Oh, I want to be in that number...

When the Saints Go Marching In.

You've got to love patriotic music. It's the music of America. It's the music of freedom. It's the music you learned in elementary school whether you liked it or not. You learned that this land was not made just for you, that flags could be both grand and old, and that somewhere in our country there were kings that their subjects had to call "The Purple Mountain Majesties." I'm cool with learning this music at such a young age. Kids today should be proud to be Americans (even if they've never heard of Lee Greenwood.) Growing up in other nations would be much different. Hell, I'm not even talking about underdeveloped countries. I hear in England, they don't teach you patriotic music. Just the greatest collective works of Wham! Eech.

But amidst all of these flag waving ditties, it seems that a point was chalked up in the God column. That's right, between the choruses of America the Beautiful and My Country Tis of Thee, I have no doubt you learned the lyrics to the spiritual "When the Saints Go Marching In." That's right, a spiritual. Wickedness and the snares of the Devil will be vanquished when those old saints come marching in. Spirituals are tricky tunes. Heck, their very origins are rooted in the game of singing some words to mean something completely different. (You hear that, L.F.O.? Lyrics are supposed to MEAN something..) Symbolically speaking, this song speaks volumes. It's a song of ethereal battle, with God playing the role of the New England Patriots, and the Devil, ironically enough, playing the role of the New Orleans Saints.

Of course, kids don't understand symbolism at the age of learning W.T.S.G.M.I. Not until they are taught the Cask of Amontillado in middle school does the word allegory even remotely touch their lips. Well, your blogger extraordinaire never did well with Poe, and often finds himself completely misunderstanding symbolism altogether. He's often got a case of Literalitis, for which there is no cure, and occasionally he shows the symptoms of Misunderstoodia. Condon's a sick man.

I think When the Saints Go Marching In means even more than you think.

Sure, the Light vanquishing the Dark - that's definitely in there. But what you, good readers, do not realize, is that the song takes special meaning for the adventure I shall have taken this morning while you were asleep in your beds (1 bed per reader, I got the tenses right, trust me.) Oh, I will wait for that number, yes, that number that when called will allow me to join the march. That number is 1242. And that march is sponsored by none other than USAir.

I can hear the trumpets and jazz band now.

Those saints? Yeah, they're there, destroying the demons, but lest we forget those saints using our highly developed gift of airborne travel. They will come from D.C. And from New York. And Nashville. And wherever the heck Nordberg is coming from. We're Big Easy bound. And we all plan to march in between 8:47 and 9:27 AM.

And I'll let you wonder how the blog will roll on while Condon is on vacation. Let's just say it's taken care of. I aim to please.

Epiblog - The episode of Saved by the Bell where the Glee Club sings the aforementioned song is one of their best. Especially because Scott Wolf plays a dorky extra in it. That Zack, lip syncing the whole thing. What will that boy come up with next? (Especially now that NYPD Blue is done...) I smell Saved by the Bell: The Grad School Years. Sweet.