Yesterday, I posted Brian Wilson and Al Jardine's 2016 rendition of "Sloop John B." that their Beach Boys made especially famous 50 years earlier. I noted that my only quibble was that in their discussion beforehand, talking about getting the song from the Kingston Trio, no one noted that the song had words written by Carl Sandburg and music by Lee Hays of The Weavers, who recorded the song as "The Wreck of the John B.", in 1950. (In fact, that version was itself adapted from a 1916 Bahamian song, "The John B. Sails.") I figured it would be good to post the Sandburg-Hays version recorded by The Weavers. While certainly different, with this having a more Caribbean, moody, simple sensibility, as opposed to a more fully orchestrated, light-rock syncopation, the foundation of the two recordings (which both harken the open seas) have more similarities than I suspect most people would think, including keeping the lyrics pretty close to the same..
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And it's neck-and-neck here in California whether Gov. Newsom should be recalled, supposedly because of his handling of the pandemic.
But really, of course, because Republicans don't like (again) that they lost and are trying to convince others of a fantasy. This map is the remarkable reality. A month ago, I wrote here about how those on the far-right trying to use "Personal Choice!" as their fake-excuse cry to freedom was utterly empty because pretty much everything was Personal Choice. It's Personal Choice, I wrote, whether or not to jump off a building. And Personal Choice whether or not to cross a busy street in the middle of traffic. It's Personal Choice to wear a seat belt, even though it's the law. You don't have to, you can break the law, it's Personal Choice. Just like it's Personal Choice to follow the admonition on a restaurant that says "No shoes. No shirt. No service." But just because you're making a Personal Choice, I wrote, doesn't mean you're making a good one. James Akers took mere words and put it to action. Akers is a father who went to the local school board meeting in his Dripping Springs Independent School District. Dripping Springs is in Texas, where thanks to anti-vaccination and anti-mask policies of Gov. Greg Abbott and the self-styled “freedom-loving” Personal Choice would-be cowboys have helped the state’s infection level spike problematically. It’s likely that the school board there hasn’t has a parent address them quite like James Akers did the other day. It started out normally, as Mr. Akers took his turn at the microphone. "I do not like the government, or any other entity, telling me what to do," he told the school board members. "But sometimes I've got to push the envelope a little bit. And I've decided I'm not just going to talk about it, I'm going to walk the walk." And so he did. "At work they make me wear this jacket," he said. “I hate it.” And to show how much he hated it, Akers took off his jacket. "They make me wear this shirt and tie," he said. Adding, "I hate it." And so, he took off his tie. And then his jacket. And he continued telling the board how much he hated wearing a lot of the clothes he was obligated to wear, but that the requirement to wear them were put on him by others than himself and his family. And all the while, as he explained this, he took off more clothes. Though he didn’t have many other clothes to take off, other than his shoes and his pants. But they went, too. And he stripped down to his underwear. "It's simple protocol, people,” Akers went on. “We follow certain rules. We follow certain rules for a very good reason.” School board president Barbara Stroud asked him to please put his clothes back on, but Akers wasn’t ready to yet, since he had his point to make in words. "I have every right to drive as fast as I want to," he said. (It’s a Personal Choice, after all…) But he doesn’t. Because he wanted to show that we have rules in society for safety – and wearing masks is no different than any of those safety rules. As you might imagine, James Akers’ presentation got a mixed response from those in attendance at the meeting, with a mixture of cheers and boos. But he made his point, and then put his pants back on. I merely made the point. James Akers walked the walk. I don’t have video of his full presentation. But happily, I do have the end of it. And the Texas news story that covered it. Though “covered” might be the wrong word to use here… In 2016, as the classic Pet Sounds album hit its 50th anniversary, two of the original Beach Boys, Brian Wilson and Al Jardine, recorded some of those songs again, and this voyage is “Sloop John B.” -- as the lyric goes, "The worst trip I've ever been on." What stands out is how strong and fresh Jardine’s voice is, in his mid-70s. And for all his health troubles over the years, Wilson handles his vocals admirably. It’s a very touching, thoroughly enjoyable, easygoing, and confident performance, made all the more so for their homage-like twist on the final lyrics as a sort of salute to their surviving – as well as the falsetto part performed here by Al Jardin’s son Matt (standing, in Navy blue). And for Al Jardine getting to sing lead here, particularly since, as they explain in the preface, it was he who brought the song to the group. I’ve always loved, indeed been in awe, that the words to this song were written by Carl Sandburg. In fact, if I have any quibbles about the video it’s that they refer to the song as having come from The Kingston Trio – which, yes, is where Jardine came across it – but no reference to not only Sandburg (seriously, how could you not even want to shout that “The song we’re about to sing, with words by Carl Sandburg…”??!) , but also that it was actually first recorded by The Weavers (as “The Wreck of the John B.”), whose member Lee Hays wrote the music to Sandburg’s lyric. All that aside, The Beach Boys ultimately made it famous, and with good reason. And here, 50 years later, it remains so.
You can read that original article on Trump and his followers -- and oh-so-much has transpired since then, making it almost seem quaint --- here. Another important point in that original article holds true: that most Republicans today wouldn't disagree with my description of Trump and his fascist actions. They just don't think or understand that those actions are fascist. They're fascist. And the base is also delusional. And the leadership, which is feeding that base, is repugnant. And the base is out of control. Even their God Trump got booed when he told the crowd it should get vaccinated. Sort of a shame, y'know, that he didn't say that eight months ago, before he left office. Though at this point, no one should expect to hear him say that again since once he got booed you can figure pretty well that Trump is not going to repeat those words if it's against his self-interest, even if it's the complete benefit of the country. Hopefully, with vaccinations on the significant increase, and the FDA approval leading to a vast spread of private business mask mandates, and booster shots just weeks away, along with approval for children, the situation can get more under control and Trump and his fascist circle of enablers can be left in the dustbin where they belong. Back when he was running for president, I remember flipping channels and coming across a Democrat appearing on Tucker Carlson's show on "Fox News." Even back then, not even elected yet, the guest commented how Trump was a fascist, and I believe he added that the GOP was, as well -- and Carlson almost had an apoplectic fit, his face seeming to turn red as he bounced up-and-down in his seat, "How can you say that??!!" he kept repeating, "How can you say that??!!!!" And the guest, to his credit, merely kept on and explaining how he could say that and kept repeating it, that Trump was a fascist. Because Trump was and is a fascist. And the Republican Party is today, as well -- by every literal book definition of the political philosophy. As I explained in that original article. The three tenets of fascism -- trying to discredit all other power bases that could be a threat, xenophobia against outsiders or anyone different, and the use of violence to maintain authority. That's today's Republican Party. The definition of fascist. But this isn't all about Trump suddenly turning the Republican Party fascist. A Party doesn't turn fascist overnight. The Republican Party has been moving in this direction since Joseph McCarthy, and Nixon's Enemies List pushed it further, and embracing the Religious Right moved it more, and aligning with Grover Norquist wanting to drown government took it even more down that path, and aligning with the terrorist NRA pushed it deeper, and Reagan demonizing liberalism with "the L Word" and calling government the problem carried it on more, and W Bush dividing the country with Homeland Security and flag-waving xenophobia, especially against Muslims began solidifying the Party, and more and more, as Republicans demonized President Barack Obama as being an agent of the devil and then finally they cleared the path wide for Trump, and he waltzed in and opened the fascist door as wide as he could. That's today's Republican Party. It's not the Party of Lincoln, that's long over. It's fascist. I know Republicans hate it when they're called fascist. The response is an easy one -- if you don't like being called a fascist, then don't act like one. And most of all, don't take pride in it. And then don't get upset when people point it out. The debate is far past having to explain why today's Republican Party is fascist. The only avenue left open is for Republicans to try and explain why they aren't. It's a losing argument. It's like a baseball trying to explain why it's not round. First of all, it's round. And second of all, baseballs can't talk. Over the weekend, I was flipping through channels on Sunday morning when I came on ESPN and little 7-minute “ESPN Featured” segment, and it was such a funny joy I was hoping I’d be able to track it down here – and happily I found it. Recently, I’ve written here about Bill Veeck and his wild inventiveness being the P.T. Barnum of baseball, eventually getting voted into the Hall of Fame. This story is about Jesse Cole who has sort of morphed a combination between Veeck and P.T. Barnum. It takes him from his dreams of a baseball career ended by injury to being a minor league general manager at the age of 23 for “the worst team in the country” – to buying a non-existent college summer league team and turning it into a wild, wonderful phenomenon, the Savannah Bananas. Jesse Cole’s rule is, “Whatever’s normal, do the exact opposite.” A look at the team’s website shows such promotions as a breakfast series of games, playing games in kilts, a singing postgame interview, and relentlessly more. I'd explain, but the video does a better job, showing many of them. But just to let you now I'm not a-lying... This story is such fun. Even if you don’t like baseball, it will likely not fail to put a smile on your face. Maybe even make you wish you lived in Savannah. As a guy waiting to get into the ballpark says, “I could care less about baseball ‘til this came about. Now, I’m addicted to it.” Okay, and as a bonus because you deserve it, and just so that you know it's actually real, here is the totally-weird singing postgame interview -- |
AuthorRobert J. Elisberg is a political commentator, screenwriter, novelist, tech writer and also some other things that I just tend to keep forgetting. Feedspot Badge of Honor
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