(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Brownsville
Girl”
Album: Knocked Out Loaded
Release Date: July
1986
The below was written in the spirit of Bob
Dylan’s (and Sam Shepard’s) majestic “Brownsville Girl” ( https://vimeo.com/183524348 ):
Well
there was this cowboy hat I wore one time
On a ’93
trip across Western Texas, which I borrowed from my Dad
Who
purchased it 8 years earlier at the Boston College-won Cotton Bowl in Dallas
I’ve
never worn a Stetson before or since; it was a very short-term fad
Well,
Dad wore that cowboy hat through the winter and spring of ‘85
The funny
thing about it was, we live in Massachusetts, far from cattle country
Another
strange twist was that Dad never really could care less about cowboys
This all
influenced me; respect, curiosity, and the leaf never too far from the tree
Well,
I keep seeing this stuff and it just comes a-rolling in
Leaving
high water marks in its wake; memories that don’t decay
She’s
driving with me from San Anton’ toward Mexico and the Rio Grande
Hot
springs, roadrunners, pronghorn, canyons; the beauty makes it feel as if
yesterday
I can
still remember that first border town of Del Rio not far upstream of
Brownsville
We
were on our own now, and feeling the freedom of the road
That
river was flowing, that city was vibrant, that bridge was teaming with people
This
was different for us, but we believed in each other, it showed
Well
we drove that car all day, up the Rio Grande, and into Big Bend National Park
All the
while thinkin’ back on the week, your cousin, aunt, uncle, and the Alamo
You
were in your element there, family oh so important
You
carried that forward with a flair, a smile and a glow
Well,
we’re driving this car and we are stalled by the crossing of peccaries
But now
my mind is blown away, we are indeed in a different world
And I’m
mesmerized by you, the night, the stars, the desert,
the
looming Chisos Mountains just waiting to be explored
Big
Bend’s ocotillo, yucca, and agave soon to be unfurled
Big
Bend Girl with your Big Bend Curls
Teeth
like pearls shining like the moon above
Big
Bend Girl, show me all around the world
Big
Bend Girl, you’re my honey love
Well,
we headed up into the Chisos and soon we were on horseback
My
stallion quite aggressive, nipping at everything in sight
And
we crossed the Rio Grande into Mexico, the remoteness almost elusive
Baking
under that desert sun, we slipped into a small dark saloon
Nobody
there but us, the grizzled bartender, and two tough hombres’
It
was like a scene in Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, but we blended in,
unobtrusive
Back
in the Chisos we hiked to the highest among them
I
veered off the beaten path for a moment and soon was being circled by vultures
They
swooped in low, I didn’t know whether to duck or run, so I ran
Later
while sitting by our campfire, dozens of large bats in the tree above
Keep
an eye on the sky…. was this all some effect of being in the land of ancient
cultures?
Further
up the Rio Grande the next day in Lajitas we were on the edge of nowhere
The
road like a roller coaster, several times I swear we were airborne
We stopped
into a small diner, it was surreal, it was all black and white, no color
The waitress
speaking in tongues, I could see she was reborn
Something
about that cowboy hat though, I just can’t get it out of my head
It was
way more than the novelty, I’m sure that I was aiming for something much higher
Was I
searching for an America that once was, or maybe never was?
People
approached me differently; perhaps the hat being what was required
Big
Bend Girl with your Big Bend Curls
Teeth
like pearls shining like the moon above
Big
Bend Girl, show me all around the world
Big
Bend Girl, you’re my honey love
The sky
was the limit now, could we shoot for El Paso?
Thinking
back on my 2-week journey had me aiming for more of the real McCoy
I
started out on my own in Chicago, stranded there by a blizzard
Roaming
the streets with Mac and that hat on my head, the aura of Midnight Cowboy
My
real first destination was Mobile, Alabama, where I would be stuck inside for a
week
But my
Chicago flight had me touching down in New Orleans
I
took in the French Quarter before driving my way East along the Gulf of Mexico
Lake
Pontchartrain, Gulfport and Biloxi, Mississippi
Hugging
the coast, as I would the Rio Grande the following week…by all means.
I was
feeling the music, I was feeling the vibes
Down
on the bayou, alligators, grits, and moonshine
I got
out ahead of the snowstorm, others from the Boston area were stranded
A work
week in Mobile ahead, along with two heady presentations
And a
depressed economy reflected in a downtown in need of a lifeline
The
cowboy hat worked out a little better here though than it did in Chicago
But
it would not kick into high gear until I landed in San Anton’
It
worked in the Missions, it worked at the market place, and worked at the
carnival
And it
worked with her family, deep discussions that knocked you right down to the
bone
Big Bend Girl with your Big Bend Curls
Teeth like pearls shining like the moon
above
Big Bend Girl, show me all around the
world
Big Bend Girl, you’re my honey love
Alas El
Paso was not to be; we headed North after hitting Presidio
Saying
so long to the Rio Grande as we veered off from its meanders
The border
patrol eyed us suspiciously, our car having been through the mill
But
there would be giant telescopes, caves, and petroglyphs all worthy of a gander
When
I got home I returned that cowboy hat to my Dad, the wisdom of its ways now
complete
It
was complete for him too, this a fact many years earlier, I never saw Dad wear
it again
Neither
of us needed to, we had both heeded its soothsaying non-verbal advice
Doing
our best to help veer the good ship forward,
In our
faith and how we interact with our contacts, our spouses, families and friends
Big
Bend Girl with your Big Bend Curls
Teeth
like pearls shining like the moon above
Big
Bend Girl, show me all around the world
Big
Bend Girl, you’re my honey love
- Pete
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Changing of the
Guards”
Album: Street Legal
Release Date: June
1978
I was reminded this week by a friend of a
key reason why I started this Music and
Memory blog site in the first place; to try and explain the unique experience
of being a teenager in the United States in the 1970s, and maybe even more
importantly, to explain the after effects of having lived it. Those 70s years have crossed my mind off and
on over the course of this Master
Blueprint series, but to date I’ve not tapped that well nearly to the degree
that I had done for my 3 earlier year-long series on the Rolling Stones (Stepping Stones in 2012), Neil Young (Forever Young in 2014), and the Who (Under the Big Top in 2016).
Perhaps there has simply been too much
water under the bridge at this stage.
Forty years; that is a long window of time to reconnect to anything. I had expressed concern about this way back
when I started that first series (Stepping
Stones) six years ago when I turned 50, thinking I was reaching some sort
of demarcation line. To some degree, I’m
pretty sure I was right. Another thought
that came to mind this week was that perhaps I’d gotten it all out of my system
with those earlier series. But then I
thought, well, maybe these connections have become so infused with all this
writing that the thought process related to those times has shifted from the conscious
to the subconscious. Yeah, there ya go….
I’m running with that last one. This
entry then will be an attempt to bring that 70s focus back to the conscious.
Bob Dylan’s Street Legal album has such a solid 70s sound to it, with no song
better highlighting that period-production than the opening number, “Changing
of the Guards” ( https://vimeo.com/259868644 ). This is a
very complicated song, due mainly to the lyrics. Others have tried to break it down. I did not try to do that to any great degree
here. What I did do, however was tap
into that sound throughout the week, in an effort to bring back those old
memories once again, this despite the fact that the song and the album were a
million miles from my mind at the time of release. And yet…. maybe in my
subconscious it wasn’t that far away after all.
First off, a cool observation I made this
week: I was 16 years old when Street Legal was released in 1978, which
just so happens to be the opening line on that opening track, “Changing of the
Guards”:
“Sixteen
years
Sixteen
banners united over the field
Where
the good shepherd grieves
Desperate
men, desperate women divided
Spreading
their wings ‘neath the falling leaves”
Bob Dylan could have been singing about
himself here. He’d been recording for 16
years at that point, having released his first, eponymous-titled album in 1962,
the year I was born. Yes, he had been
around a while, and at this stage of the game he could have indeed felt that there
was a changing of the guards playing out…. Rock and Roll guards that is. Pete
Townshend clearly felt this way, the Who releasing just around the same time
the extremely underrated album Who Are
You, which was all about a changing of the guards (Townshend, desperately
hoping this would be a positive development, with the then advent of Punk, and
he willing to fall on his own sword to witness it (See Under the Big Top # 10: https://pete-gemsandbeyond.blogspot.com/2016/03/under-big-top-10-who-album-review-who.html ).
These thoughts brought me back to a few
months ago, when my sister Jen and her husband Dale hosted a dinner party for
my wife Nancy and I, along with Jen’s and my cousin Becca and her husband and my
longtime friend, Dave, as well as another great friend of all of ours,
Mac. The seven of us wined, dined and
grooved the night away. In the midst of it all, Jen and Dale began tossing out
verbal requests to their sound system for songs, with “Alexa” responding to
each demand as if we were the lucky first callers on the request-line of a
popular radio station. Now, I may be a bit antiquated – ok I am – but this was
a first for me. Anyhow we had a lot of fun with it, each of us ultimately
calling out a handful of our very favorite songs and building on one another’s
concepts and themes.
The music of Bob Dylan eventually slipped
into the playlist, but it was not my doing, it was Mac’s. We had begun delving into a Latino music theme
when Mac came up with the seminal “Señor” request to Alexa (see
Master Blueprint # 5). It’s not a Latino
song per se, but, well… if you’re still reading this, I’m pretty sure you get
it. Anyhow, from there the conversation
swayed to the host album for “Señor”, which as
you may have concluded, is also the host album of this week’s Master Blueprint.
Dave was asking questions about it; Mac and I were offering our critique. This reminded me of Mac and Dave bringing me
up to speed all those years ago as we listened to the entirety Who Are You on the radio not long after
its release.
Mac, Dave and I go way back…. to 16 years
old and beyond. We’ve always valued each
other’s insights on just about any topic, but most particularly when it comes
to music. This has worked out
tremendously for one and all over the years, because each of us has helped the
other climb his own proverbial Tower of Song, which has played out between the
three of us in countless concert halls, on turntables, in heavy discussions, as
well as while listening to those aforementioned nocturnal emissions on car
radios. The process was baby steps for
me at first. I had a solid foundation
with the Beatles by the time I turned 16, but this love affair was kinda
becoming a stranglehold. If I was ever
going to be multidimensional with my musical knowledge, I needed to start
building on top of that Fab Four base.
The first floor built on that Beatles
basement of my personal Tower of Song was interesting and all over the
map: Albums like Joe Jackson’s Look Sharp, the Cars first, self-titled
album, Rush’s Permanent Waves,
Supertramp’s Breakfast in America, and
Tom Petty’s Damn the Torpedoes, all
of which were released in the late 70s.
But talk within my circles gave me insights that these popular selling
albums were or would-soon-be underlain by deeper, lesser known material by
these same artists, of which the only offense was that this other material was
simply not as commercial sounding. For
example, in the years following his debut, Look
Sharp, Joe Jackson would be releasing Jumpin’
Jive, a classic, underappreciated effort. Many ‘fans’ would soon be jumping
off his bandwagon and on to other commercial endeavors by other artists. Not Mac.
He helped open my eyes to the treasures buried in Jackson’s and many other
great musician’s discographies. I dug
deeper with the Cars as well, tuning into their second album, the more seasoned
“Candy-O”. Even though these musicians were not at the
top of the Rock and Roll heap, this kind of rounding out was extremely
important in completing the first floor to my Tower of Song.
At the same time, I was flirting with the
heavy hitters, but it would take some time to break free of their greatest hits. Indeed, by the late 70s I was listening to
the Kinks (Kronikles), the Rolling
Stones (Hot Rocks), and Neil Young (Decade), getting my feet wet so to
speak. The puzzle pieces were coming
together. A big breakthrough would be
that evening in the car with Mac and Dave, listening to the Who Are You album for the first time, where
my Tower of Song would soon begin to add floors at a far more rapid rate. This was an original studio album, released
during my coming of age, and by a top tier band. The sky was now the limit.
That same summer and fall of 1978, the
Rolling Stones would release Some Girls,
Neil Young came out with Comes a Time,
Bruce Springsteen released Darkness on
the Edge of Town, and Elvis Costello gave us This Year’s Model. And
amidst all this creativity, there was Bob Dylan rolling out that
under-the-radar, 70’s-sound album Street
Legal. Listening to it reminds me of
one of the great things about Bob Dylan: Each decade he’s morphed his sound,
with so many others often carrying suit. I mean, he basically created the 60s
sound. But despite that lofty
achievement, he never hung his hat on that success. He just continued to build on it with new
floors.: His own personalized Tower of Song.
Franklin, Massachusetts was a small, rural
New England town in the 70s, with more woods than neighborhoods. It was an
idyllic world for that 70s sound. I’ve
said this before in this series, but it’s worth saying again: In the 60s, music
was simply a part of the scene, but in the 70s, the music was the scene, at least for young impressionable teens like Mac,
Dave and me. What was especially great
about the vibe was that we had 2 decades of material to work with. In other words, until Punk, the 70s was not
only about its own evolution of sound but it was also about honoring the
generation of music that was made in that prior renegade decade. Several musicians who persevered from one
decade to the next helped to gel these two generations of sound, including Pete
Townshend, Ray Davies, Joni Mitchell, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Neil Young,
and of course Bob Dylan.
Even though I have no recollection of
“Changing of the Guards” or anything else on Street Legal upon its release, I’d like to believe I took it in
somewhere. Maybe it was on my drive to
work one evening, listening to WBCN in my white button shirt and black pants,
to bus tables at Welik’s Coach House Restaurant. Maybe it was in the attic of good friend
Bruce, who benefited from having older hip siblings, each of them having left
behind many of their albums as they spread their respective wings on their own
individual journeys. Maybe it was on a
boombox, by a fire, during the infamous “Bucko’s Keg” gatherings deep in the
woods. Or perhaps on the turntable in
the party-central mansion-home of friend George. The song and album have that type of ring of
familiarity to them. That bygone era,
when Dave, Mac and I ruled the world.
- Pete
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Shooting Star”
Album: Oh Mercy
Release Date: September
1989
I can’t recall if I’ve ever had to travel 3
weeks in a row for work before, but I just completed such an undertaking. The multi-part journey included five
presentations at four meeting/conference related destinations in Ottawa Ontario
(Canada), Saratoga Springs New York, Augusta Maine, and Baltimore
Maryland. In each case, I decided to
drive rather than fly, which added up to 2300 miles of road network, roughly
the equivalent of a coast-to-coast trek from Savanah Georgia to San Diego
California. Saratoga was a no-brainer
for this mode of travel, but Ottawa and Baltimore are at the very edges of what
I will consider for automobile travel for work; both destinations being
precisely 400 miles away from my Massachusetts home. As a matter of fact, in the case of
Baltimore, I’ve more-often-than-not chosen air travel in the past…there’s
simply too much Jersey Turnpike between here and there. Ottawa, which is also a
frequent destination, is a bit more complicated with air travel - related to
bureaucracy - the explanation of which is beyond the scope of this blog entry.
I chose to drive to all these destinations
for 2 reasons. First off, it allowed me
to listen to a lot of Bob Dylan, including studio albums as diverse as Empire Burlesque, Street Legal, Knocked Out
Loaded, and Oh Mercy, along with Live 1962-1966: Rare Performances from the
Copyright Collections (which served me for the last blog entry) and other
stuff. I listened to Dylan as I drove
along Route 2, which connects the picturesque Lake Champlain island-chain in
Northern Vermont. I listened as I spanned
immense rivers, including the St. Lawrence, the Ottawa, the Susquehanna, the
Hudson, the Delaware, the Housatonic and the Connecticut. I listened as I made my way through 10 States
and 2 Provinces. I listened as I took in
the beauty of the fall colors, the rustic, rural villages, the snow-capped
mountains and the evening starlit skies.
The second reason was so I could have the flexibility
to connect with good friends who live in or near the cities I visited, as well
as the regions I travelled through. All seven friends I reached out to
responded in the affirmative, and in each case, the given friend went out of
his/her way in one form or another to make it happen. It was touching and reminded me that the
friendships I’ve forged over the years - many now scattered across the North
American landscape and beyond - are strong and long lasting. But it also reminded me that so much in our
lives can be fleeting, and that we must seize moments like these when we
can. Frankly, I could have thrived
solely on the friendships I’ve made with current colleagues on these trips….my daylight
work connections. Off the top of my head
I can think of at least 20 of them. However,
the extra-curricular bonding with my longstanding friends made these trips far
more meaningful and memorable, and so those are the ties that really stand out.
Despite all that Bob Dylan listening, I’d
had little to show for it regarding this entry as I made my way home through
New Jersey and New York this past Thursday.
Usually, I have an abundance of chicken-scratch notes to draw from as my
work week winds down, but not this time.
One thing I had done was zero in on the closing number off Oh Mercy, “Shooting Star” as my forty
first Master Blueprint. It’s a song of such deep faith-based yearning
( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXTElsREny4 ), including this appeal to God:
"Seen a shooting star tonight
And I thought of me
If I was still the same
If I every became what you wanted me to be
Did I miss the mark or over-step the line
That only you could see?
Seen a shooting star tonight
And I thought of me”
Side note:
The above URL includes 2 outtakes of “Shooting Star” each of which have
lyrics that I’d never heard before until this write up. One line goes “Seen a shooting star tonight against the grain / Up in the hotrod sky,
‘cross the prairies of Maine”, which kinda blew my mind seeing as that line
in a nutshell was what I physically and mentally experienced two weeks ago on
the part of my 3-week odyssey that took me to Augusta.
Anyhow, I could have run with a religious
theme here, but I’ve often delved deep into faith in these Bob Dylan-centric
blog entries this year (which was inevitable, as I knew would be the case when
I decided to write a series inspired by this musician). And since I am likely
to do so at least one more time before I put a bow on these Master Blueprints, I made up my mind
that I needed to take a slightly different tact this go around. But where was I to turn? What could I focus on? Fortunately, “Shooting Star” includes yearnings
of the much more earthlier kind (this type of blending is one of many ways that
makes Bob Dylan so fascinating) including these lyrics:
“Seen
a shooting star tonight
And I thought of you
You were trying to break into another world
A world I never knew
I always kind of wondered
If you ever made it through
Seen a shooting star tonight
And I thought of you”
And so, with all this in mind, I’m at the
tail end of my journey this past Thursday evening, sitting at the funky music
venue, Darryl’s House, in Pawling New York, with good friend, and former
colleague, Jeff. We are watching Jim
Lauderdale perform (who half way through his excellent set, blurted out the between-song
poignant statement “The Von Trapp Family is escaping!”, which many in the crowd
did not seem to get…. but I did). I’d pretty much let go my quest for “Shooting
Star” inspiration for the time being when suddenly it hit me: For the past 3 weeks I’d been connecting with
shooting stars in my life… those wonderful friendships I’d rekindled with in Ottawa,
Saratoga, Montpellier, Baltimore and Pawling New York. Without further ado, here’s a rundown of
those Fall of 2018 ‘Magnificent Seven’ connections:
Luc:
A friend since 1982. Luc has been
in a wheelchair his entire adult life. He’s handled it all with grace and belly-laugh
humor. We bond on many levels, because, like myself, Luke is a deep
thinker. He’s also an author, having
written a biography (in French) of his personal journey, which includes details
of the accident that changed his life, as well as the long road of rehab. Luke has been bedridden for several months
due to a bad sore that needed heeling and was just on the cusp of getting a
little time in the upright position when I arrived in Ottawa. He made it a point to work me into this tight
schedule.
Being a fellow writer, Luc connects with me
on this level as well. He’s been one of
my best supporters in this blog endeavor of mine. We talked quite a bit about the blog. We also talked about his recent setback and
about the demands on my work life these days.
On my way out, Luc stopped me, looked me in the eyes and told me that he
saw a bit of burnout in my face. He made the case that life is too short to get
over worked-up about demands on the job and pleaded that I consider easing my
foot off the gas pedal. It’s advice that
could only come from a close friend. I’ll
try to heed it.
Shooting Stars.
Pat: A friend since 1982. Upon my last day in Ottawa, I visited Pat at
his home in Stittsville, about 30 minutes southwest of the city. I stayed overnight, as has been my modus
operandi every time I’ve visited Ottawa for work over the past 10 years. Pat
and Sharon’s door is always open for me in generosity and good spirit. Pat was in training for a new position at his
workplace the week I was there, but this did not deter him from finding a way
to fit me in. The two of us have
experienced quite a bit together over the last 36 years, which has included he and
Sharon making frequent visits to my neck of the woods the past 7 or so summers. This evolving tradition unfortunately did not
pan out this summer, which I felt primarily responsible for. It was with that thought on my conscience
when I knocked on Pat’s front door. I was soon swept away from such thoughts,
however, by Pat’s warm greeting and the crack of a beer bottle opening.
Pat can discuss with you in significant
detail just about any topic that comes to mind, from totem poles, to black
holes, to Dead Sea Scrolls. Years ago,
when I started doing Music and Memory
writeups for friends and family, Pat saw something in my style and recommended
I read Robert Pirsig’s masterpiece, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. That book had quite the effect. I reflected on this with Pat and told him
about an encounter I had with a nice fellow at a bar earlier that week as I was
watching the Boston Red Sox putting another beating on the Los Angeles Dodgers
on their final march to World Series glory.
Out of the blue, the guy in the Ottawa bar recommended Lila, the follow up to Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
It reminded me so much of Pat’s
recommendation years earlier. Zen
indeed.
Shooting Stars.
Jamie:
A friend since 1989. Jamie and I originally
met at work. The friendship was instantaneous. I hooked up with him at his home in
Montpellier Vermont on my way back from Ottawa.
Jamie cut short his work day to connect.
I met up with his family and from there, he took me down to a local
baseball field, where his son proceeded to strut his pitching prowess. Pretty
impressive. Jamie has been a relentless ally in guiding my daughter Charlotte
on her career path, with sage advice. Years ago, he hooked Nancy and I up with
a close friend of his as we toured the Black Forest region of Germany. That friend took us in and served us arguably
the best meal of our entire trip across Europe that glorious summer of ’89. Jamie looks you right in the eye when you
talk with him. I always know I’ve got
his rapt attention every time we converse.
Coincidentally, Jamie is one of four of the
Fall of 2018 Magnificent Seven whom I visited with this week who were all once
part of a camping caravan every spring and fall (the others being Kernell,
Saiping and Jeff, and I’ll also include a friend named Harlow in this crew, who
I visited with on a work trip to Albuquerque New Mexico in September). I organized these weekend camping and hiking trips
in the seven or so autumns before Charlotte was born; my earliest years with
the US Geological Survey. Jamie taught
me the joy of field guides, be they guides on identifying trees, insects,
birds, mushrooms, aquatic invertebrates, you name it. Hikes soon morphed from the concept of
conquering mountain peaks to one of stopping and smelling the roses.
Shooting Stars.
Mike: A friend since 2006. I include one current colleague here as
representative of all current colleagues who I have connected with these past 3
weeks, including Kim, Mike L, Judy, Carol, Larry, Dan, Jen, Mike W, Cary, Marie-Eve, Mike M (yes, plenty of Mikes), and many others. Mike and I met when he shouted out “Is that THE Pete Steeves” from across
the Captain Daniel Patrick Inn pub in Mystic Connecticut upon my entrance, during
a regional GIS conference there in 2006 (“NEARC”; the same one I attended in
Saratoga Springs 2 weeks ago). We’ve
been laughing ever since. Mike is a
go-getter, a self-made entrepreneur who has done very well for himself. How he looks up to this civil servant, I’ll
never know. I appreciate it though,
because I believe there is huge value in what I do, and it’s good to see when
someone in the private sector recognizes it.
Mike’s Dad and my Dad joined us at last
year’s NEARC in Newport Rhode Island, for the Tuesday evening banquet
event. It was a highlight moment for me;
my Dad taking in my work world, yukking it up with Mike’s Dad, and the four of
us getting a hoot out of each other. Mike
invited me to his farm last year, and I watched in absolute hilarity as he ran
out into the middle of the mud strewn pig pen to feed his hogs, who were
chasing after him. There was abject fear
in Mike’s eyes at the thought of slipping.
I believe I got particular enjoyment out of it because, if the roles
were reversed, he’d have no doubt reacted in kind.
Shooting Stars.
Saiping: A friend since 1988. When people ask me who I credit launching my
career path, without hesitation I say “Saiping”. I’d already been hired by USGS as a GIS
staffer when I met Saiping, who was already working in the GIS wing of the office. My experience with the software to that date
was pretty standard. Saiping put it into
overdrive, showing me the ropes with programming, which oriented me in a much
more fascinating and sought-after direction, ultimately leading to national and
international endeavors. Saiping was
patient with me, a trait which comes across in her general demeanor.
It was so great to see Saiping again. She made the hour drive north to Baltimore
from the Washington D.C. region to connect, having to curtail an evening of
dinner and fun with a larger crowd, due to an unexpected conflict. That worked out just fine: We bumped up our rendezvous, and so I ended
up having quality one on one time with her instead. It had been a while; longer than anyone else
on this Fall of 2018 Magnificent Seven crew.
We reminisced on this fact some, silently absorbing how quickly time can
pass by. Saiping’s name means ‘duckweed’
in Mandarin Chinese. Her one sibling, Maiping’s
name, means beautiful. We laughed about
this from the perspective of her parents and what they were thinking with their
naming conventions. It’s about as far as
Saiping will go with biting humor. I’m
good with that. Better yet, I’m graced
with that.
Shooting Stars.
Kernell: A friend since 1989. Kernell broke away from an extended family
visit to join me in Baltimore for an evening of fun and games (billiards). Here is another name that’s worthy of a
little commentary. I’ve been connected
with Kernell longer than anyone in my professional circles. I’m honored to state this, as I will explain,
but on the very frequent occurrence when I’ve been in a position to talk about
Kernell, I’ve had to explain that I was not going all military on everyone,
seeing as the term ‘colonel’ is uttered in identical fashion. Well, as I mentioned
in my speech at his retirement party, saluting was not a problem for me in the
end.
If Saiping launched my career path, Kernell
sustained it. Together we developed unarguably
one of the most innovative products in the USGS in the past 20 years; that
being StreamStats ( https://water.usgs.gov/osw/streamstats/
). At that dinner gathering in Baltimore
- the one Saiping had to miss - we sat next to one another. Kernell opened up to me on things going on in
his personal life. We all have to confront turmoil at one time or another. It
was nice that he would want to welcome my thoughts. He has done the same for me over the
years. Such a peaceful, soul, Kernell. I wish the best for him always. Many years ago, when Kernell was leaving the
Massachusetts USGS office to work in headquarters after 20 plus years, I noted
in yet another speech that he looked far younger than his age at the time; so
much so that he must have been running home from USGS in his earliest years to
play Kick the Can with his buddies. May Kernell stay forever young.
Shooting Stars.
Jeff: A friend since 1989. Jeff went out of his way to connect with me, searching
out a good concert along my ride home and then driving several hours east from
his Pennsylvania household to join me.
We ended up catching that aforementioned Jim Lauderdale show in Pauling
New York. Jeff is another ex-colleague as well as a true music aficionado, having
attended more concerts than anyone else I know.
He is also a very generous friend, having sent me an endless supply of
homemade CDs and DVDs of shows he has witnessed over the years, as well as
others he’s taped off radio interviews, etc.
Aside from all that, he’s simply an open honest friend.
Jeff is a key reason I can say I connect
with Bob Dylan’s music. Same goes for so
many other musicians, including Townes Van Zandt, Joan Baez, Graham Parsons,
Sean Colvin, and many others. Like Jamie, Jeff also has a strong connection
with the biodiversity around him. The
morning after the show we took in a short hike up the road, Jeff pointing out a
number of flora species endemic to the region.
He spends most of his time in his 3-acre yard, planting, weeding, and
pruning. He reaps what he sows, which in
his case is pretty darn rewarding.
Shooting Stars.
- Pete
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Chimes of
Freedom”
Album: Another Side of Bob Dylan
Release Date: August
1964
Several weeks ago, a retired colleague,
Chris, who reads my blogs, sent me the link to an October 12, 2018 Opinion article in the New York Times
titled “10 Great Protest Songs” ( https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/12/opinion/loudon-wainwright-protest-songs.html ). To my
surprise, the last entry in the list (presumably # 1) was “America the Beautiful”,
in its original, unsanitized form, which is unknown to most of us. As discussed in the article, that Kathy Lee
Bates version includes such lines as “America,
America, God shed his grace on thee. Till selfish gain no longer stain the
banner of the free”, and “Till nobler
men keep once again thy shining jubilee”.
“America the Beautiful”: A protest song indeed….and stripped of some of
its strength in our much more familiar version.
Around the same time, on a call home from
Panama, daughter Charlotte was lamenting a handful of national fiascos here in
the States in a never-ending wave of them (I can’t recall the specifics, but at
this stage you can just pick em’ out of a hat).
My daughter is an environmental scientist working in the tropics. Like her Dad, Charlotte struggles regularly
as she observes the lack of political willpower to tackle crucial issues like climate
change, made all the worse in the past two years with the reverse now actually
playing out; the United States having pulled out of the Paris Agreement
altogether making our homeland the only industrialized country in the world not
partaking in this critical international collaborative.
Charlotte considers today’s status quo as a
war on the environment, a thought she expressed on that call, and I couldn’t
agree more. How to respond to such
ignorance? Well, we talked about a
handful of ways people are doing this, which reminded me of protest songs and
that New York Times article. This lead
to my bringing up Bob Dylan’s early-60s protest songs, including the
no-holds-barred “Masters of War”. Since
Charlotte has been reading my blog entries, she then suggested I do a Blue Print about that one.
I’ve yet to write on Bob Dylan’s early
protest songs to any great degree, but I had planned to all along. And so, between Chris, Charlotte, and especially
the buildup of all that has played out on the national stage these past 2 years,
I was getting the hint that the time had arrived. It’s difficult however, because in the
context of this blog series I typically try not to pass judgement, and “Masters
of War” is as finger-pointing of a song as one could imagine. However, what I can do here is shine a light
on the ideals which I find to be righteous in the hope that the antithesis can
be revealed. So instead of a “Masters of War” focus, I’ve decided to tackle its
polar-opposite “Chimes of Freedom” ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LVIWA9VTiN8 ).
“Chimes of Freedom” is Bob Dylan’s version
of the Sermon on the Mount, a beautiful, heartfelt song of admiration. Here he recognizes…. the unarmed refugee, the underdog soldier (“in the night”), the
luckless, the rebel, the rake, the abandoned (“and forsaked”), the outcast
(“burnin’ constantly at stake”), the gentle, the kind, the "guardians and protectors of the mind" the "unpawned painter behind/beyond his rightful time (*
note the fantastic poetry in behind/beyond),
the deaf, the blind, the mute, the mistreated mateless mother, the mistitled
prostitute, the misdemeanor outlaw (“chased an’ cheated by pursuit”), the
lonesome-hearted lovers (“with too personal a tale”), the searching ones (“on
their speechless, seeking trail”), the unharmful gentle souls misplaced inside
a jail, the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts, the aching ones whose
wounds cannot be nursed, the countless confused accused misused strung-out ones
an’ worse, and finally “every hung-up person in the whole wide universe”.
The definition of protest is “a solemn
declaration”, which Bob Dylan empathizes with in “Chimes of Freedom” for each characterization
in the previous paragraph. Last week I
drove seven hours north for a work trip from Massachusetts to Ottawa, Ontario,
Canada. As I was nearing my destination
I decided to reflect on my own observations of freedom chimers, while listening
repeatedly to that song. What played out
in a 2-hour time-span were seven mental connections to both the people in my
personal life and those in the public eye (actors, musicians, politicians,
other newsmakers). I’ve fleshed out all
7 of those domino-connections below, followed by an abbreviated collection of other,
more determined thoughts that came to me afterwards. Without further ado:
Ok, well, perhaps it was because I was on a
work trip, but the first thought that hit me was of a genuine, generous
colleague, Silvia, who work-travels in similar circles as myself. The two of us were in Austin, Texas about 5
years ago, and after a long day’s meeting we headed uptown to the Congress Ave
Bridge over the Colorado River (not that
Colorado River, but a much smaller, albeit significant one in west Texas) to
catch a natural phenomenon: Thousands of Mexican Free-Tailed Bats uniformly leaving
their roosts under the bridge to fly off and feed at night. We were hanging out waiting for the action to
commence when a homeless guy who called himself “Batman” approached us in a
somewhat tattered ‘batman’ outfit. This benign
gentleman, with obvious mental challenges, offered a small token pin with a bat
on it, hoping for a couple of bucks in return. I had no cash on me, and Silvia
only had a $20. She accepted the pin and
handed him the bill without hesitation, while also engaging with Batman in a kindly,
compassionate way. A relatively minor expression
of good will, sure, but revealing to the true character of this colleague. This reflection was a perfect one to begin
delving into my Ottawa car-ride chain of thoughts. Silvia, striking for the
gentle: Chimes of freedom.
With “bridge” as metaphor (in more ways
than one), I suddenly found myself recalling an article I had read 13 years ago
about New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.
This article included several paragraphs where the keen-eyed author had
spotted an unassuming famous person on an off-the-beaten-path uptown bridge helping
the downtrodden one at a time in whatever way he could; sweat, toil and all. When I first read this story, my brain was
apparently not functioning properly seeing as, where the words on the page were
recognizing actor Sean Penn’s actions, I was mentally interpreting the name as ‘Sean
Hannity’ of Fox News claim. Immediately,
I began to second-guess my belief-system, thinking ‘wow, there’s a humanitarian in Sean Hannity after all’. A day later I proceeded to show my wife the
article and at that moment realized my error:
My views of quality persona had not been challenged after all (which was
in some ways disappointing). Sean Penn (not Hannity) striking for the
underdog soldier in the night: Chimes of freedom.
From there, I thought of humanitarians in
my own life, near the top of that list being my late, great Aunt Ginger, a
Dominican Sister (Nun), whom I have written about before. Sister Virginia Smith had made many
humanitarian gestures in her too-short-a-time on Earth, with one of these being
of special fascination to me. It was a
trip my Aunt had made to Southeast Asia near the end of the Vietnam War in 1975,
to address the safety of the local Dominican Sisters as the world was
collapsing around them. The writing was
on the wall that the South was soon to be overtaken. Chaos and finger pointing were already
kicking in. These nuns were facing persecution
from many directions. Ginger headed
right into the danger, bombs dropping around her in several of the regions she
visited. I believe this experience had a huge influence, and that my aunt came
back home even deeper in her faith-centric convictions than when she had
left. Aunt Ginger, striking for the unharmful gentle
souls misplaced inside a jail: Chimes of freedom.
With that said, my thoughts then jumped to
capital punishment and actress Susan Sarandon’s moving portrayal of Sister
Helen Prejean in the based-on-true-story film Dead Man Walking. Sarandon’s
portrayal has always reminded me of my Aunt Ginger (that mind-leap of mine could
also very likely have been related to the prior-mentioned Sean Penn, who
co-starred in Dead Man Walking). I soon found myself thinking too of former
New York Governor Mario Cuomo, who once signed an affidavit while in public
office, which stated in so many words that if he or anyone close to him was
ever killed in a violent way, that the death penalty be off the table. The ability to forgive is a blessed thing,
which includes an understanding that we are not to be the final judge. Mario Cuomo and Sister Helen Prejean, striking
for the countless, confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse:
Chimes of freedom.
No doubt by this stage I had a higher power
on my mind as my thoughts again drifted, this time to a preacher in my hometown
of Pepperell, Bob, who periodically sits at the corner table of a popular local
diner with a bible and preaches to the few who are willing to stop and listen. Bob is a fiery vociferous soul, but he speaks
truth. I’ve granted him my ear on
several occasions when I’ve had the time to do so. He rarely strays from his biblical discourse,
and if he does, it is only to make a faith-centered point from a slightly
different perspective. Bob has talked to
me in eye-opening ways about his father’s conversion late in life and explained
in passionate detail several Biblical passages, including one that really stuck
with me about the reason Jesus asked Peter 3 times if he loved him (John 21:
15-17), which was better than any explanation I’d ever heard in church. Rarely do the folks in town heed his words,
but this does not deter him. Bob the
street preacher, striking for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts: Chimes of Freedom.
No recognition like these would be complete
without including my parents, and so as I arrived in Ottawa’s outskirts, my
final reflections were on Mom and Dad’s lifelong freedom-chiming ways. These ways would include their open-door
policy to all of mine and my sibling’s friends.
These ways would include their trust in us. These ways would include their welcoming of the
needy into their home. These ways would
include their soft touch with advice.
These ways would include their willingness to let us be ourselves. These ways would include their faith-centric
home. These ways would include their
inclusiveness, their generosity, their patience. Mom and Dad striking for the kind: Chimes of
freedom.
There you go; 7 thoughts, somewhat fleshed
out, from roughly 2 hours of driving. Over
the course of the week, a number of others came to mind. I’ll surmise these in
short order here:
In terms of those in the public eye (which
you will have to look up yourself if unknowing and curious), ‘Chimes of Freedom’
also go out to Maximillian Kolbe, Martin Luther King Jr, the Mississippi
Freedom Riders, the Standing Rock and Cheyenne River Sioux tribes protesting
the transcontinental Dakota gas pipelines, , recipients of last week’s pipe
bombs (all freedom fighters in my book), the Tiananmen Square “Tank Man”,
Jennifer Castle and Blake Spalding, Rev. William Barber II, David Attenborough,
Jane Goodall, Mahatma Gandhi, Linus Pauling, Mother Teresa, Elie Wiesel, Nelson
Mandela, Yitzhak Rabin, Jimmy Carter, Shirin Ebadi, Martti Ahtisaari, Barack
Obama, Bobby Kennedy, Pope Francis, Jamal Khashoggi and …..Bob Dylan.
Chimes of Freedom also go out to anyone promoting
green energy, anyone standing up for the rights of the unborn through a
faith-based – vs legal – position, anyone who knows how to swallow their pride,
and anyone who donates large, beautiful land-holdings to the public. So too those chimes go out to doctors without
borders, conservationists, organic farmers, people choosing solidarity over
power, and people choosing peaceful protest over war.
And Chimes of Freedom go out to those who
still believe in the words on the Statue of Liberty, particularly in these
times of ugly discourse. For those in
the good ol’ USA, here’s a reminder: “Give
me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, yearning to breathe free, The
wretched refuse of your teeming shore”.
I’m reminded of a caravan making its way through Mexico as I write this.
Yes, give them to us until we are saturated.
With that said, I too recognize an immigration lawyer and great friend
of my wife, Nancy and mine. Madeline’s
chimes of freedom ring true for the unarmed refuge.
In terms of others in my life, there is Father Peter and his profound homilies,
and another friend of Nancy’s named Barbara who passed away yesterday (“the
mistreated mateless mother”). Then,
there’s the friends of ours who have worked their way through addictions, as
well as family and friends who have donated their time to good causes. And of course, my wife and her kindly ways
with others.
Finally, Chimes of Freedom go out to my daughter
Charlotte, who was the tipping-point inspiration for me to write this
entry. Charlotte stands for so much that
is good in this world. She has connected
with the oppressed in civil-strife-torn Nicaragua. She has connected with indigenous people in
Panama who have pressures on their way of life.
She has made strides on environmental science at the Smithsonian
Institute for Tropical Ecology in Panama City.
She has eloquently expressed herself in her creative writing and through
her magnificent art. She has immersed
herself in rainforest ecology. Charlotte is certainly one of those freedom
chimers who is making it happen.
Get out and vote, folks
- Pete
