Rapper B
Elvira. I don’t know any Elviras.
That thought crossed my mind while driving at 110 kilometres an hour (on the speed limit) down a country Victorian highway. But then, just because I don’t know an Elvira doesn’t mean they don’t exist.
And that’s a bit like God, really. If I choose not to know Him, it doesn’t mean He doesn’t exist.
The CD player in the car was cranked up a tad-and-a-half below distortion, a definite indicator that I was travelling alone. The CD featured the Oak Ridge Boys (your grandparents may remember them) singing their hit song from about the middle of the last century, or perhaps the century before—“Elvira.”
Why Elvira? The answer is in the lyrics, and I don’t mean the “Giddy-up, giddy-up, Hi yo, Silver, away!” line, even if it does have you reaching for tissues. Who said bucket? A little respect, please.
The answer is in the rhyming. Try this: “My heart’s on fire/ for Elvira.” No, no! You read it wrong. Try again: “My heart’s on fi-a/ for Elvir-a.”
So Elvira gets a song because her name rhymes with “fi-a.” If Elvira, why not Bruce? Now I’m reaching for the tissues as I began to add up all the songs I know about anyone called Bruce. Have you ever noticed how quickly you can count to zero?
I figure there are none because there are limited words that rhyme with Bruce—like juice, loose and sluice. There are so few. Excuse me a moment.
Would all those who yelled out “goose” please leave? Now!
Oops, I think I just lost an audience. I’m glad you stayed.
I began to think about whose name featured most in songs. That’s easy. God! I reckon that’s how it should be. There’s a lesson here that can be rapped up this way:
Sometimes I think life is about me
When I ought to be focused on He
Whose love is wider than the sea
And given indisputably
To any who choose to believe.
No matter what my name may be
I am His possibility.
I’m one He promised to set free
To prepare for the heavenly
And that’s enough for Rapper B.
Yo!
Did I just get my name (20 per cent of it, anyway) into a song? Or did I just demonstrate how much I need my day job?
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