Our home-front adventure begins at the shores of Western
Lake Erie where
head upstream, south, alongside
the swift and dangerous springtime
undercurrents of the
murky and margarita-tinted Sandusky River.
Our destination is the
(celebrating its 75th year)
a jewel of a grand theatre at the
Folksinger and human-rights
and peace activist
with Tracy Grammer filling-out the show.
We stop for some food before crossing
and we meet a young boy, he is flying his bird in
the town's failing
light. He tells us that he and his
friend, the dove, have been hanging
about four months now.
The significance of being
with a brown-eyed dove appears to carry
Not your common, everyday occurrence,
no less. The coincidence proves
Halfway into Joan's program,
following her singing of
Finlandia, the famous
(also Finland's national
in both English and in Arabic, she picks up a thick book
A Memoir of Vietnam and the Pentagon Papers,
and she reads the exact
words spoken by America's
President and Secretary of
State as they plan mass-murdering
thousands of strangers. In the
background, under her voice,
we hear sirens, bombs screaming to earth.
somewhat unnerving. For entirely different reasons,
for different people, though.
Of the seven-hundred or so
people in attendance, a little over one-hundred rise,
and head up the aisle and out
through the big brass doors in protest. The show goes on,
however, and those remaining are bathed in a rainbow
of words and music that resound
off of every
curve of the
old music hall's walls. Virgil Cain, Joe Hill and
Christmas in Washington
are obvious hits. At the end of
the night the Ritz
Theatre crowd is brought upright
standing-ovation encore. Joan
casts a remarkable
figure as she sings-out a heartwarming
rendition of her
"Diamonds and Rust." This tasty morsel is one of the best
tunes of love won, love lost and love recalled.
Historically (Rock) thinking,
if Bob Dylan
happens to be listening, Joan says that this time
take the diamonds,
and he can keep his rust.
Joan says the new Johnny Cash album is terrific.
We phone a friend on the way home. He mentions
that the 75th anniversary of
Academy Awards show is
on television. The holocaust movie, "The Pianist,"
The anti-firearms protesters are
causing a big ruckus. Switching
channels he is now
war reports, and the Oscar information is
presently being scrolled across the bottom of the screen,
below the live war
cameras. "Hockey reports, too," he adds.
It is difficult enough to get
a concert hall
and away from the glare of radio and the television
and it is harder even still
to get them to leave in the
midst of a paid
performance. It takes bravery in the
being outnumbered to opt out of
The anti-protesters courageously exit on their own accord.
They are not
defamed as they walk away, nor are any
hard words spoken on either plain.
It is noted, the protest
is indeed peaceful and successful-- point made, point taken.
is no lingering ill wind in the air. Doubtless, everyone who
came to the show
stands for peace and
human-rights justice, this is
evident. Our freedom to
disagree is the glue that binds us.
We are but separated by our simple words, by
and ideals, and
on occasion, by our sacred songs.
The following phrase comes from Finland's national anthem:
"O' hear my song, thou God of All Nations.
A song of peace
for their land and for mine."
God Bless America,
and all of earth's singers,
our musical river of life
(Click Picture for Gallery)