DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME AND STANLEY JORDAN

(Originally released in the April 3, 1992 edition of WordProven, a publication for a division at Kelly Air Force Base.)

In the spring of 1987, a year before I graduated from Texas A&M, I was burning the candle at both ends and melting into the middle part, too. One of the events I tried to work into my schedule (as did my good friends Doug “Bunky” Applegate and Mike Orr) was concert in Houston featuring Stanley Jordan. Jordan is a phenomenal guitarist who, rather than holding the guitar strings with one hand and plucking them with the other, holds the strings with BOTH hands and allows the amplifier to magnify the sound that creates. The effect sounds like two guitarists (or 3 or 4) playing separate parts. His opening act was a then little-known singer named Bobby McFerrin. Since Doug was from Houston, I let him handle getting tickets. When he ran into some hassles, I just gave up on the idea of going to the show.

Flash forward to a relaxing spring day in a park in Bryan/College Station. I believe it was a rally of Christian organizations, but I don’t remember for sure; I do know InterVarsity Christian Fellowship (of which I was a member) held a fundraiser at whatever event it was, and I helped out somehow. Mostly it was a basic picnic; Frisbees, food, little kids playing, that kinda thing. Just the relaxation we all needed.

Well, just as I had gotten involved in a softball game, Mike and Doug called me over to the first base dugout. I’ll never forget the scene of them leaning against the chain link fence, when Mike, with his hands eye level and his fingers interlocked in the fence, grinned and told me:

“We got the tickets.”

It’s 5 p.m. The concert was at 7:30 p.m. In Houston.

I ran about 100 yards across the park to get my jacket. There I found Dan Wales, a friend I hadn’t seen since he graduated almost a year prior. I was reduced to shaking his hand real quick and saying “HiDangreattoseeyousorryIcan’ttalkI’mgoingtoaconcertinHoustontonightgottorunbye!” Then I ran back to meet Mike and Doug at Doug’s car. We gassed up (the car), drove to Houston as fast as we dared (I think we maxed out at 70 mph; Doug had a old car, the speed limit was still 55, and we were a tame bunch), picked up the tickets at Doug’s parent’s house, and went to the Tower Theater for the show. We missed about the first 15 minutes or so of Bobby McFerrin’s act, but we saw enough to recognize he’s tremendously talented and to become fans for life – one year before his song “Don’t Worry Be Happy” dominated the airwaves. Then Stanley Jordan dazzled us with his brilliant guitar playing. After the show, we stopped by Doug's parents’ house again, had a snack, then went back to B/CS. Doug and Mike dropped me off at the park (park?) so I could pick up my car, then, in a not-TOO wee hours, I finally arrived at my dorm room.

So the next morning, I went to church. I was running a little late or (so I thought), but when I saw the congregation chatting in the lobby outside the chapel, I thought, “I'm on time! They haven't entered the sanctuary yet.” Then, after I’d taken two steps into the building, Andre “Bubba” Winters spotted me and said, loud like Pavarotti so everyone in the room could hear:

“DID YOU FORGET TO SET YOUR CLOCK?”

Yes, folks, in the excitement of the last minute Houston concert the night before, I'd completely forgotten to Spring my timepieces forward. The congregation had entered the chapel for the service - and exited again after the service.

I did get to join them for lunch, though.