the choir was gathering, and probably had every eye in the place on him.  He told me later that he'd waited for the  "let angels prostrate fall" part of the program, but fortunately no one actually sang "let angels prostate fall", or the entire choir would have cracked up laughing and the program would have been over.

That was the beginning of our relationship.  And to think:  most of it came about because of "let angels prostate fall"!