Category Archives: Occupy movement

If an Atom Bomb Hits New York It’ll be New York No More

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“What will be your first selection, Mr. Guthrie?”

“Little tune, I guess, call’d New York City.” And so I forked the announcer out of the way with the wiry end of my guitar handle and made up these words as I sung:

 

This Rainbow Room she’s mighty fine

You can spit from here to th’ Texas line!

In New York City

Lord, New York City

This is New York City, an’ I really gotta know my line! – “Crossroads” from “Bound for Glory”

 

Although the good folks at the Grammy Museum had set me up with a free ticket for Saturday night’s Woody at 100 tribute concert, I was a bit panicked about the first-come, first-served nature of the day’s symposium at Brooklyn. Even more panicked about the transportation issue.

Let me repeat: don’t be fooled by the TV and movies. Cabs aren’t ever-present. Turns out, they’re illegal in all the boroughs except Manhattan. I learned this late Friday night while trying to figure out how to get myself to Brooklyn College the next morning. Not confident in my ability to not flub public transportation, I arranged a car service. Which I hate. It’s a plain car that costs twice as much as a cab. Basically paying to not be seen in a bright yellow vehicle that exclaims, “Hey! I don’t have a car of my own!”

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Guest Post: It Takes A Village To Kill A Fascist

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Such timing! Another great guest post while I play catch-up from Brooklyn. This one’s from Sean Rapacki. I’ve never met Sean; he works with my best friend at a library in Ohio, so I do feel like I know him to an extent. My friend’s told me stories. Good ones. Sean signed up at the beginning of the year to read “Bound for Glory” and write some commentary. Here it is:

Teen Librarian, Writer and Aging Indie Rock Fan, Sean Rapacki got his undergraduate degree at the University of Chicago and his big shot librarian degree from Kent State University. When he’s not helping teens find a good book or reading one himself, he still occasionally picks up his guitar and belts out a song or two. He lives in Ohio with his wife, stepson and rescue dog.

Reading Woody Guthrie’s autobiography in the year 2012 it is impossible to ignore how Woody’s time resonates with our own. Every Occupy protester seems like a spiritual descendant of the man who wrote This Land Is Your Land. But it is not the history writ large in Bound For Glory that effects me most deeply. Conversely, it is the history writ small that sticks with me: strangers sharing some scraps of food or passing a bottle, looking out for each other amidst the adversity. Hard times tend to bring the worst in our nature, and we’re not shocked when we read about a man getting beaten for his money, or even getting beaten by those in power just for the thrill of exerting their power, but spontaneous acts of kindness still have the power to command our attention. When, while riding the top of a box car, two children literally give Woody the shirts off their backs to shield his guitar from the rain, how are we supposed to top that with pedestrian tales of selfishness and greed? There is something so ordinary, so utterly banal, about the machine that would oppress us, and something so magical and yet so simple about the acts of giving that define our resistance. When a couple of kids with nothing to their names can reach out to help protect something that, to them, symbolizes hope and creation, how can we possibly doubt that we are truly bound for glory, however hard the road may be and however unstoppable the forces that oppose us may seem? Guthrie was undoubtedly a remarkable man, but perhaps his greatest achievement was to see past all the struggle to those aspects of humankind that make us worth the struggle in the first place.

Guest Post: Traveling to a Protest

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By Peter Diebold

When I was in Okemah, Oklahoma in July for Woodyfest, I hung out with Peter Diebold, a musician from suburban Chicago who’d hit the road with his guitar earlier in the year after getting involved and disillusioned with the Occupy movement. In light of the first anniversary of Occupy, and the fact that I finally got around to writing about the NATO conference in Chicago in May, I wanted Peter to tell about his experiences. He obliged, and here’s his story in his own words.

The morning was cold, especially with the wind from the train still tunneling under the axles of the semi truck trailer we’re sleeping under. I used my pack to block most of the wind, but still I slept uncomfortably with Seeger inching ever closer to me during the night. I didn’t mind the advances, but I had made it extremely clear I wasn’t comfortable and was being squished. The fact that he didn’t seem to care about that was pissing me off. I elbowed him a few times and got no response, so I decided to get up and enjoy the morning.

We were supposed to be getting off our train in Minneapolis so we could find a train with better hiding spots to take into Chicago. We must have slept right through the stop, an impressive feat when riding on a freight train. When they start up it’s like being in a fender bender at a stop sign, those fuckers can rock! I’m actually glad to be staying on this train. I want to go home to and this one’s hauling. Using the mile markers and my watch I calculated that we’ve been going about 60 mph consistently throughout the entire ride. Our train is also high priority because other freighters have been pulling over to let us by almost every time. The perfect train to get me back to Chicago as soon as possible. Everything is going my way, as usual.

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What is a Vigilante Man? Has He Got a Gun and a Club in His Hand?

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If Jesus Christ was sitting right here, right now, he’d say this very same dam thing. You just ask Jesus how the hell come a couple of thousand of us living out here in this jungle camp like a bunch of wild animals. You just ask Jesus how many million of other folks are living the same way? Sharecroppers down South, big city people that work in factories and live like rats in slimy slums. You know Jesus’ll say back to you? He’ll tell you we all just mortally got to work together, build things together, fix up old things together, clean out old filth together, put up new buildings, schools and churches, banks and factories together, and own everything together. Sure, they’ll call it a bad ism. Jesus don’t care if you call it socialism or communism, or just me and you. - The Telegram That Never Came” from “Bound for Glory”

A year ago yesterday protestors took to Liberty Square in Manhattan’s Financial District to bring attention to the clutch multinational corporations and financial institutions have on the democratic process. So it seems like a good time to pick up my story of Tom Morello and the Chicago NATO protests that happened four months ago.

Tomorrow my hobo musician friend Peter Diebold will tell his story of the NATO protest.

Back to the Metro and May 19th …

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Where the Beer Flows to the Ocean

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(Don’t forget – still fundraising to finish my research. I’m a smidge over halfway to my goal. Pledge if you can! Spread the word!)

“I been needin’ a little drink ta ease me on down ta Chicago.” I wiped my hand across my face and smiled around at everybody. “I shore thank ya fer thinkin’ ’bout me.” I took the bottle and smelled of the gasoline. Then I sailed the bottle over a dozen men’s heads and out the door.” – “Soldiers in the Dust” from “Bound for Glory”

 

Obviously, this blog ceased being chronological a long time ago. Events this summer came faster than I could write about them. Not a bad problem for a writer to have, although I’m not thrilled to have things so disjointed.

But sometimes, waiting works. I’ve been trying to write about my trip to Chicago to see Tom Morello on May 19, the night before the NATO convention and ensuing protests for three months, but have been in too much of a dead run capturing other events to do so.

Lucky me – I procrastinated long enough to make my Morello post relevant.

Gen X music nerds (hello) and guitar geeks know Morello as lead guitarist of politically-charged Rage Against the Machine. Here they are in 1999:

Current union supporters and people protesting on behalf of the 99% know him as The Nightwatchman – the personae he uses for his acoustic protest music. He’s been a fixture at Occupy camps and protests and union events.

When I interviewed Sarah Lee Guthrie last April, and saw her aunt, Nora, speak in early May, they both said the same thing about Morello: he’s the current embodiment of Woody Guthrie’s spirit.

Here he is two days before the NATO convention at the National Nurses United Rally in Chicago, after Chicago city and NATO officials almost denied the union their protest permit if Morello attended :

This one-man revolution? Republican vice-presidential candidate Paul Ryan claims Morello’s former band is his favorite. Last week, Morello said, “I don’t think so, Paul.”

I missed the nurses, but I still got a taste of the fervor. It was delicious.

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Just a Wandrin’ Worker, I Go From Town to Town

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I said, “I like the way you play that guitar with your fingers! Sounds soft, and you can hear it a long ways off. All of these three hills was just ringing out with your guitar, and all of these people were listening to you sing.”

 

“I saw them listening,” one sister said.

 

“I saw them, too,” the other sister said.

 

“I play with a flat celluloid pick. I’ve to be loud, because I play in saloons and, well, I just make it my job to make more noise than they make, and they’re sorry for me and give me nickels and pennies.” - “The Telegram That Never Came” from “Bound for Glory”

I left the crush of the press at the historical society with thoughts of lunch. Earlier I’d noticed a Mexican restaurant two doors down from the Woody Guthrie statue. I don’t recall this restaurant being there during my visit in March, so I took it as a sign that my Guthrie tribute/al pastor streak was meant to continue.

I crossed the street by the Crystal Theater, with its “Welcome to Woodyfest” marquee, giving a small nod to the busker sitting on the sidewalk. His can held a sign reading, “Traveling broke but happy.”

This is why I’m not a real reporter: I got all the way across the street before I considered that perhaps I should visit with this fellow.

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The Forward From the Top Floor Corner

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My dear friend Kim Gutschmidt, who’s been in my life since 2000, is one of the most well-read people I know. She devours books, and processes them better than just about anyone. This is a woman who’s been known to hold a book with one hand while scrubbing her bathroom floor with the other. I’ve been so excited to read her take on “Bound for Glory.” You’ll hopefully have the opportunity to read lots from her, as she’s planning to write about each chapter on her blog, Top Floor Corner.

Kim’s a Mississippi native, but has lived in Magdeburg, Germany, for … what? Fifteen years? She shares her life with her husband. And it’s an interesting life full of love, spread across continents. Every few years, when she visits her family in Mississippi, I try to make the trip to Memphis to spend some time with her. It’s always a riot of barbecue and laughter when I’m with Kim. And knitting. Lots of knitting.

Kim and I have a running joke that we’re identical cousins: We laugh alike, we walk alike, at times we even talk about. You could lose your mind. Really.

Here we are at Corky’s in Memphis in 2007. Kim’s on the left, and I’m just happy to be there. On the road to spend time with an amazing person: best thing ever.

Here’s Kim’s take on Pete Seeger’s “Bound for Glory” foreward. You can read what she said about it on her blog, too. - Robin

The edition of Bound for Glory that I have has a foreword written by the great singer/songwriter Pete Seeger.  I don’t know when he wrote it but I assume it was shortly after Woody’s death in October, 1967.  I was also made aware that after the film, Bound for Glory, was released in 1976 the book, Bound for Glory, was re-released and Studs Terkel also wrote a foreword for the book.  I’d be interested in Stud’s take on Woody and his book as he was another champion of working people.

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