Why We Don’t Listen to Christian Music

I bet we could get into a contest over who had a more bizarre childhood. Sadly for you, there’s no way I can lose this game. Sadly for me, I always seem to win this one.  I grew up in the ghetto. Not just a regular ghetto. A multicultural ghetto in Vegas with a basketball hoop and a commercial water fountain in my backyard. A basketball hoop in my backyard and a recording studio where my garage used to stand. Legit. Recording studio.  I have memories of splicing reels to edit recordings I made of myself. I remember turning on the…

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