Okay. Put down that turkey sandwich, and bear with me for a minute. We'll get the serious stuff out of the way first. Thanksgiving in America has become a holiday for food and family. That is a good thing. But there is a good argument for the position that this holiday arose from some very bad things. We're not going to go there. This isn't Thanksgiving-bashing or Pilgrim-bashing (although some of the things they did were really rotten, and those buckle hats, if they actually wore them, looked really stupid...).
There will be links requested tonight, as usual, so please, in deference to those of us on less-than-speedy intertoobz, post LINKS ONLY and NOT VIDEOS OR PICTURES, so everyone may participate!
Please follow me below the fold...
Today is Native American Heritage Day. My Great-Grandmother Tubby was Choctaw. Full-blood. Her husband, my Great-Grandfather, was half-blood. They assimilated into the Anglo world, lived in the rural South, farmed a very small acreage, and became "regular" Americans. Thanksgiving to them was just like it is to most of the rest of us. So, I guess, they took what was good about the idea of "Thanksgiving" and let the rest go. I do not remember much about Granny and Grandpa Tubby - they both died when I was very young, although I remember Granny's wonderful stories. I may or may not agree with their forgetting, but I respect that it worked for them. They took the bad (which they could not change) with the good, and emphasized the good. They were happy.
The Deepwater Horizon explosion and subsequent gusher was a bad thing, resulting in eleven human deaths, and we'll probably never know how much destruction to flora and fauna. It was, and remains, horrible. Catastrophic. No question about that. We don't know now just how bad it will prove to be; that remains to be seen. But Macondo 252 has brought some good for me - a network of friends I never would have found had it not been for BP's criminal negligence.
So, on this Thanksgiving, I do two things. I honor my Native American great-grandparents, who took the good with the bad, and made it, for them, all good. I will try to emulate them in a small way here.
I do not honor BP, their minions and enablers, for whom I meticulously shepherd a deep and exquisite hatred, and I will continue to try to do my small part in bringing light to the darkness that corporate control represents.
But I accept with joy that the horrible situation in the Gulf has brought me friends - marvelous friends from varied backgrounds, from all over the world, with wonderfully diverse interests, who willingly invite me into their brains and hearts for intelligent, enlightening conversation, and often, some downright glorious silliness...
For that, and for you all, I am truly and eternally thankful.
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Okay. That gets the seriousness out of the way. Now for the fun...
We've established that many of us are close to the same age. Communications in our earlier years, via television and radio, were beginning to make an impact on what we saw, heard, and subsequently, thought. So we probably have a common thread here - we grew up with the same music, even those of us who liked different genres. We always have music for the Block Party, but let's run a (semi-organized) narrative tonight. Here goes...
What song, when you were growing up, made you excited? Not just one you liked, or one that had a good beat to dance to, or a guitar lick that you learned. I want to know what touched you deeply. What song made you crank up the volume, roll down the windows, drive way too fast, and sing - loudly, and maybe badly - like there was no tomorrow, and today was the best ever? What made you forget Vietnam, the Cold War, all the injustice - and made you think you were hip, smart, sexy, invincible, and the world and it's future were at your feet? What song really lit your fire?
Tell me if that song, or several songs, made you think of that unreachable, unattainable, unrequited love, or your current (and maybe accessible) flame (or flames...) at the time, producing lust in your heart...or in other parts of your body...
Or tell me if your favorite song drove you to take up pen and sword to righteously fight against injustice, sing songs and carry signs and work for a better world.
Or tell me if a certain song merely brought you sublime joy in just being alive. Or...all of the above.
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Here's my list, in "videos" that were made, for the most part, from the album cuts, because that's the way my ears remember and want to hear them:
For that lust in your heart item, I offer the title track for this diary...
The Doors - Light My Fire
To me, just romantic as hell...Jefferson Airplane - Today
After a name change and a transportation upgrade, another selection, - which in my humble opinion could be our generation's Bolero... (Well, it's long enough, and it builds so s l o w l y and tantalizingly...and the lyrics are pretty damn straightforward.)
Jefferson Starship - Miracles
For the next question, for the purposes of songs and signs, I offer the obvious:
Buffalo Springfield - For What It's Worth
For what we still need to do, with all the vigor that our ancient bodies can muster...
Jefferson Airplane - Volunteers
And lest we forget (how can we) like the Sixties, our alien overlords continue to force participation in illegal wars...
Let the Sunshine In - from the movie Hair (The movie version; a little later than the 60s, but still so relevant today.)
For introspection, and the idea we should be free and not caged:
It's A Beautiful Day - White Bird
And finally, the song I would crank up while driving my 1962 Galaxie 500 (named Alice) down Highway 59 to New Orleans for an evening of music at the Warehouse on Tchoupitoulas...
Uriah Heep - Easy Living
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Okay, my friends - children of the Sixties and beyond, in both directions; Boomers all...
Have at it! Bare your bodies and your souls! Sex, drugs, and rock and roll! (Or anything else you might like...)