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2004-05-20 - 3:50 p.m. Hey folks. If you haven’t noticed the little note at the bottom of the entries, you can sign up on the notify list and I’ll send you an e-mail each time an entry has been posted. Check it out at the end of each installment. Click here to go to go to my website And now…… It was decided that we would head out of Santa Fe and lay over in Oklahoma City en-route to Fayetteville, Arkansas. As we were leaving Mike reminded me that we were going to be driving a box truck into Oklahoma City on the 9th anniversary of the bombing. No one seemed particularly concerned. We took a more scenic route out of town. This part of New Mexico is beautiful! It was a long drive but I kept myself occupied by reading (just finishing up Gabriel Garcia Marquez’ autobiography) and listening to music (Moris Teppers’ new disc) and writing this here journal. We had dinner in Gallup. We had some excellent Mediterranean food. They had a smoking parlor upstairs where you go up and smoke flavored tobacco out of a communal hookah! There were a bunch of teenagers up there puffing away. Is this a new fad? Amanda took the wheel for Oklahoma continuing her streak of driving in the “O” states. After a long drive I had a glass of wine and hit the sack in Oklahoma City. The truck made it into town with no problems and in the A.M., off we went to Arkansas. Eastern Oklahoma is very nice and our route led us into the Ozark Mountains from the west. The Ozarks are just beautiful and a well-kept secret it seems. We were scheduled to play outside in the beer garden at the Gypsy in Fayetteville, Arkansas but there was a threat of rain so the show was moved indoors. Since it absolutely poured rain during our set, the decision proved sound. There was a good crowd but a few upsetting things happened during the course of the evening. First there was a couple in their fifties (I guess) in front of me. They repeatedly asked if I would play Orange Blossom Special. After 3 or 4 times I leaned over and said, “We don’t do that number.” The gentleman then asked, “Why the hell not?" and, being honest, I responded by telling him I had played the tune 50,000 times in my youth (an exaggeration) and I decided not to play it 50,001 times. At that, they stormed out! Well, I guess, sometimes you just can’t please people. More disturbing was the fact that a guy was harassing Amanda while we were playing. He was making suggestive comments and generally being an asshole. She was quite calm about it and didn’t make it a big deal. We all feel protective of her, as if she were our sister, so I took great offense at it and told her the next time something like that happened to let us or a bouncer know and it would be dealt with. I have a bumper sticker on the front of my monitor that says “Re-defeat Bush”. Apparently a group of drunken cowboys took issue with it and took turns giving it the finger as we played (as it turned out, one of these guys was also the one who was harassing Amanda – tell you something?). I know having this sticker on a piece of my equipment will tend to make me a target for those who disagree with it. So be it. I feel an obligation to, in some way, get the message out that this President must go. We have a great diversity of age groups that come to see us. Amongst our audience there seems to be one thing in common. They all seem to embrace a kind of 60’s vibe or mentality. I’m not referring to the drug culture - make those comparisons if you wish – but more the progressive attitude towards our culture in general. I’m a child of the 50’s and was a teenager in the 60’s. I was alive and clearly remember a time when blacks could not legally vote in Alabama and Mississippi. I witnessed a cultural revolution that ended a war (Vietnam) and ushered in a new era in the moral accountability of politicians (Watergate). Some would say the revolution failed given what we see today. The “global market” and all that it brings with it, the seemingly overwhelming conservative control of the airwaves and the systematic dismantling of environmental protections, not to mention this hideous war in Iraq, is enough to cause anyone despair. But I am optimistic. We're lucky to be alive at a watershed moment because then we get to be Bodhisattvas. We get to test our mettle. We're called to try to change the direction of civilization, and those who have the vision of a different way are called on to really bring their gift forward, and really it's a great challenge. It's a great moment to be alive. You know, Thomas Wolfe called the '70s, the "Me Generation," and I thought well I guess that means the '80s was the "Me, Me Generation," and the '90s was the "Me, Me, Me Generation." I think that this whole, capitalist industrial world and the whole idea of the growth economy—that everything has to keep growing and getting bigger and more profitable and more, more, more—it's got a few years left. It has to sort of disprove itself to more and more people as the source of happiness and the way to live. Then some of the seeds that we planted in the '60s, some of the alternative ways that have grown up since then—alternative institutions, people thinking about new economy, new agriculture, new spirituality—will be there to offer an alternative. Excuse me as I step back off the soapbox. We took the long way out of Fayetteville through the Ozarks. Just absolutely beautiful! We made our way to Little Rock to our next play at a club called “Sticky Fingers”. The house sound guy was this hilarious black fellow named “Maestro”. He was like a Wesley Snipes clone except funnier! He’d announce over the P.A., “THERE WILL BE A SOUND CHECK IN FIVE MINUTES, THAT’S FIVE MINUTES.”. Then just before we played he’d go, “FIVE MINUTES TO SHOWTIME…. FIVE MINUTES TO SHOWTIME.” I took a nice long walk down by the river before we did sound check. It turns out the settlement of Little Rock was named from a landmark on the river. Can you guess what that landmark was? There wasn’t a huge crowd but it wasn’t bad considering it was a Wednesday. We were to be off in the morning for Nashville and the final weekend of the tour. I can’t wait to get home!
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