Celebrating (the Good and the Bad of) the U.S.A.

I spent this morning downtown at the Tampa Bay History Center. It was a great way to spend the 4th, from the map room with its earliest maps of our state, to the Tampa-centric likes of local tennis pro Judy Alvarez (and my former Seminole Heights neighbor) and the late artist Lamar Sparkman, who designed the original Bucs logo.

Since yesterday's post I've been marinating on the topic of community and how the lack of it encourages the worst of human behavior. I certainly don't have any new answers to offer up but I do think that smart, thoughtful people have been addressing ways to solve many of the problems caused by the human condition since the beginning of humanity. (Another great reason to read, kids!) One of my current favorites is author/activist Bill McKibben's most recent book Eaarth. I can't think of the philosopher(s) who've said that in order to fix the world, one must have their own house in order first, but it's a pretty fitting theory for this day.

In a similar vein, there was a great article in today's New York Times by Peter Goodman, a reporter who's traveled the country witnessing the effects of the Great American Recession. He's seen the same terrible things we all have either experienced or heard about happening close to home. Though the story doesn't have a happy ending (the recession goes on after all), I like how it wove together the kind acts of strangers assisting each other in their respective job searches with the desperation of the unemployed who believe so-called illegal immigrants have stolen their jobs. As a former CNA, I'd like to see those formerly high-paid educated folks work along side immigrants in nursing homes (like I did at the beginning of the recession) and see how quickly they change their tune.

Speaking of tunes, here's a long lost Woody Guthrie track called Mean Talking Blues, for those of you who aren't ready to do good just yet.

Woodyfest II

When junior high school history teacher Mike Nave, a native of Pryor, Oklahoma, taught in his hometown, he gave two entire weeks to Woody Guthrie. The grand finale was a surprise visit by Mary Jo Edgmon, Woody's sister. In the spring of '98, she connected him with Sharon Jones of Okemah, who wanted to start a festival in town for Woody. By July, the first festival was held.

"This year was one of the better ones," said Nave (pictured above with Wanda Jackson and husband Wendell Goodman, at a pre-festival concert in Tulsa). He said he didn't notice any decrease in turnout, despite the economy. It is a free festival after all. Volunteerism, however, was down. Nave, now based in Texas, had lined up a few students to help out but they bailed at the last minute.


Alex Elliott, in his sixth year of volunteering at the festival, picked up the slack. And the equipment when the house band or any other performer needed an extra pair of hands. A college senior from the same hometown as Nave, Elliott insists he's not a folk music fan, listing other reasons he keeps coming back: "Sam Baker, Ronny Elliott, and Rob McNurlin." He also likes the spirit of the festival, which is exactly what Mike Nave looks for in his volunteers.

Log onto the festival website for more info & to get involved at next year's festival.


2/3 of the Burns Sisters with Annie Guthrie. On left, Nancy Apple and Ronny Elliott give toothy grins.

Photos courtesy of Nancy Apple and her trusty iPhone.

Woodyfest!

A couple of years ago, Ronny Elliott, one of my favorite Tampa do-gooders, told me about the annual Woody Guthrie festival in Okemah, Oklahoma. A music festival with a message that hasn't gone corporate, and remains free? I've always wanted to go. (Che Guevara may have been on a Gap t-shirt, but as far as I know, those capitalists haven't touched Woody...at least one good thing about having a festival in the desert in the middle of the summer.)

I got a slight taste of the festival in March, when the Ribbon of Highway played Tampa Theatre. On Tuesday morning, Ronny and I left Tampa for Oklahoma. But first I asked him to write a few words about what the festival & the man mean to him.

I never cared all that much about Woody Guthrie. He was mostly just the guy that gave us Bob Dylan. I remember Martin Mull's quote, " Folk music. Remember when that crap almost caught on!" I suppose that in my own snooty fashion folk music was some kind of social phenomena for white guys who just didn't have all that much soul.

Of course I came to appreciate Woody's music and philosophies more over the years but it was never gonna bump Chuck Berry or Elvis or Big Joe Turner from their thrones in my heart.

Then I was invited to play the Woody Guthrie Festival in Okemah, Oklahoma some five or six years back. The power of the music just overwhelmed me. By my second visit I was a true convert. I believe that was the year that I looked around and found myself standing onstage with Pete Seeger, Ramblin' Jack Elliott and Arlo Guthrie and lots of other folks, singing as loud as we could, with the entire audience singing along. " This land was made for you and me." I looked out at the first few rows and I could see tears streaming down cheeks. Mine, too. I never thought I liked that damned song. I thought it was corny. Guess it was just over my head. I get it now. I never get tired of that song.

I bide my time for eleven months a year waiting for July and Woodyfest.