Tag Archives: “London House”

The Sign Said No Tresspassing. But On the Other Side …

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I just reared back and soaked in every note and every word of their singing. It was so clear and honest sounding, no Hollywood put-on, no fake wiggling. It was better to me than the loud squalling and bawling you’ve got to do to make yourself heard in the old mobbed saloons. And, instead of getting you all riled up mentally, morally and sexually – no, it done something a lot better, something that’s harder to do, something you need ten times more. It cleared your head up, that’s what it done, caused you to fall back and let your draggy bones rest and your muscles go limber like a cat’s. - “The Telegram That Never Came” from “Bound for Glory”

 

I’ve been to many music festivals. Even though I was only able to spend one day in Okemah for Woodyfest, I can say that it’s quite likely the most musician-centric festival I’ve seen. The crowds were small on Thursday, but the focus was definitely on music. Not on trying out the latest home video game unit, or sideshows or any other crap. It was music. From buskers on the street to open mic at Lou’s Rocky Road, and afternoon sets at Brick Street Cafe. Music was everywhere, as were hardcore music lovers from little kids to elderly folk.

One of the smartest festival-planning moves I’ve ever seen: all the daytime sets were inside. Because it was 100 degrees. Perfect! Since the earlier acts tend to attract smaller crowds anyway, it was an idea set-up. I got into town later than expected, and spent more time roaming downtown (buskers, statue pilgrimage, visiting my brick on the new Grammy Museum monument, eating tacos), so I didn’t catch as much music at Brick Street as I would have liked. By the time I made it there, I was wobbly from the heat and adrenaline.

Since Brick Street not only offered free live music, but also wifi for the reporters (and free lunch! Which I unfortunately missed.). I did triple-duty: music, work, and hydration.

Not a bad work day, if you can swing it.

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“Empty Snuff Cans” – Chapter Two

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By Kim Gutschmidt

Chapter two of Bound for Glory introduces us to the Guthrie family and his hometown of Okemah, Oklahoma.  It begins with his birth in 1912 and he explains that he was named Woodrow Wilson Guthrie in honor of the soon-to-be President Wilson.

Okemah, in his childhood, was a small farming community of around 1,000 citizens.  Woody claims that everyone knew just about everyone else and the reader sees as the chapter progresses how that fact can be both an advantage and disadvantage.  Much is made of the reputation and impressions people living in Okemah leave on each other.

Woody had two older siblings, Clara and Roy, and an amusing part of the chapter tells of how a toddler Woody attempted to follow his brother and sister to school.  It reminded me of my own envy of seeing my older siblings go off to school each morning and I was left to entertain myself.  Woody composed his first little song while waiting for Clara and Roy to come home, the pickets in the fence his audience.

In the chapter Woody’s father, Charles, was a successful businessman dealing in land purchases and it was a source of pride for the family that they were able to live in a fine home and were able to purchase anything they desired at local merchants just by signing their names to a charge slip.

As in the first chapter, we see the theme of conflict in chapter two.  Charles Guthrie is described by Woody as being a fighter in his land deals.  Woody writes, “Papa was a man of brimstone and hot fire in his mind and in his fists and was known all over that section of the state as the champion of all the fist fighters.”  Woody’s mother, Nora, seems to have a more gentle nature.  Woody describes her as one who taught the children songs and ballads and stories and to “…always try and see the world from the other fellow’s side.” His father, however, “…taught us never and never to allow any earthly human to scare us, bully us, or run it over us.” It seems that those early lessons from his parents taught Woody to use his love of music and storytelling to fight for and demand fair treatment and to encourage others to stand up against wrong.

Another theme continued from the first chapter is one of cooperation between others in order to solve a dilemma that, on the surface, seems near impossible.  Woody tells a rather funny story of him trying to best a playmate and in his eagerness to be higher and therefore superior to his playmate, Woody finds himself literally up a tree and unable to get down again.  It’s the cooperation of other children in town, along with the incentive of a reward, that gets him back on the ground.

Although chapter two has charming and lighthearted stories contained within (the conversation Woody has with his mother after his tree rescue is especially sweet), there’s a dark cloud that seems to be gathering along the horizon for the family.  It seems that sadness will come to the Guthrie family before too long.

 

Watching “Man in the Sand” on the Eve of Billy Bragg’s Woody Guthrie Tributes

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There’s no reasonable excuse for me taking 11 years to watch “Man in the Sand,” the documentary about the making of “Mermaid Avenue.” It’s been on Netflix streaming for years. The 3-CD “Mermaid Avenue” re-release that I bought in April includes a DVD of the film.

I love music documentaries. Why haven’t I watched the one about the music I love the most? Because I’m avoidant. That’s the only excuse I can conjure. Fear that it’ll disappoint, or ruin the myth.

But today, I’m watching it, since I’m leaving for Chicago early in the morning. On Saturday I’ll be seeing Billy Bragg performing Woody Guthrie songs at the Old Town School of Folk. That morning? A songwriting workshop with Bragg.

I need to brush up.

In the first few minutes of the movie, Nora Guthrie narrates that she asked Bragg to do this project to “look for the man behind the myth with me.” And then she utters what has become my favorite words from Woody: “My dad would only say, ‘All you can write is what you see.”

Okay, I’m in.

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In These Oklahoma Hills

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By Robin Wheeler

Woody Guthrie’s hometown, Okemah (pop. around 3000-ish), is an hour and fifteen minute drive south of Tulsa. Sunday morning, Aimee and I checked out of our hotel and hit I-44 to the narrow, rain-slicked curves of US-75 in search of Woody’s hometown and its markers, with nary a guidebook to help us.

It’s a tiny town dominated by an American music giant; surely we’ll be able to find everything, right?

Nope.

At least we found the town.

And we found Woody’s statue along the tiny stretch of downtown, between old buildings bedecked with murals.

The statue’s base and the ground below are covered in bricks and pavers bearing messages and song titles that have been purchased. The Oklahoma City Federation of Teachers bought the “Union Maid” paver, which made me happy.

Someone had given the statue a scarf, much-needed in the chilly drizzle. I wanted to take it and knit him a new one.

One mural celebrated the history of the town. Not just Guthrie, but the oil boom of his childhood, the Native American roots, the cowboys.

March dreariness coupled with the sleepiness of early Sunday afternoon makes Okemah’s downtown look far more desolate than I imagine it is on a weekday. While it doesn’t seem exactly prosperous, there are more open businesses than boarded-up shops.

Our Main Street was about eight blocks long. And Saturday was the day that all of the farmers come to town to jump in with the several thousand rambling, gambling oil field chasers. Folks called them boom chasers. A great big rolling army of hard-hitting men and their hard-hitting families. Stores throwed their keys away and stayed open twenty-four hours a day. When one army jumped out of bed another army jumped in. When one army marched out of a cafe, another one marched in.  As fast as one army went broke at the slot machines in the girly houses, it was pushed out and another army pushed in. – “Boomtown” from “Bound for Glory”

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