Poetry

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/bFG-buhIDEA

I kneel down and say grace for the comforts the world bestows on me
And the great corporations providing our every need
And those big neon signs telling us what to eat
And every shop window goods are designed to please
Oh, but I ask
Where is the poetry?

I'm looking at the sign that says, "Have a good day."
Well, I got too much on my mind and so many questions that get in the way
Everybody's looking for perfection
Once I heard a wise man say, "To get, sometimes you have to give away."

Where is the poetry?

~  Ray Davies

You remember The Kinks, right?  Well, Ray Davies is still at it!  His latest, Americana, will be released on April 21, but "Poetry" is a teaser.  With backup by The Jayhawks, the song has a pop-rock feel to it, but Davies' commentary on America's fascination with materialism is way more profound than pop-rock would allow.  Davies ponders a search for beauty in a world obsessed by things as opposed to ideas.

I am at an age where material possessions have come into question.  While, like most everyone, I spent decades furnishing my lifestyle with comfort and convenience and eye appeal, I have begun the arduous task of downsizing, economizing, and finding new homes for my worldly possessions.  It's harder than it sounds.  But letting go, when my loss benefits someone else, is liberating in a way I never would have imagined.  While I know it will take me years to get to a place where I feel comfortable about this, I am ready to embark on the effort.

But Davies does not tackle the problem of American excess in isolation.  He counters materialism with the simple question, "Where is the poetry?"  I think I know where it is.  I have encountered it in many places, some far from home and some in my own backyard.  I have found poetry on a hike to Delicate Arch in Utah, in the turquoise waters of the Caribbean, at the base of waterfalls in Pennsylvania and Australia, in a redwood grove in northern California, in a rainforest in Costa Rica, on a stubbled autumn cornfield across the street from my northern home.  I have experienced poetry while riding a mule into Bryce Canyon, floating in a hot-air balloon over the red rocks of Sedona, observing herons and anhingas at a Florida bird sanctuary, and while pondering the depths of a crater lake in Oregon.  I have felt poetry in the waves crashing on the both the east and west shores of my country, and in the exercise of planting a garden in my backyard and watching the magical growth of plants that will sustain me all summer long.

The poetry is there, if you are willing to look for it.  Personally, I don't think it exists in a piece of Ivanka Trump jewelry, but that's just me.  Set me down in a National Park, and I will show you some poetry.

Where is your poetry?

What's Going On?

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/EbZYRZpNc64

Mother, Mother, there's too many of you crying
Brother, Brother, Brother, there's far too many of you dying
You know you've got to find a way
To bring some lovin' here today

Father, Father, we don't need to escalate
You see, war is not the answer, for only love can conquer hate
You know we've got to find a way
To bring some lovin' here today

Picket lines and picket signs
Don't punish me with brutality
Talk to me so you can see
What's going on

~  Marvin Gaye

The "Motown Sound" was a mix of R&B, pop, and gospel music produced in "Motor Town," a nickname for Detroit, Michigan, in the 60s. Most often referred to as "soul music," the genre initially played it safe, preferring to appeal to all ethnic and socio-economic groups.  And then, in 1971,  Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On" was released, and to this day, it stands as "a timeless spiritual anthem."  The song was written by Al Cleveland and Renaldo Benson, inspired by a visit Benson had made to the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco, where he witnessed young, long-haired people being beaten and harassed by police.  He took his initial work to Marvin Gaye, who tweaked it with lyrics reflecting his own concerns about stories his brother told him upon returning from service in the Vietnam War.  As Benson stated, "We measured him for the suit, and he tailored it."

Motown founder and head Barry Gordy gave Gaye a hard time about the song, resistant to the idea that Motown could make a political statement.  "Motown was about music for all people -- white and black, blue and green, cops and the robbers.  I was reluctant to have our music alienate anyone.  This was a big risk for his (Gaye's) image."  Legend tells it that the song was released while Gordy was away on vacation, but when it immediately soared to the top of the charts, Gordy had a change of heart.

And here we are, 46 years later, still trying to find a way to bring some lovin' here today.  The parallels between the unrest of the 60s and the protests today are not hard to find.  The displays of racism, the desecration of Jewish cemeteries, the issues behind Black Lives Matter, the evidence of interference in our government by an adversarial foreign country, the fear of involvement in yet another foreign war, Bannon's determined "deconstruction of the administrative state," the threat to women's reproductive health care . . . the list goes on and on, as we repeatedly ask, "What's going on?"

If nothing else, never stop asking.

Ah, Mary

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/E4nHu0us4uQ

She's skilled at the art of deception and she knows it
She's got dirty money that she plays with all the time
She waters the garden, but maybe she just likes the hoses
She puts herself just a notch above humankind

Ah, Mary.  She'll make you cookies, then she'll burn your town
Ah, Mary.  Ashes, ashes, but she won't fall down
She's the beat of my heart, she's the shot of a gun
She'll be the end of me and maybe everyone

Call her a bully, she'll blow up your whole damn playground
Pour her a drink and watch it go straight to her head
She'll take you so high up and cover her eyes as you fall down
Then in the morning, don't be surprised if you're dead

Ah, Mary, Mary, Mary . . . Ca.  Oh, America.

~  Grace Potter

Grace Potter and the Nocturnals hail from Vermont, and as far as I am concerned, everything that comes out of Vermont is good.  And Grace Potter is good.  I have seen her perform, and the passion she puts into her delivery is arguably on a par with Janis Joplin.  Well, close.

"Ah, Mary" appears on the 2007 release, This Is Somewhere.  The lyrics are obviously striving for political metaphor.  If the song is new to you, did you see the end coming?  Did you know that "Mary" would end up being "America"?  I ask because the first time I heard the song, I did not see that one coming.  It isn't hard to follow the metaphor through with speculation on the "dirty money" or the bully references.  But before you take offense and reject Potter for dissing America, take note of the last two lines of the chorus:

She's the beat of my heart, she's the shot of a gun
She'll be the end of me and maybe everyone

We are all complicit.  We are cursed/blessed with a big dose of nationalism in this country, and it is always hard for us to admit when we, as a nation, may have strayed from our original purpose.  But no matter the fear, no matter the divide, no matter the differing ideologies, we all know that America is an experiment in government as it should be.  We may be messing it up here and there, playing with the hoses instead of taking care of our thirst, but we still all yearn for the same values:  life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Ah, Mary.

Burn One Down

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/uhKq9JvssB8

Let us burn one from end to end
And pass it over to me, my friend
Burn it long; we'll burn it slow
To light me up before I go

If you don't like my fire
Then don't come around
'Cause I'm gonna burn one down
Yes, I'm gonna burn one down

My choice is what I choose to do
And if I'm causing no harm, it shouldn't bother you
Your choice is who you choose to be
And if you're causing no harm, then you're all right with me

~  Ben Harper

Yesterday's bad news revealed that U. S. Attorney General Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III and the Department of Justice intend to step up enforcement of federal law against recreational marijuana.  So I guess "states' rights" don't apply to matters that deal with the harmless exercise of entertainment choices?  Despite evidence to the contrary, the federal Drug Enforcement Administration still categorizes cannabis as a Schedule 1 drug, meaning it is considered "a substance that has a high potential of being abused and has no acceptable medical uses."  Well, guns have a high potential of being abused, but I digress.  No medical uses?  Tell that to all those suffering from cancer, PTSD, Alzheimers, epilepsy, multiple sclerosis, Parkinson's, and hundreds of other conditions.  Tell that to the 26 states (and the District of Columbia) that have laws legalizing marijuana in some form.

As of now, the threat to interfere in the legal use of marijuana in over half of the United States is not focused on medical marijuana, but I do not feel comfortable about this step backward.  My son lives in Colorado, the first state to legalize marijuana back in 2012, and when I visited him there last summer, we went to a couple of dispensaries to find they were clean, well-run, and staffed by knowledgable and courteous people.  Illegal means of procuring pot in Colorado has declined, and the state has brought in over a billion dollars in tax revenue in 2016.  The stigma of opting for marijuana as a drug of choice, along with the stealth and secrecy of obtaining it, is gone.  (Remember Prohibition?)

Ben Harper's "Burn One Down," referred to as "a James Taylor meets Bob Marley moment" for him, was included in his 1995 release Fight for Your Mind.  It is his most-performed song at concerts.  And nearly 20 years after the release of that song, change finally began.  But Americans' use of marijuana goes back much farther than those 20 years.  My awareness of it occurred somewhere in the mid-60s, but anyone who knows of the 1936 cult film Reefer Madness knows that marijuana's reputation as an illegal gateway drug was a mid-century invention.

There are so many problems that need to be addressed in this country.  Smoking a joint isn't one of them.  A recent poll showed that 59% of Americans think marijuana should be legal while 71% are opposed to a federal crackdown.  And is it a coincidence that on the same day that Sessions issued this threat, he also reversed an Obama-era DOJ memo that would have reduced the federal use of private prisons, sending their stocks soaring?  Now, how can we fill those prisons . . .

As Bill Maher responded to the news, "No way I am doing these four years straight."

If I'm causing no harm, it shouldn't bother you.  Amen.

For a Dancer

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/IU1rZa8Ur_Q

I don't know what happens when people die
Can't seem to grasp it as hard as I try
It's like a song I can hear playing right in my ear
That I can't sing
I can't help listening

And I can't help feeling stupid standing 'round
Crying as they ease you down
'Cause I know you'd rather we were dancing, dancing our sorrow away
No matter what fate chooses to play
There's nothing you can do about it anyway

Keep a fire for the human race
Let your prayers go drifting into space
You never know what will be coming down
Perhaps a better world is drawing near
And just as easily, it could all disappear
Along with whatever meaning you might have found
Don't let the uncertainty turn you around
Go on and make a joyful sound

~ Jackson Browne

Today would have been the 70th birthday of my dear friend JoAnn.  She's been gone nearly 17 years already, two years before I lost my husband Pete and three years before my best childhood friend Peggy.  It would be an understatement for me to recall those years as full of sorrow.  "For a Dancer" has long been the song I've associated with that time period, so it seems appropriate to call it up today.  It has always been a song of healing for me.  As Jackson said, "It's a sad song, but at the same time, it feels good to sort through that reality and touch base with it, and then go on."

"For a Dancer" appears on the 1974 release Late for the Sky, arguably my favorite Jackson Browne album, although I have never liked picking favorites when it comes to music.  Jackson wrote it after the death of his friend Scotty Runyon, who died in a house fire.  Scotty was a dancer, an ice skater, and a painter, among other things.  (Although many people have believed that this song was written for Jackson's wife, her suicide occurred two years after the song was written.)

JoAnn, at age 53, died of a heart attack, precipitated by a broken heart that none of us knew how to help her heal, not even her adored children, who, in their mid-teens, suffered unimaginably from their loss.  It is consoling to know that JoAnn would be so proud of the kind and loving adults her children are today, but I cannot help but revisit my sorrow whenever I see pictures of her grandchildren and consider what she and they are missing.

I met JoAnn in the late 70s when she joined the English Department at the high school where I'd been teaching for a couple of years.  I remember well the day she sat in our office being interviewed by the Department Chair.  She was smart, she was sophisticated, and she was stunningly beautiful.  Her eyes disappeared into slits when she laughed.  I was immediately intimidated.  But when the new school year began the following fall, it didn't take me long to fall in love with her.  She became my hero.  And then she became my best friend.  That friendship survived beyond our teaching years together as we became mothers, navigating the confusing and demanding job of parenthood.  Our daily morning phone conversations helped me survive those years.  Were she still alive, I suspect we would still be engaging in those morning conversations.  I will forever miss her.

This post is for JoAnn's children, Francesca and James.  I love you both.

Into a dancer you have grown
From a seed somebody else has thrown
Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own
And somewhere between the time you arrive and the time you go
May lie a reason you were alive
But you'll never know

Here in Spirit

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/h-5JUqv8LcY

No compromise
But willing to sacrifice
Believe what you want
Go on and be who you are
Go out and get what you want
Full of life

The stone is thrown, it's coming fast
The next thing you know, it's crashing through the glass
Now we're down on our knees, picking up the scraps
Whatever it takes, we're gonna build it back

If you don't speak out, we can't hear it
Our love is always here, here in spirit
And all those who came before, here in spirit
And all those who came before, here in spirit

~  Jim James (of My Morning Jacket)

I began this daily blog on New Year's Day.  This is my 55th post.  Yesterday, for the very first time, a friend cautioned me to consider my words.  While I do believe that she misconstrued something I'd written, her observation allowed me to give some careful thought to what I am doing here.  There was a brief moment several weeks ago when I considered avoiding political posts, but I soon abandoned that idea, feeling that I had a responsibility to use my microphone to comment on what I believe to be injustice.  And although I look forward to selecting lyrics and writing posts that are devoid of political content, I feel an urgency now to confront the news of the day and state my opinion, for what it's worth.  The bottom line is this:  if you find my blog offensive, please do not read it.

Jim James, alternately known as Yim Yames, is the frontman of My Morning Jacket.  I got to witness his artistry from the front row at Levon Helm's Barn a few years ago, and it was magnetic.  I am a fan.  Jim participated in the "30 Days, 30 Songs"  pre-election effort last fall with his "Same Old Lie." He later released  Eternally Even in November.  "Here in Spirit" appears on that album.  "It's a song about speaking out and trying to be there for people in spirit even if you can't be at every rally and battle."

I am one of those people.  While I applauded the efforts of those people, including my daughters, who took part in the Women's Marches last month, I was not in a position to participate.  (I hope to remedy that soon.)  And we non-participants, here in spirit, are legion.  I do what I can, and the best that I can do is this, my blog.  If you don't speak out, we can't hear it.

I value each and every one of my friendships here on this planet.  My friend and I, despite our different political ideologies, will do our best to navigate this divide, to focus on what we have in common instead of what we don't.  It is all we can do.  She is important to me, and I do not want to lose her friendship.

Jim James said it best in his Rolling Stone interview:  "So much confusion in the world right now . . . so much pain and chaos.  In times like these, it's easy to get angry and direct our sadness into the empty space-time false reality of the Internet. But we have to try and stay positive and continue to work and speak out for peace and love and equality -- in the real world . . . right now.  We need to reach out to those we disagree with and find common ground.  We must fight the divide and conquer techniques that are working so well to hold us back from universal love."

There is no doubt in my mind that my friend and I are on the same page in that regard.  Meanwhile, I will speak out.  Can you hear me?

Disorder in The House

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/ACSeVC6umzg

Disorder in The House
Time to duck and cover
Helicopters hover over rough terrain

Disorder in The House
Reptile wisdom
Zombies on the lawn staggering around

Disorder in The House
There's a flaw in the system
And the fly in the ointment's gonna bring the whole thing down

The floodgates are open
We've let the demons loose
The big guns have spoken
And we've fallen for the ruse

It's the home of the brave and the land of the free
Where the less you know, the better off you'll be

~  Warren Zevon and Jorge Calderon

Yes, I took editorial liberties by capitalizing The House.  I do not believe Warren would mind.

Warren Zevon's last album, The Wind, was released two weeks before his death on September 7, 2003.  It's a brilliant combination of songs that celebrate Zevon's  humor and songs that will break your heart, pouring from the emotional depths of a dying man.  "Disorder in the House," which features Bruce Springsteen on guitar and back-up vocals, won a 2003 Grammy for "Best Rock Vocal Performance (Group or Duo)."

I would guess that by now, my loyal readers would know why I selected these lyrics.  But just to be sure, instead of my repetitive discourse on the subject at large, I have decided to give you a pop quiz. (Ever the teacher.)  Keep your eyes on your own paper and no talking.

1.  To what does "duck and cover" refer?  Any reason to think the term might become relevant again?

2.  Define "reptile wisdom."  And who/what are those zombies staggering around on the (White House) lawn?

3.  A "fly in the ointment" refers to a minor irritation that spoils the success or enjoyment of something.  If you could christen the fly, what would you name him/her?

4.  Name three demons that have been let loose and two big guns that have spoken.

(Rachel, stop looking at Jack's paper.)

5.  True or false:  "The less you know, the better off you'll be."  Defend your answer.

Sorry, I am not collecting your papers.  I gave up grading them a long time ago. And the U.S. Department of Education is history, anyway.

Class dismissed.

Stockholm

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/fugK72tmaUM

Ships in the harbor and birds on the bluff
Don't move an inch when their anchor goes up
And the difference with me is I'm falling in love
Stockholm, let me go home

And the night, so long
I used to pray for the daylight to come
Folks back home surely  called off the search
And gone back to their own

~  Jason Isbell

Sweden.  I googled songs about Sweden.  (There aren't that many, which tells you something.)  But I appreciate Jason Isbell, and so there was "Stockholm," and I thought, "Why not?"

Because I must pay homage to the Massacre in Sweden the other night.  Now, I'm not sure in what city the massacre occurred, and my attempts at discerning this information fell short, but what the hell, if we're relying on alternative facts, it might as well be Stockholm, right?  So let's just agree that the terrorist attack occurred in Stockholm.  Are you all good with that?  Because I can change it!  Maybe it happened in Gothenburg?  Uppsala?  How about little Linkoping?  Oh, hell, let's go with Stockholm.  Sounds more likely, right?

Sweden has a long reputation for welcoming refugees and migrants; in 2015, there were 163,000 asylum applications.  This is a good thing, right?  No?  Damn!  I forgot about Sharia Law!  I forgot about "no-go-zones."  (And just let me warn you, if you want to google these things, be prepared to be bombarded with fake notices that your adobe flash drive needs updating.  Yep.  It's pretty easy these days to spot the suckers.)

I have never been to Sweden.  But based on the response to the fake news that there was a terrorist incident in Sweden the other night, I just might want to put Sweden on my bucket list.  "What has he been smoking?" asked the Swedes.

Good question.

Let's Impeach the President

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/k4kTnP5VJ1k

Let's impeach the President for lying
And misleading our country into war
Abusing all the power that we gave him
And shipping all our money out the door

Who's the man who hired all the criminals
The White House shadows who hide behind closed doors
They bend the facts to fit with their new stories
Of why we have to send our men to war

Let's impeach the President for hijacking
Our religion and using it to get elected
Dividing our country into colors
And still leaving black people neglected

~  Neil Young

Today is Presidents' Day.  Or, for many of us, Not My President's Day.  Either way, it was a good excuse to google songs about Presidents.  And, yes, I know that Neil Young was my guest here just two days ago, but as pointed out then, Neil has been writing and protesting injustices for six decades. So this 2006 song, off the incredible Living with War release, seems apropos.  Of course, in 2006, Neil was referring to President George W. Bush, but once again, there's a prescience about the mention of lying, of abusing power, of "White House shadows," of bending facts, of using religion to get elected, of dividing our country "into colors."  As Neil's old friend Joni told us, we're captive on the carousel of time.  Around and around and around.  It's the same ride.

And I have to say, despite all the things he did with which I disagreed, W just isn't looking quite as bad these days, is he?  Everything is relative.

The official video that accompanies "Let's Impeach the President" features a series of TV news clips to illustrate Young's lyrics.  I tried to imagine the song being rewritten for today's Not My President, also using TV news clips to illustrate lyrics.  Suffice it to say, there would be a wealth of material from which to choose.  Even more if the video featured tweets.

In commenting on the song, Neil said, "A political song about something that's so wrong that the only way to point out how wrong it is is by doing a song that's wrong -- smashing and pounding away at it.  A lot of people criticized it as a crappy song, that it was such a terrible melody.  You want a terrible melody that pisses people off, that's so stupid and repetitive that it aggravates people."

Well, I'm aggravated.  Are you?

Money Rules the World

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/YsQfpEYwIS8

Politicians bought and sold
And they're doing just what they're told
Pretending that they got our backs
But they belong to Exxon and Goldman Sachs
They're standing with the flag unfurled
But it's money, it's money that rules the world

They're trying to say to me and you
Corporations are people, too
The way that it seems to me
They're trying to steal our democracy
So many accusations hurled
But it's money, it's money that rules the world

I used to watch the eagle fly
See him soaring across the sky
But now it makes me wanna cry
I'm afraid that he will soon die
So listen, every boy and girl
It's money, it's money that rules the world

~  Walter Trout

I'm heading out this evening to see Walter Trout in concert, so I figured I might as well post one of his songs.  Now, I am no authority on Walter Trout or on the blues in general, but I have been yearning for an opportunity to get lost in some live blues.  Trout, throughout his five-decade career, has amassed quite a resume.  Perhaps most notable would be his time with Canned Heat and with John Mayall.  So I am looking forward to  a pint of Sweetwater 420 and some crazy guitar mastery while lounging on a cushioned bench in a funky outdoor setting with two very dear friends.  Life IS good!

"Money Rules the World" appears on the 2012 release Blues for the Modern Daze.  Clearly, the song is a reaction to that year's Presidential election, but, as with so many songs of a political nature, this one resonates today.  Yes, it was Mitt Romney who famously informed us that corporations were people, too, and in 2017, they still are, perhaps to an even greater degree than five years ago.  And when the Secretary of Education can buy her way into that position via corporations like Amway and Blackwater, the balance of power in this country is beyond skewed.  The gap between the haves and the have-nots has never been wider.  And the possibility of reversing Citizens United seems less and less likely.

The mention of Exxon and Goldman Sachs is eerily prescient.  With at least a half-dozen ex-Goldman Sachs predators in the current administration's Cabinet, and the appointment of Exxon executive Rex Tillerson as Secretary of State, money is indeed, literally, ruling the world.

Pocahontas

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/QS4t-a-w8ug

Aurora borealis, the icy sky at night
Paddles cut the water in a long and hurried flight
From the white man to the fields of green
And the homeland that we've never seen

They killed us in our tepee and they cut our women down
They might have left some babies crying on the ground
But the fire sticks and the wagons come
And the night falls on the setting sun

I wish I was a trapper; I would give a thousand pelts
To sleep with Pocahontas and find out how she felt
In the morning on the fields of green
In the homeland that we've never seen

~  Neil Young

My dear friend Matthew is due to arrive here soon, visiting me from up north, so I've been thinking about our friendship.  Matthew was a student of mine back in the late 70s, and we shared a love of Neil Young.  We bonded over our separate experiences of seeing Neil Young and Crazy Horse in NYC for the Rust Never Sleeps tour in 1979, and I've lost count of how many times we've seen him in concert since, either together or separately.  Our most recent concert was last September at some obscure venue in Pennsylvania.  But we were in the fifth row, so no complaints.

Anyway, I was taking a look at the Rust Never Sleeps song list and clicked on "Pocahontas," due in part to the recent use of that name to denigrate one of our finest politicians.  Senator Elizabeth Warren  was forced to deal with the infantile name-calling of a man campaigning for the Republican Presidential nomination last summer and who, still in campaign mode, has taken up the "insult" once again.  All because Warren claimed Native American heritage based on family folklore, something that she was unable to "prove."  We all have our family stories; how many of us can prove them?  For instance, there was a marble paperweight shaped like a book on my mother's desk when I was a kid.  The story was that it had been President Woodrow Wilson's.  Can I prove that?  No way.  But it's my story and I'm sticking to it.

But again, I digress.  Neil Young has been singing protest songs for sixty years.  His most recent effort is Peace Trail, the December 2016 release that includes "Indian Givers," a song that highlights the conflict at Standing Rock, a protest against the Dakota Access Pipeline, which treads on Native American sacred land.  (And guess who overturned the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers' stop-work order on construction as soon as he took office?)  One of Young's most known protest songs was "Cortez the Killer," about the Spanish conqueror of the peaceful Aztec Empire in 1511.  The Aztecs viewed him as a god, but he killed many of them nonetheless.  Oh, history!

In "Pocahontas," Young imagines an encounter with the Native American princess who reportedly saved Captain John Smith's life in Jamestown, Virginia in 1607.  She was later captured by the English in 1613, held for ransom, and then converted to Christianity and married an English settler, John Rolfe.  When the Rolfes later traveled to London, Rebecca (as she was then known) was presented as a "civilized savage."  Neil Young's song is about the massacre of a Native American tribe by European settlers, and as Rolling Stone commented, the song is "simply amazing, and nobody but Neil Young could have written it."

And Neil's still writing.  About the things that matter.  Neil Young, despite being a Canadian citizen, is an American treasure.  And as we all know, it's better to burn out than to fade away.  Keep burning, Neil.

Galileo

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/4RiU2T4Psyc

How long 'til my soul gets it right?
Can any human being ever reach that kind of light?
I call on the resting soul of Galileo,
King of Night Vision, King of Insight

I'm not making a joke
You know me, I take everything so seriously
If we wait for the time 'til all souls get it right
Then at least I know there'll be no nuclear annihilation in my lifetime
I'm still  not right

I offer thanks to those before me; that's all I've got to say
'Cause maybe you squandered big bucks in your lifetime
Now I have to pay
But then again, it feels like some sort of inspiration to let the next life off the hook
"Look what I had to overcome from my last life! I think I'll write a book."

~  Emily Saliers (Indigo Girls)

This seemed like a good follow-up to "Ripple."  Let's stay in that esoteric Eastern mindset for awhile.  It helps to ease the pain of our current Western dysfunction.

"Galileo" was on the 1992 release Rites of Passage by the Indigo Girls.  In a time when a lot of music was love-song-fluff, it was refreshing to encounter meaningful lyrics.  The Indigo Girls were commenting on the concept of reincarnation, "a regeneration of souls for the betterment of all creatures and things over time."  I am not a religious person in the contemporary definition of the practice, so I am always eager to explore other ideologies.  Karma makes sense to me.  As for reincarnation, the verdict is still out for me, but I am a willing student.  Although Faith escapes me, I know what I DON'T believe, and I have long believed that I am on a journey to find out (channeling Cat Stevens, aka Yusef, here); I hope it takes me my entire life to reach any personal truth.

I know there'll be no nuclear annihilation in my lifetime. Well, that's a relief!  We can't be annihilated because we haven't made our souls right yet!  Let's just take some small comfort in that, okay?

Galileo, as you probably recall, championed the belief that the Earth revolved around the sun, and not the other way around.  For this, he was tried for heresy in 1633.  He remained on house arrest for the rest of his life, but he continued to write.  Saliers commented, "He was like this pinnacle of light and truth, and the Church made him recant . . . I thought he was such a brave guy, and then to have to recant that, and then we all know what he discovered was true now, or as true as we can believe it to be . . . "

How long 'til my soul gets it right?  Well, I, for one, am working on that.  I hope you are, too.

Ripple

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/lVdTQ3OPtGY

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty
If your cup is full, may it be again
Let it be known there is a fountain
That was not made by the hands of men

There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night
And if you go, no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone

Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow

You who choose to lead must follow
And if you fall, you fall alone
If you should stand, then who's to guide you?
If I knew the way, I would take you home

~  Robert Hunter (Grateful Dead)

This one is for Nora.

American Beauty, released in 1970, is one amazing album.  And "Ripple" is one amazing song, another gem from the pen of Robert Hunter, lyricist for the Dead.  I am always puzzled by people who dismiss the Grateful Dead, as if they were somehow anarchistic or atonal or otherwise unpleasant.  I suspect that those people have never even listened to the Dead.  Their loss.

"Ripple" is a very spiritual song, an East meets West kind of poem.  Many have found connections to the 23rd Psalm in the lyrics.  Not being much of a Bible authority, I can't really comment on that, but the idea of a cup being full and a fountain not made by the hands of men seems somewhat Biblical to me.  The refrain Ripple in still water / When there is no pebble tossed / Nor wind to blow is more or less a haiku, that Japanese art form that is most often reflective of nature and the lessons it can teach us.  Certainly, the refrain contains the requisite 17 syllables, but the traditional 5 - 7 - 5 disbursement of those syllables is absent.  Not to worry, Purists.  It's okay.  (I know, having to have many conversations with myself to accept that aberration.)  The more important aspect of a haiku is that it focuses on a brief moment in time and provides a sudden enlightenment or illumination.  Hunter's refrain surely does that.

But Hunter's favorite line is not that refrain.  His favorite line, the one he claims is the best that has ever come out of his head, is this one:  Let it be known there is a fountain / That was not made by the hands of men.  I suppose many of us could argue with him on the best line he's ever written.  (My favorite?  This is all a dream we dreamed one afternoon long ago from "Box of Rain.")

On this not-so-simple highway, between the dawn (birth) and the dark of night (death), at age 67, I guess it's about 6:30 in the evening for me.  The night spreads out before me, a ripple ever expanding with possibility.  I intend to stay up late, dance as long as I can, and then, sometime before midnight, ease into a beautiful sleep.

A life is a ripple.  All life is still water.  Maybe.  I don't know, don't really care.  Let there be songs to fill the air.

Yes.  Do you agree, Nora?  XO

Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/J789GId1kaY

For the morning sun in all its glory greets the day with hope and comfort
You fill my life with laughter and somehow make it better
Ease my troubles, that's what you do

There's a love that's divine and it's yours and it's mine like the sun
And at the end of the day, we should give thanks and pray to the one

Have I told you lately that I love you?
Have I told you there's no one else above you?
Fill my heart with gladness, take away all my sadness
Ease my troubles, that's what you do

~  Van Morrison

This one is for my girlfriend Jeannine who loves Van Morrison.  (And who doesn't?)  Happy Birthday, Jeannine!  The fact that our birthdays fall on either side of Valentine's Day should tell you something.  But it's our story that demands some attention here.

Jeannine was a student at the high school I taught at back in the 70s and 80s.  She was never in any of my classes, but I knew who she was.  She was a badass!  And she was also a student of my late husband and also my bff colleague JoAnn, so I received some first-hand accounts of Jeannine's shenanigans.  Jeannine was legendary.

Fast forward.  Given that we had some mutual friends on Facebook, Jeannine knew that I was present on that particular social media, so one day several years ago, she messaged me a lovely story about how much Pete meant to her as a teacher.  I was very moved by it, and so, of course, I responded.  After a couple of months of back and forth, we thought it might be a good idea to actually meet.  And so we did.  And the rest is history.

Jeannine is one of my best friends.  Despite that badass reputation, Jeannine is one of the kindest, most compassionate people I know.  And way smart.  You fill my life with laughter and somehow make it better / Ease my troubles, that's what you do.  I could not say it better myself.  We are girlfriends.  And any females reading this know exactly what that means.

Jeannine and I both have Irish roots, and we both love Van Morrison.  Jeannine, that lucky dog, got to see Van last fall with her daughter Maggie.  I haven't seen Van since sometime in the mid-70s when he was so drunk, he had to cancel his next night's appearance on SNL.  But Van is The Man.  Truth.

So, Jeannine . . . have I told you lately that I love you?  I'm telling you now.  Happy Birthday, Girlfriend!

Valentine Melody

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/p_8V9j8H5Es

Today the coin is in the air
and we are here and there
And where and when have caught us in
the web of violence

I pray to all the world as one
the day will bring the sun
In the scarlet heart of valentines
our paper hearts are blind

~  Tim Buckley

I was a sophomore in college, walking downtown on a Saturday morning to the sleepy Pennsylvania town where I lived.  Off on a side street, there was a record store, the now old-fashioned kind, with bins and bins of albums to peruse.  I started flipping through, in search of I-don't-know-what.  I came upon two intriguing albums that day and bought them both, having never even heard any of the songs they contained.  Why did I buy them?  Because the men pictured on the front of the LPs were very handsome.  Seriously, I bought these two albums based on the handsomeness of the singers.  And I have never regretted doing so.  One album was titled Tom Rush and the other was happy sad by Tim Buckley.

I still adore these artists 48 years later.  I will save my Tom Rush comments for another time.  This post is for Tim Buckley.

"Valentine Melody," the haunting, evocative ballad that gets today's attention, appeared on the album Tim Buckley which was released in 1966.  I think Buckley was 19 years old then.  The album that turned me on to him, happy sad, was released in 1969.  Tim Buckley was born on Valentine's Day in 1947 and died of a heroin overdose at age 28 in 1975.  And if the name Buckley sounds familiar to you, you might know of his son, Jeff Buckley.  Jeff never knew his father, but the musical genius found its way to him.  His rendition of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" remains one of the most-loved recordings of recent decades.  Jeff, like his father, died young, drowning at age 31 in 1997.

Our paper hearts are blind.  What to say about a line like that?  I don't think it's as simple as "Love is blind."  Paper hearts are fragile, easily torn, easily burned.  And blind; do we ever see it coming?

But I think Buckley is considering a love larger than romantic love.  He prays to all the world as one. And so we do today, over 40 years since Tim Buckley maybe found a better world.  And so this post takes a somewhat dark turn.  Or at least a somber one.  But I've never been a fan of our Hallmark holidays, so this is the best I can do.

Let me leave you with this:  sometimes, you CAN judge an album by its cover!

Happy Birthday to Me

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/q0bQ7wJmrbA

I was having a good sleep in my car
In the parking lot of the Showboat Casino-Hotel
I say, "I remember you, you drive like a PTA mother
You brought me draft beer in a plastic cup

I'm feeling thankful for the small things today
I'm feeling thankful for the small things today

Happy, happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to me and to you
Happy, happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to me and to you

~  Cracker

No idea what to say about this song, other than it makes me want to get up and dance.  And given that today is my birthday, I might as well, right?  Especially since I still CAN get up and dance!  As for the lyrics, as much as I love the line, "You drive like a PTA mother," there's not that much to say about it.

In '67, I was 17.  Now it's '17, and I'm 67.  I'll just let you wrap your head around that math for a minute while I think about the small things that I am thankful for today.

Vegetarian chili.  Dark chocolate-covered ginger.  Pirate Republic Brewery's Long John Pilsner in a longneck.  Community dogs (potcakes) that run around at will.  Neighbors who bring their three-legged pig for a visit.  Island breezes.  Reggae music.  Passionfruit vines growing over the front door.  A rooster crowing at sunrise.  Driving on the left side of the road.  Brightly painted cement cottages.  Pink sand.  Beach after beach after beach.

I am on the Bahamian island of Eleuthera with my daughter Jenna.  This is no Atlantis, mind you.  This is the real Caribbean.  We are traveling the length of the island, taking in the fragrances and sounds of a different world, one that helps to put everything in perspective.  On Eleuthera, one gets by with what's available.  One "makes do."  People share.  It is a simple way to live, and it is liberating.

The small thing I am most thankful for is not a small thing at all.  I am spending my birthday with one of the three people I love most in this world.

So Happy Birthday to me!

Found on the beach in Eleuthera on my birthday!

Talkin' World War III Blues

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/rHE3QLFyn5E

Well, now time passed and now it seems
Everybody's having them dreams
Everybody sees hisself walkin' around with no one else
Half of the people can be part right all of the time
And some of the people can be all right part of the time
But all of the people can't be all right all of the time
I think Abraham Lincoln said that
"I'll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours"
I said that

~  Bob Dylan

When Bob Dylan was recording Freewheelin' Bob Dylan in 1963, he was also scheduled to perform on The Ed Sullivan Show.  Apparently, CBS executives had a problem with the song "Talkin' John Birch Society Blues" and asked that Dylan sing something else.  (Ed Sullivan did not agree with that position.)  Dylan walked off the set.  Shortly after,  the big wheels at Columbia Records removed the song and replaced it with "Talkin' World War III Blues."  Although Dylan was not pleased with the removal of the song, he was in a delicate position, as he needed to have the album produced.

Although both of the "talkin' blues" songs (a style that Woody Guthrie popularized) were about paranoia and the hysteria surrounding communism, "Talkin' WWIII Blues" addresses the subject of nuclear annihilation with humor. In the song, the protagonist dreams he is in WWIII and goes to a doctor to find out what this means.  He tells him about the dream.  In the end, it turns out the doctor, as well as everybody else, has been having the same dream.  (Sound familiar?  Have you been having some bad dreams lately?)

The lyrics quoted above include a misquote of Abraham Lincoln.  What Lincoln actually said was (and I'm sure you know this one), "You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time." Perhaps you've heard a version of this quote in Bob Marley's "Get Up, Stand Up"?

When Dylan performed the song on Halloween in 1964 at Philharmonic Hall in New York City, he attributed the quote to Carl Sandburg instead of Abraham Lincoln!  As it turns out, it was Carl Sandburg, poet and Lincoln scholar, who cited the quote in A Lincoln Album: Readings by Carl Sandburg in 1957.  Dylan was a known admirer of Sandburg and had visited him around the time that he was performing "Talkin' WWIII Blues."

The story of the quote becomes more interesting.  Sandburg credited an Illinois lawyer, Milton Hay, with first revealing the Lincoln quote back in 1894.  Hay says he heard Lincoln say it when they both had offices in Springfield.  Hay mentioned the quote in a speech he gave in 1894 and several newspapers published the speech.  And that's how it became known and popular.

And there you have it.  Happy Birthday, Abraham Lincoln!

Somebody That I Used to Know

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/8UVNT4wvIGY

Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over
But had me believing it was always something that I'd done
But I don't wanna live that way
Reading into every word you say
You said that you could let it go
And I wouldn't catch you hung up on
Somebody that you used to know

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

~  Gotye

Oh, I bet you know this song!  I can't believe it's five years old already.  And I still never get tired of hearing it.  In selecting which lyrics to include in this post, I jumped right to those that are sung by Kimbra, the New Zealand singer who plays the female antagonist to Gotye's heartbroken persona.  Maybe it's just because of the way she accuses him of screwing her over.  I like her assertiveness.

Gotye, a Belgian-Australian singer-songwriter, admits that the song is grounded in the memory of his failed love affairs.  He refers to it as "a curated reflection of multiple past relationships."  And if the song's popularity is any indication, Gotye is not alone in these mixed emotions of sadness and anger as a result of having one's heart broken.  "Somebody That I Used to Know" has been designated one of the best-selling digital singles of all time with over 13 million copies sold worldwide.

As much as I loved the original song when it came out, I really went nuts over the version by WOTE (Walk Off The Earth), the Canadian band who do all kinds of amazingly creative things with their music and their videos.  In the case of "Somebody That I Used to Know," the five members of WOTE all play one guitar.  If you have never seen this video, here it is:  https://youtu.be/d9NF2edxy-M.  So clever!  (I love "clever.")

So "Somebody That I Used to Know" is a heartbreak song.  We've all collected and cried over heartbreak songs at one point or another.  And we all have "somebody that we used to know" out there, and sometimes those somebodies rear their heads and cause some chaos in a new relationship.  But that was love and it's an ache I still remember.  Best to let it go.

Pure and Easy

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/mfFh0h1IF20

There once was a note
Pure and easy
Playin' so free, like a breath rippling by

As people assemble, civilization
Is trying to find a new way to die
But killing is really merely scene changer
All men are bored with other men's lies

Gas on the hillside, oil in the teacup
Watch all the chords of life lose their joy
Distortion becomes somehow pure in its wildness
The note that began all can also destroy

We all know success when we all find our own dreams
And our love is enough to knock down any walls
And the future's been seen as men try to realize
The simple secret of the note in us all

Today is the day the sound curdles mountains
Flowing and blowing each man in its wake
Destroying itself in the end with vibration
There's nothing on earth its challenge can take
Excepting one note . . .

There once was a note.  
Listen.

~  Pete Townshend (The Who)

"Pure and Easy" came up on my iTunes shuffle this morning.  I listened to it with an ear toward a blog post and thought it would make a good choice.  Later in the day, I heard the song on the car radio and decided that the Universe was strongly suggesting that I go for it.  So I listened.

I don't usually include so many of the lyrics in each song here on the page.  I select the ones that poke me, and I also know that you can find the rest yourselves through the magic of Google if you are interested.  But for this song, I could not resist.  Recorded in 1971 (and again in 1974), the song speaks to 2017 in ways that amaze me.  It's all in there:  politics, war, lies, energy, greed, environmental pollution, nuclear disaster, ambition, walls, fracking, explosions . . . Did I miss anything?  Oh, yes.  The simple secret of the note in us all.  Call it love.

I have always thought Pete Townshend a genius.  I spent nearly a decade of my life with a man who was arguably The Who's #1 fan.  So, yes, I traveled near and far many times to see them perform.  And I was thrilled to take two of my kids to a Who concert a decade ago, even though Townshend and Daltry were the only originals by that time.  So we saw half of The Who.  I can even lay claim to "teaching" Tommy and Quadrophenia back in the 70s in a "mini-course" that I designed called Rock Opera.  Ah, those were the days.

But I digress.

How will the world end?  Despotism?  War?  Nuclear disaster?  Destruction of the environment?  It seems that all are possible under the current administration.  But maybe, just maybe, love does trump hate.

"Pure and Easy" is a beauty of a song, lyrically and musically.  That it deals with some dark issues may be disturbing, but there is hope if one will only listen.  There is a note that resonates with harmony and consonance.  Is it the note in us all?  Time will tell.  Meanwhile, listen.

From a Window Seat

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/O1HzHh8uOJI

And I find that the hero in this song that I am writing
Doesn't know he's just an image of myself
But as much as he resists the conversation between the rivers and the freeways
He's somehow always asking them for help

I want to make out all the signs I've been ignoring
How the trees reach for the sky or the length of someone's hair
'Cause when you don't know where you are going
Any road will take you there

So maybe I'm in town for someone's birthday
Maybe I make trouble everywhere
But as much as I resist the conversation between the rivers and the freeways
I know it's always there

~  Taylor Goldsmith (Dawes)

A few years ago, Dawes came onto the music scene, largely due to the efforts of Jackson Browne to get the band noticed.  And no surprise there.  Jackson can recognize good songwriting when he hears it.  Much like Jackson, Taylor Goldsmith's lyrics tell a story, a little snippet of everyday life underneath which lies some truth about what it means to be human.  I've been a fan since the beginning, including seeing them in concert with my son at Higher Ground, a very small venue in Burlington, Vermont.  There were maybe 150 people there, and Sam and I were right up front.  I saw them again with my daughter Jenna at Pete Seeger's Clearwater Festival on the Hudson River.

And speaking of Jenna, as I write this, she is sitting in a window seat on JetBlue, heading south to see her mother before resuming her teaching gig in the Bahamas.  In a couple of days, she and I will both occupy window seats as we fly over to the Bahamas together for my birthday celebration weekend before she starts teaching and I head back here.

Taylor Goldsmith has a fear of flying, a problem for someone whose career makes travel necessary.  So he decided to write about it.  He reveals that there's not much poetic or lyrical about being afraid of planes, so his imagination had to fill in some details to create the song.  In "From a Window Seat" our storyteller is buckled up and watching as the flight attendant points out the exits, but it looks more like a prayer / or an ancient dance their bloodline reaches through.  As he engages in some people-watching, speculating on their personalities and destinations, he drifts into a dream.  Waking, he reaches for his notebook to try to write something about what he sees.  But it's just buildings and a million swimming pools.

My favorite line in the song is the one about the conversation between the rivers and the freeways.  It is easy to visualize the two lines from the window of the plane.  Curving, winding, getting closer to one another and then spreading apart.  But always parallel to one another.  And it isn't hard to find metaphor in the image.  Some of us are rivers and some of us are freeways, but we are all headed to the same destination, more or less.  Our experiences may keep us close to one another, but we will also fall away at times from the other travelers on our journey.  The conversation, however, is always there.

While I was writing this post, I got a text message from Jenna.  "Basically this guy stole my seat, but I ended up with an aisle seat at the front of the plane and free drinks.  So I might be a bit tipsy."  So no window seat for her, but she also got a $25 voucher that she says we can use on our flight to the Bahamas!

And I'm off to pick up my girl!

Magical Mystery Tour

Watch and listen before you read:  https://youtu.be/K2xpbKBuTEw

Day after day
Alone on The Hill
The man with the tiny hands
Is tweeting angry and shrill
But nobody wants to be near him
They can see that he's just a fool
Though he alone has the answer

But the fool on The Hill
Sees his polls going down
But the hair on his head
Keeps his ego spinning round

Well on the way
Head in a cloud
The man of a thousand falsehoods
Spouts them madly and loud
But nobody ever trusts him
Or the rules he appears to make
And he won't release his taxes

But the fool on The Hill . . . 

And nobody seems to like him
They're afraid what he wants to do
And he never gives a flying fuck
He never listens to them
He thinks that they're the fools
They don't like him

~  The Beatles (with some interference from yours truly)

This one is for my friend Ron, an American living in the Netherlands.  A couple of months ago . . . I mean, a couple of weeks ago . . . (why does it seem like months?) . . . right after the Unauguration, Ron suggested that I do a post on the Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour, because it sure felt like that was what we were on.  I put it on my list.  Since this week marks 53 years ago that the Beatles "invaded" America, I thought it would be a good time to honor Ron's request.  And now I have to wonder if John, Paul, George, and Ringo would even be allowed into the United States if they were invading us now.  Those Nehru suits might arouse suspicion.

Magical Mystery Tour was released in 1967.  In Europe, it consisted of two EPs containing six songs and a 28-page booklet.  Since EPs weren't popular in America, Capital Records added five non-album singles to the six-song soundtrack from the Magical Mystery Tour film and released them as an LP.  The drug-related product was considered "an experiment even by Beatles standards" and got mixed reviews.  The Fab Four admitted to exploring the world of hallucinogens.  Hell, it was 1967.

After watching the trailer for the film (linked above), I agree with you, Ron.  This does feel like an alternate universe.

The Magical Mystery Tour is coming to take you away
Coming to take you away
The Magical Mystery Tour is dying to take you away
Dying to take you away
Take you today

Roll up.

February Seven

Listen while you read:https://youtu.be/rkVM4AxzxCE 
This live one's cool, too: https://youtu.be/NXT4YJekeXc

I went on the search for something true
I was almost there when I found you
Sooner than my fate was wrote
A perfect blade, it slit my throat
And beads of lust released into the air
When I awoke, you were standing there

There's no fortune at the end of the road that has no end
There's no returning to the spoils once you've spoiled the thought of them
There's no falling back asleep once you've wakened from the dream
Now I'm rested and I'm ready
I'm rested and I'm ready to begin
I'm ready to begin

~  The Avett Brothers

This is a love story.  I'll get to that.  But first, watch one (or both) of the videos linked above.  You won't be sorry you did.

"I and Love and You" may be an Avett Brothers song that you know.  "February Seven" may be a lesser known song.  It appears on The Carpenter, the Avett Brothers' 2012 release.  Scott Avett has been somewhat evasive as to the song's meaning, despite the curiosity of his fans.  Although many think the song is about infidelity or drug addiction, the most that Scott will offer is that it is "a take on the age-old material chase that we all have."  He further addresses the creative process by dismissing the catalyst for writing a song as not as important as the song itself, a debatable position.  "It's really hard to record these songs, because they're DOA upon recording.  They're open-ended feelings and rapport with a memory or an emotion, and once you stamp it with a recording, in a lot of ways . . . you would say, 'That's it, it's over.'"  While I'm not sure I agree with his take on the writing process, I appreciate his position that one does not have to analyze every word, every line, every verse of a song in order to appreciate and enjoy it.

That being said, let me get to the love story, and let me begin with the caveat that it is primarily the first two lines that frame the story.

Most of you know that I was widowed at a relatively young age.  I spent a dozen years focused on my kids and my home and caring for my Alzheimers-ridden mother.  I didn't date much.  When I became a snowbird, I looked to online dating to meet people in my new location.  Online dating is not a pretty thing, but it's there and some of the sites are free.

Two years ago today, I began communicating with a man that I met online.  A week later, we met.  When he asked me if I was at all uneasy about meeting on a Friday the 13th, I said no.  "It's just another day," I said. Except it was my birthday, the one where one of the cards you get is a Medicare card.  We met at the Jupiter Lighthouse.  We seemed to like one another, so we kept meeting.  And then winter was over and I went back to New Jersey.  In an effort to keep our distant relationship alive, I came up with a game in which we would try to have a conversation in song lyrics, since our love of music is one of the things we have in common.  He said, "Fine.  You go first."

On my way to the dentist the next morning, a song came on the radio that captured my attention.  The first  lines especially seemed appropriate to my relationship with this man.  I recognized the voices of the Avett Brothers, but I didn't know the title of the song.  I glanced at the radio screen to see the title "February Seven" and nearly drove into a barbed wire fence.  (I live in farm country.)  Yep, February 7th was the day that I met Ed online.  I went on the search for something true.  I was almost there when I found you.

At my age, we all have baggage.  Ed and I have spent two years on and off sorting through our baggage.  What to keep, what to throw away.  And we're still tangled up in one another, enough so that I feel comfortable sharing this part of our story.  Two years in, I think it's safe to say we're rested and we're ready.

Capital Reef National Park, June 2016

Bowling Green -- The Kellyanne Version

Listen while you read: https://youtu.be/Vf9jxEBP6ks

If you see my Kellyanne
Just tell her once for me
She could take another job
The truth would set her free
Oh, the truth would set her free
Bowling Green
Oh, you good old Bowling Green

Wish I was a Congressman
A-writin' up a speech
I'd make a bill for refugees
And then vote to impeach
Yes, I'd then vote to impeach
Bowling Green
Oh, you good old Bowling Green

Goin' through this whole wide world
Never stand alone
We'll open up our hearts and hands
And give these folks a home
We will give these folks a home
Bowling Green
Oh, you good old Bowling Green

Do you remember Bowling Green
On that fateful day?
There never was a massacre
No matter what they say

~  Dan Schatz

I spent a semester as a grad student and teacher at Bowling Green State University in 1973.  It was in the fall, when the local Heinz factory produced ketchup.  I had a constant craving for tomato soup.  My understanding was that, in the spring, the factory produced cat food.  I'm glad I moved on and missed that.

But that was an alternative Bowling Green, the one in Ohio. The Bowling Green that's in the news these days is the one in Kentucky, home state of Senate Majority Leader and Resident Turtle Mitch McConnell.  (Sometimes it is SO hard not to be snarky when writing these posts.)  Given that the coverage of the Bowling Green Massacre still has life, I began my day looking for song lyrics about Bowling Green.  Inspired by WFUV (which I stream all day) playing a version of "Bowling Green" by Neko Case & Her Boyfriends, I googled to find that The Everly Brothers recorded that song in 1967.  Written by two of their backup musicians, Terry Slater and Jacqueline Ertel, the song was also recorded by Glen Campbell and by Jesse Winchester, among others.

But that's an alternative song about Bowling Green.  The one that Dan Schatz patterned his satirical version on is titled "Good Old Bowling Green," a standard most notably recorded by The Weavers at Carnegie Hall in 1963.  Prior to that, Cousin Emmy, the nationally acclaimed "banjo-pickin' girl," recorded the song in 1946.  (In a conversation leading up to their performance of the song, Carolina Chocolate Drops lead singer Rhiannon Gibbons claims that Cousin Emmy could play a variety of instruments, including a rubber glove and her cheek.)

But those are alternative recordings of the song.  Let's talk about the Dan Schatz version above.  I came upon this in my google search and discovered that Dan just posted it on his Facebook page two days ago.  (I am a big fan of serendipity!  Thanks, Dan!)  Dan is an acclaimed folksinger / songwriter with an obviously good sense of humor, clearly illustrated in this song.  But the lyrics take a serious turn as Schatz makes the case for an America that truly welcomes "the huddled masses yearning to breathe free."

But that's an alternative interpretation of America.  In case any of my readers do not know about the Bowling Green Massacre, that's because it never happened.  Kellyanne Conway made it up in defense of her boss' Muslim ban.  It is true that there was an FBI sting operation in Bowling Green which culminated in the May 2011 arrest of two Iraqi nationals who, in a failed plot, were attempting to send money, explosives and weapons overseas to al-Qaida.  But there was no massacre, not a single casualty.  It was a successful sting operation.  In her defense, Conway said she meant to say "terrorist," not "massacre."  As stated in yesterday's post, words matter!  "Terrorist" is not an alternative word for "massacre."

Conventional wisdom has now taken on the task of differentiating between falsehoods and lies. In telling a lie, the speaker knows the statement is untrue but says it anyway with the intention of deceiving.  In telling a falsehood, the speaker may not know that the statement is untrue.  Which was it, Kellyanne?  Oh, wait.  I forgot.  It was an alternative fact.

Deportee

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/NR6G__fcWEU

Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted
Our work contract's out, and we have to move on
Six hundred miles to that Mexican border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves

We died in your hills, we died in your deserts
We died in your valleys and died on your plains
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes
Both sides of the river, we died just the same

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be "deportees"

~  Woody Guthrie

On January 28, 1948, a plane carrying mostly migrant workers being sent back to Mexico crashed over Los Gatos Canyon in California.  There were 32 deaths (four Americans and 28 migrants).  When the crash was reported by the New York Times, the names of the migrant workers were not listed.  Woody Guthrie took note of this and penned a poem about the deportees.  It wasn't until a decade later that a school teacher named Martin Hoffman put the poem to music.  Pete Seeger began performing the song, which is responsible for it being popularized.  Since then, it has been recorded by too many artists to list here, but notable on the list are The Kingston Trio, Judy Collins, The Byrds, Joan Baez, Arlo Guthrie, Bruce Springsteen, and Old Crow Medicine Show.  The link above will offer you a version by The Highwaymen (Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson) featuring Johnny Rodriguez, recorded in 1985.

The migrants who were being deported were part of the Bracero Program, initiated in 1942 to provide a work force to compensate for the American men and women serving in the military during WWII.  The program lasted 22 years.  One of the problems associated with the program was the provision that the migrants would have to be repatriated to Mexico when their work contract was up.  Upon their return to their homeland, however, they would cross back into the United States to sign on to another contract.

One of the reasons I selected these lyrics is in response to some confusion in terminology when referring to those seeking to come to America.  Most recently, the man trying to run our country tweeted out a reaction to a previously constructed "deal" with our ally Australia, in which we would accept 1200 refugees.  In the irritated tweet, these refugees were referred to as "illegal aliens."  Words matter.  There is an important difference between "refugees" and "illegal aliens."  Before I go further, however, let me just comment on the (mis)use of the word "alien."  It implies something completely foreign at best and non-human at worst.  Words matter.  The correct term is "immigrant," and that is not a mere matter of "political correctness."  An immigrant is a person who chooses to resettle in another country, usually in search of a better quality of life.  A refugee, on the other hand, is a person who has been forced to leave his/her country in order to escape war, persecution, or natural disaster.  Refugees are defined and protected by international law.  We have a legal and moral obligation to welcome these suffering victims to the safety and sanctuary of our country.

While the victims of the plane crash nearly 70 years ago were not refugees, they were not technically illegal, either.  The Bracero Program provided work visas for their legal residence here during the length of their contract.  American companies profited from the cheap labor, a practice which continues today.  When the contract was up, the migrant workers were deported.  What angered and upset Woody Guthrie about the victims of the plane crash was the fact that they were nameless.  A few years ago, writer Tim Z. Hernandez was able to find the names of the victims of the plane crash, and now their previously unmarked grave bears their names.

And what's in a name?  Names represent who we are, names humanize us, names make us unique, names endear us to families and friends, names differentiate us from everybody else, names give us identity beyond "the other." In her 2003 release "Christmas in Washington," Joan Baez sings

Come back, Woody Guthrie
Come back to us now
Tear your eyes from Paradise
And rise again somehow

It appears to me that Woody Guthrie did, indeed, come back to right a wrong that had been done to these deportees, these people with names.

And in an ironic twist, it seems that Woody Guthrie rented a Brooklyn apartment in 1950, but was angered by the racism of his landlord, who found ways to prevent blacks from renting the units.  Guthrie was so outraged, he wrote a poem and a song about the evil landlord.  The landlord's name?  Fred Trump.  Yep, father of you-know-who.  You can't make this stuff up.

Just One Victory

Listen as you read:  https://youtu.be/zVatBy_4GpM

Somehow, someday
We need just one victory and we're on our way
Prayin' for it all day and fightin' for it all night
Give us just one victory, it will be all right

We may feel about to fall but we go down fighting
You will hear the call if you only listen
Underneath it all we are here together
Shining still to give us the will
Bright as the day, to show us the way

~  Todd Rundgren

Nope.  Not a political post.  Wait . . . maybe it is.

Today is World Cancer Day, a day devoted to raising awareness of this heartbreaking disease and the steps we can take to control its proliferation.  Every year, 8.2 million people die from cancer worldwide, and four million of those deaths are premature, taking the lives of people aged 30 - 69.  Ever since 9/11, I have been heard to say, "There's no terrorist like cancer."  And yet, we continue to focus our attention, our energy, and our funding primarily on human terrorists, and most specifically, those who constitute "the other," either by religious affiliation or nationality.  Cancer, on the other hand, is not selective in its victims.

"Just One Victory" appears on Todd Rundgren's incredible album A Wizard, A True Star, released in 1973.  The album received mixed reviews, and one needed only to compare the A-side with the B-side to understand the criticism.  Indeed, one must take on somewhat of a bi-polar ear in order to attempt to balance the disparate offerings.  But the exercise is worth it, especially when one is rewarded with the last track, "Just One Victory."

In 1998, my 41-year-old husband was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer.  His fight to survive, which included more surgeries, chemotherapies and radiation than I care to remember, ended with his death at age 45.  "Just One Victory" became our battle cry during his treatments.  And so it is no surprise that today, World Cancer Day, the song came to mind.  In recalling the lyrics, I could not help but see their application to present-day politics and a growing fear of the darkness ahead.

The time has come to take the bull by the horns
We've been so downhearted, we've been so forlorn
We get weak and we want to give in
But we still need each other if we want to win

Imagine if the money to be spent on building a wall was devoted instead to finding a cure for cancer? Imagine if research scientists from around the world were granted the opportunities to continue their work with the same financial security now provided to Wall Street?  Imagine if Big Pharma did not make profit its main objective in producing the medicines that may combat cancer?  Imagine if treatment for cancer was not limited by borders and bans which prevent those afflicted from seeking the best chances for survival?  Imagine if funding for education allowed for the great medical minds of the future to pursue the training they will need to find the cure?  Imagine.

We've been waiting so long
We've been waiting so long
We've been waiting for the sun to rise and shine
Shining still to give us the will

If there is to be just one victory, let it be this one.