I got a note from John Kay yesterday.
In case that name isn't familiar to you, he created and lead the group Steppenwolf, which was a dominant force in rock in the late 60's and early 70s. I was a huge fan back then. I remember dancing to the albums with my eyes closed. Couldn't have been a pretty sight.
They were unconventional even for the time. Two of their biggest hits were anti-hard drug songs penned by Hoyt Axton: “The Pusher” and “Snow Blind Friend.”
And then, in 1970, 'Renegade.'
It tells John Kay's story. He was born in Tilsit, along the Baltic Coast in 1944. The area had been annexed by the Nazis in 1939; when that regime was collapsing, with the Red Army rolling in, infant John and his mother were two of the thousands of refugees who fled to the west. Unfortunately for them, they landed in what later became East Germany, in Arnstadt, and had to run again, escaping to West Germany in 1948.
The first two verses (transcribed here in paragraph form) tell the story:
My birthplace would be hard to find; it changed so many times, I'm not sure where it belongs. But they tell me the Baltic coast is full of amber, and the land was green before the tanks came. One day I learned just how it used to be: the devil's curse brought the whole world to its' knees.
And it was "Hey you, keep your head down, don't you look around, please don't make a sound! If they should find you now the Man will shoot you down."
It's a mighty long way out of the darkness to where the sun is free to shine. Well, the truck came by to put us in the back, and left us where the railroad tracks cross the line. Then the border guide took us by the hand, and led us through the hole into the promised land beyond. And I can hear him now, whispering soft and low, "When you get to the other side just you run like hell!”
"Hey you, keep your head down, don't you look around, please don't make a sound! If they should find you now the Man will shoot you down."
As a boy in Hanover, West Germany, he learned about rock and roll, listening to the British Forces Broadcasting Service before moving to Canada at age 14. In 1967, at age 23, he and his band moved to California, and became Steppenwolf. They achieved commercial success; two of their songs 'Born to be Wild' and 'The Pusher' featured in the 1969 movie 'Easy Rider.' They appeared with the Doors, the Rolling Stones, the Grateful Dead, Canned Heat, and many other headliners of the era. So, a happy ending, right? Well, mostly, but:
But for the young man who had literally risked his life to escape to freedom, TWICE, the violent politics of the time was sickening. Those of us who were sentient at the time remember the cities burning; the assassinations of King and Kennedy; the protesters brawling with the cops at the Democratic National Convention, while the crowds chanted “The whole world is watching, the whole world is watching.”
He must have thought we had lost our minds. And he wrote a third verse to his song:
I thought I had a quiet place where I could learn how to catch my childhood dreams; but on my left and to my right they keep on shouting, while I'm just stuck here in between. Lord! I'm tired of running and I don't believe I can; I can hear them calling time and time again:
And it's "Hey you, keep your head down, don't you look around, please don't make a sound! If they should find you now the Man will shoot you down."
Now, on this lovely spring day in Georgia in 2017, I don't THINK we are in the same place that we were in 1968. But I think it's just a matter of intensity. The division between people is every bit as deep as it was when John Kay wrote this song about his experiences. So, the responsibility is mine to teach my children what is important, and what we have to lose.
So, on weekday mornings, my 12 year old Kenneth and I spend an hour before school, studying the ancient wisdom in Proverbs, and discussing how those apply to our lives today. After setting an example by the way I live, it's the most important thing I do. And one day last week, I started by printing him a copy of the lyrics so he could read along as he listened to the song. I showed him on our world map where the Baltic is, and about where Arnstadt is, to bring him closer to the story. I told him about my own experience in the Army in Germany, crossing over through Checkpoints Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie, to go from West Germany into West Berlin and East Berlin. I told him about the Berlin Airlift. And I showed him pictures of the Berlin Wall, and how it finally came down.
John Kay's story had an impact on my boy. I could tell by the questions he asked; his nephew Trey is a bit older than Kay was the first time had to run; his nephew Heath is the age Kay was when they finally reached West Germany.
And then I applied the lesson of the third verse to his life. “Kenneth, today and for the rest of your life, you are going to have people on the left and on the right shouting at you, and you are going to be stuck in between. Don't give up! You find the truth, and you hold on to it. It won't be easy, but it's worth fighting for. And you can help to make this world a place where mothers never have to run away with their little boys, in the freezing cold, just so they can be safe.”
He got it. (I love it when it works.)
And then, riding the crest of the wave of a successful Teachable Moment, I wrote a few lines about that morning's experience; and I submitted them to the 'CONTACT' link on the Steppenwolf website. I didn't really expect anything in particular; it's just that I owed a debt of thanks, and I wanted to do my best to pay it back. And I went about my day.
Until yesterday, when I get an email out of the blue:
Pat, I've forwarded your email to John Kay and here is his response: "Please tell Papa Pat that I found his note and what he does, very rewarding as a song writer. But I also found it quite moving. I will keep his note as a reminder that music can make a difference in our lives".
WOW. Naturally, I responded, and they responded to that, and then, out of the blue, I'm given four tickets to a Steppenwolf concert this summer near Atlanta.
What's our takeaway?
Well, it's not 'honor rock and roll musicians.' John Kay is just this guy, right? Incredibly talented, true, but mostly he finds purpose in his family, and their foundation supporting human rights and protection of wildlife and the environment.
I THINK the takeaway, for me at least, is don't miss an opportunity to say 'thank you.' You never know who it might bless.
And if you wind up with tickets to a rock concert, that's gravy!
The musings of a retired redneck, with frequent mentions of his gift-from-God, happily-ever-after trophy wife Vanessa, the elegant, foxy, praying black grandmother of Woodstock, GA.
Saturday, May 20, 2017
Tuesday, May 16, 2017
Is it true that anything you make with noodles is better as leftovers?
Here's what I made last night, and today for lunch it was truly wonderful:
I made a marinade sauce with honey, garlic salt, mustard, soy sauce, olive oil, corn starch and water, and smurfed all up together in a tupperware marinating container. I don't know how much of each ingredient I used; I knew I wanted the honey and mustard flavors to come through, and I added things by taste.
I skinned, boned, and sliced two chicken breasts and two chicken thighs into tiny little pieces, and dumped them in the marinade. I froze them slightly before hand, to make them easier to slice.
I sliced up a red bell pepper and a yellow bell pepper and dumped them in the marinade. These were just on hand. I don't buy this sort of thing; someone was attracted by how pretty they were, and they were in my way, so they got selected to add color to the meal.
I steamed a pound of broccoli florets and dumped them in the marinade.
I closed the container, shook the bejabbers out of it to get everything mixed up and coated, and put it in the fridge for an hour and a half. That was based on the fact that dinner was at 6, and I started prep at 4. If I had started earlier or later, the marinade time would have changed.
Made four packets of ramen noodles, using only two of the chicken flavor packets, and set aside.
Fried four large slices of hog jowl to get the bacon drippings, as well as giving me something to munch on while cooking.
I was skeptical that the amount of bacon was going to give me enough to stir fry with, so I added about the same amount of olive oil.
In three portions, I stir fried the contents of the marinade container, between 5 and 10 minutes per portion. I cooked until the chicken was done. I scooped out the cooked chicken and vegetables with a slotted spoon, so the marinade got added to the bacon drippings and olive oil as time went on. I dumped the cooked chicken and vegetables over the ramen noodles.
With the last portion, I poured most of the accumulated marinade over the noodles along with the chicken and vegetables.
I set the bowl with the noodles and stir fry on the table, announced "FOOD IS READY" and walked out of the house, drove to Waffle House, and ate a cheeseburger. I was mad about something, and you don't need to know what it was. I just didn't want to be around people for a while. So, my rebellious act consisted of drinking coffee with my double quarter cheese plate, scattered and smothered. (It was an act of rebellion because my doc took me off caffeine.)
By the time I returned to the house, I wasn't mad any more. Much of the Honey Mustard chicken pepper stir fry had been eaten. However, there was plenty left for my lunch today.
It really was delicious!
Sunday, May 14, 2017
The Next to Last Gift
"Mama, do you remember when I had some really bad problems getting along with _________?"
"Yes, I certainly do. It was awful for you."
"Well, we're doing just fine right now, and we have for years. But there were a couple of things that happened back then that I just don't understand. I was thinking about asking him about it."
My mother and I sat in silence for a moment. I was trying to work up the courage to say the next thing. It took a LOT of courage! I was afraid of what I was going to say. I was afraid of what her answer might be. I was about to cross a line, and there was no reverse.
"Well, anyway, when I was thinking about that, it made me wonder. Are there things that you want to ask me about? Is there anything that's bothering you?"
She was struggling to answer. Until she spoke, I didn't even know if she understood what I was talking about. This woman, this incredible intellect, had ALWAYS had a book in her hand, had ALWAYS know the answers to my homework; she had gone back to college and earned her degree when her own children were of college age; but now, she couldn't remember how long it had been since her own parents had died.
She looked away for a moment. But when she began to speak, it wasn't with the voice of a helpless old lady in a care facility.
She spoke as much power, and confidence, and complete assurance as she had ever had. She spoke with the certainty of a wise mother, who KNEW what she was talking about
"The one good thing about this is that I don't remember any of the bad things. All I remember is the love. I remember the love I have for you, and for your sisters, and I remember the love my parents had for me. I don't remember anything bad at all. But the love is right here with me, all the time, every day.
So, you don't need to explain anything to me. There's nothing to explain. I know you love me, and I know I love you, and that's all there is."
I leaned forward and kissed her cheek, and she put up her frail hand and stroked my face. We smiled at each other.
The love was there. The love was always there, and it would be always there.
I've thought about that a lot over the past week or so. And I have come to accept that this is the next to last gift my mother will receive from God, the forgetting of turmoil.
When she thinks of her children, her husband, her parents, her friends, she knows nothing about tension and struggles.
She sees the pictures of her grandchildren and great grandchildren on the walls and tables in her room, and even when she can't remember their names, she remembers the love.
She knows the thing that matters; these are the people she loves.
These are the people who love her.
I MUST find a way to visit my mother more often. My sisters, especially our baby sister, do a wonderful job of visiting her. I need to do more of that. It will be good for her.
But it will also be good for me.
It's always good to spend time in the company of someone who knows only love.
Happy Mother's Day, Mama!
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