I couldn't be happy in the city at night
You can't see the stars for the neon light
Sidewalk's dirty and the river's worse
The underground trains all run in reverse
Nobody here can dance like me
Everybody's clapping on the one and the three
Am I the last of my kind?
Am I the last of my kind?
So many people with so much to do
The winter's so cold, my hands turn blue
Old men sleeping on the filthy ground
They spend their whole day just walking around
Nobody else there seems to care
They walk right past them like they ain't even there
Am I the last of my kind?
Am I the last of my kind?
Daddy said the river would always lead me home
But the river can't take me back in time
And Daddy's dead and gone
The family farm's a parking lot for Walton's five and dime
Am I the last of my kind?
Am I the last of my kind?
I tried to go to college, but I didn't belong
Everything I said was either funny or wrong
They laughed at my boots, they laughed at my jeans
Laughed when they gave me amphetamines
Left me alone in a bad part of town
Thirty-six hours to come back down
Am I the last of my kind?
Am I the last of my kind?
Mama says God won't give you too much to bear
That might be true in Arkansas
But I'm a long, long way from there
That whole world's a lonely, faded picture in my mind
Am I the last of my kind?
Am I the last of my kind?
Am I the last of my kind?
~ Jason Isbell
I think this is the third Jason Isbell song I've included in this blog. So, yeah, the more I hear him, the more I like him. I heard this song on The Loft this morning, and it fit right in with what I've been reading and thinking about lately. "Last of My Kind" appears on Isbell's latest, The Nashville Sound, with The 400 Unit.
For the last few years, many of us have been acutely aware of how polarized our country has become, and with the 2016 election, that divide seems even greater. Sociology has always fascinated me, so I have spent a lot of time contemplating this polarization. I know that, as much as I cannot understand the ideology of others, they cannot understand mine, either. I don't think it's as simple as what news channel you listen to, although that is certainly a factor . . . and a scary one, at that. And "party loyalty" contributes to the divide. So does religion, socio-economic realities, apathy, ignorance, and the destruction of truth as we once knew it. Spin doctors, lobbyists, trend-setters, and advertising are complicit. So how in hell do we find our common ground again?
Two op-ed pieces in this morning's paper seemed to offer an explanation for our current state. In one, E.J. Dionne opined about the change in "neighborhoods." In the post-war years (and by that, I'm referring to WWII), we knew our neighbors. Most of us grew up with a sense of community. I know I did. (I can still tell you who lived in every single house in my little neighborhood five or six decades ago.) But Dionne suggests that we no longer know our neighbors. You can blame diversity, technology, stressful living, or air-conditioning . . . but basically, we seem to cloister ourselves in our little safety zones with no interest in who the people in our neighborhood are or what they believe or what talents they possess. We have become insular. Why?
The other op-ed was by the ("failing") New York Times' David Brooks. He suggested that this country has been divided into three blocks, and I think he is spot-on. One group consists of those who espouse white evangelical Protestantism that, at least on its public face, seems to care more about eros (sexual love) than caritas (Christian love of humanity). The second group is devoted to secular progressivism that is spiritually formed by feminism, environmentalism, and the quest for individual rights. And the third group supports "realist nationalism that gets its manners from reality TV and its spiritual succor from in-group / out-group solidarity."
I know in which group I fit. Do you know where you "belong"?
How to bring these three groups together? Unfortunately, I think one historically tested way is by waging war. Are you as scared as I am?
Isbell has made it clear in interviews that he is no longer the persona of his song, but that he once was. Politically minded, his songs often provide commentary on the current state of the union. Of "Last of My Kind," he said this: "I know a lot of people who are still stuck in that 'the country's gone to hell' feeling, and you try to remind them that 'Well, what about the Civil War? You must have missed that day in history class, because there were a lot of people watching from the bleachers as soldiers shit themselves to death.' This is not our lowest point. But I guess I was trying to understand the minds of folks who feel like they don't belong in the universal city that we sort of all wound up in."
"This is not our lowest point." Oh, dear.
No comments:
Post a Comment