Seed: Is This A Great State Centennial Anthem or What?
I was born in Oklahoma. I have lived in this state, for better or worse, since 1980, or the Year of the Monkey, if you put much stock in the Chinese Zodiac. And it is here where I shall take my final, radioactive tainted breaths of air. I have considered leaving numerous times. I came quite close on one occasion. I made it to Norman, a mere 100 miles from the Texas border. But there's something that keeps me here. And no, it's not the eternal hope that we will one day acquire a professional sports franchise. It's something bigger. It's a belief that our state is inherently good, because after all, it's where I live. Boy was I wrong.
If you're not yet aware, 2007 will mark the 100 year anniversary of Oklahoma's admittance to the Union. Texans are still up in arms about this, but who are they to talk? They're the ones responsible for the Houston Oilers and Tom Delay. Anyhoo, every time I turn on the television set I'm greeted by some announcement or another, proclaiming the Oklahoma Centennial as the biggest thing to happen to our state since Macaulay Culkin got himself arrested in the throes of a drug induced Cannonball Run reenactment. And then came last month's announcement that a new state centennial song had been composed by none other than Jimmy Webb and Vince Gill, two of our state's most accomplished bad hairdos. Are you excited yet? I know I was. That is until I realized what I was getting excited about.
So let's get down to the nitty gritty here. First off, the title "Oklahoma Rising." Unless the gravitational pull of the earth has shifted or there is some hotbed of geological activity propelling the state upwards to the sky that I don't know about, then Oklahoma is not in fact rising anywhere. If anything, the state is sinking. And I mean like Titanic sinking or Mel Gibson's toast at your niece's bat mitzvah sinking. Let's take a quick look at the things we know for sure about our state.
According to www.newsfromrussia.com, Oklahoma ranks:
3rd in the nation per capita for incarceration rates
4th in functionally illiterate residents
8th in teen pregnancies
14th in obesity rates
and drumroll please..............47th in teacher pay.
Yeah!!!!!! The song almost writes itself.
Secondly, the lyrics. Here's my personal favorite:
"We're the Heartland of America
Our Heart is in the race
We've sailed our prairie schooners
Right into outer space"
Folks, this is plain embarrassing. Last time I checked our prairie schooners could barely make it across a river, much less into the inner reaches of outer space.
I'm sorry, but I can't help myself. Here is another gem:
"Now we look into the heavens
At the eagles climbing free
It's the spirit of our people
On the wing, can you see?"
Absolute total crap. Not even Lee Greenwood could pull those off. I've heard better lyrics at a Right Said Fred concert (Note: I haven't actually been to Right Said Fred concert but I often imagine myself at one). I mean this is a duo of multi Grammy award winning composers and that's the best they could come up with. Jeez, thanks guys. I think I'll move to Kabul now.
And lastly, the music. Alright I haven't heard the music, but I'm gonna play it safe and pre-emptively call it crap. I should point out though that Vince Gill is a very talented guitar player. Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say talented guitar player? I meant Mike Leach look alike.
We already have a state centennial song, and as far as I'm concerned it's the only state centennial song worth a damn. It's called "Lips of an Angel" and it's by local rock supergroup Hinder. They're bringing back the sex and drugs to rock & roll. The song is practically a tourist brochure in itself. Actually, the song I'm referring to is "This Land Is Your Land" by the late Woodrow Wilson Guthrie. No, it doesn't mention Oklahoma by name, but it was written by an Oklahoman and it's everything you could want in a state centennial song. It's bold, beautiful, and sounds just a bit out of tune. And that friends is Oklahoma in a nutshell.
So what do y'all think? What should a state centennial anthem sound like? And is it just me, or does my garbage smell funny?
posted by A Contemporary Bunkshooter @ 8:03 PM,
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Response: In Oklahoma, Not Arizona, What Does It Matter?
When I read a few months ago that the Oklahoma Centennial Commission had, well, commissioned a new song for our year-long birthday party, I was really excited. As a history guy, I was already aware that in 1957 our forefathers sanctioned a symphony called "Oklahoma" for our Semi-Centennial. This was a symphony in four movements complete with a poetic narrative read by Will Rogers, Jr. and accompanied by interpretive dancers. Admittedly this was a high-brow era, and personally, I hate stuff like that, but you have to admit that's pretty classy.
So when I heard that Jimmy Webb was in on it I thought, well a symphony wouldn't go over too well these days, but he'll get it pretty close. I love Webb's particular knack for writing songs that leave an emotional imprint, like an impressionist painting. They get you to a certain point and then leave you to define what the hell they mean. Like in "Galveston":
Galveston, oh Galveston
I still hear your sea waves crashing
While I watch the cannons flashing
I clean my gun and dream of Galveston
I still see her standing by the water
Standing there lookin' out to sea
I always thought the narrator killed his girlfriend, but he misses her. A few years ago, I was talking to my dad about that song and he said, no, it's about Vietnam. I don't know if it is or it isn't. The important thing is that if it is, Webb wrote a song about Vietnam without talking about Vietnam. It could be any soldier in any war in history (or at least one after the advent of firearms).
He also writes songs that traverse time and help us connect our contemporary feelings and emotions with people of the past and future (as in "The Highwayman"). In "Wichita Lineman" you get just enough information to empathize with the alienation of the singer, but you're not exactly sure if he deals with barbed wire fences, telephone lines, or fiber-optic cables and yet it doesn't matter.
So I thought, wow, great, a Jimmy Webb song is exactly the kind of song you want for a historical event like a Centennial. You want something that's going to give you the emotional feel of the place without getting bogged down in the details and giving the dimwit majority something specific to complain about. There's only one problem - I only like Jimmy Webb's songs on paper. I can't stand to listen to his arrangements. I'd rather hear Richard Harris reading a tone poem. I'd rather hear Franco Harris reading a tone poem. I didn't panic, though, because even though I know less about Vince Gill's music than Ted Stevens does about the internet, I figured he could right Webb's ship.
Sadly, I was shocked and dismayed (as opposed to shocked and awed or Shock'n Y'alled or Chaka Khaned) last month when our new Centennial Song, "Oklahoma Rising" was unveiled. My first reaction to the title was that it was some bakery's ad jingle, or a new zombie flick with a Sooner State set. And then, with chagrin, I realized this is going to be some recycled Webb material. Haven't we already heard "Up, Up, and Away", and in "By the Time I Get to Phoenix" isn't the next line "she'll be risin'?"
And then, oh mah gawd, I actually heard it. It has to be the absolute worst song I have ever heard. You know what really irks me most about it? It's so bad I can't even formulate the words to begin criticizing it -- defeated me right out of the gate. The lyrics are just strung together anecdotes that are so literal, they require you to accept them (or not) at face value. It's sadly reminiscent of our current political climate where you're either for something or against it. So far both blue- and red-staters have lambasted the song and you get people like Kurt Hochenauer in the Oklahoma Gazette going over the lyrics with a fine-tooth comb. I refuse to nitpick it.
"Oklahoma Rising" does elicit strong emotions in me, though. Every time I hear it it takes me back to 1977 and I remember how I felt when I would watch Three's Company. Jack always had two dates in the same restaurant and then Mr. Roper would show up and he would have to act gay and still string along the two women and I would feel so anxious and embarrassed I could barely stand it. That's how I feel when I hear our Centennial Song.
But if you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem, right? Here's what we should do. Instead of reusing a Woody Guthrie song like Hochenauer and Bunkshooter suggest (and I don't necessarily disagree with their rationales) , we should do what Oklahoma has always annoyingly done and copy other people's ideas (this is along the lines of our having the Seattle space needle, the St. Louis arch and Boston's minutemen statue recreated at our fairgrounds; painting large animal statues and leaving them around town; the riverwalk). Wouldn't it be rad to, like, go totally 80s and gather up about twenty disparate Okie music people and have them sing "Oklahoma Rising" together just like Band Aid or We Are the World? Just think of Wayne Coyne and Reba McEntire yucking it up. Reba could be wearing a Yoshimi t-shirt and Toby Keith could roll over everyone in a big ball. The lyrics wouldn't be so horribly hokie then, they'd be fun.
Or how about this one? The one redeeming thing about "Oklahoma Rising" is that the song appears on a compilation albumof Oklahoma music stars living and dead. That is a great idea and one long overdue. I've been wanting to do that for years. But how about scrapping "Oklahoma Rising" and have living stars sing duets of dead Okie's songs. So have the middle Hanson kid sing "Oklahoma Hills" with Kristin Chenoweth - wouldn't they be cute together? How about Brian Whitten from the Rounders with Megan Mullaly on "Never Been to Spain"? No, wait! How about doing that morphing thing like they did with Natalie Cole and her dead father Nat King Cole? Hinder and Roger Miller doing "King of the Road".
I could do this for days. And wouldn't that be fun to listen to? Isn't that what all this should be about? It's a birthday party for Pete's sake! Let's have some fun and celebrate what kickass creative people we are and always have been.
posted by St. Fiacre @ 1:15 AM,
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Response: It's okay to be Okie!
By a strange quirk of fate, the very CD that Saint and Bunky have brilliantly skewered showed up in the cataloging department on Monday. Apparently, there's a group of folks eager to listen to Jimmy and Vince wax poetic about our state. Unfortunately, the thing isn't in the OCLC database. One of us lucky worker bees will have to do some original cataloging.
Eager to experience the song for myself, I gave it a listen. Maybe it's just me, but to a transplanted Texan, the thing tries too hard. Can it really be that difficult to convince Okies that it's okay to love themselves?
This isn't a problem for our neighbors to the South. Those of us lucky enough to have been born in Texas were spoon-fed from a jar of homegrown pride. We grow up thinking we are pretty darn near amazing. Heck, we're fantastic! I know there's a love/hate relationship between our two states, but seriously, Okies spend way too much time thinking about why they're just as good as Texans (or anybody else, for that matter). Texans, however, don't spend anytime thinking about Oklahoma, except, perhaps, during the OU/Texas weekend each fall.
Both my boys were born in Oklahoma, so I've got a stake in making sure they don't feel so insecure about the place. They're conflicted about the fact that the state was came about after yet another broken promise to the Native Americans. The whole boomer/sooner thing is weird for them, too. How do you teach kids to abide by rules and avoid cheating when the very ground they're standing on was conquered by fellows who jumped the gun during the Land Rush of 1889?
Every year, when the elementary school has a celebration of the Oklahoma land run, I grudgingly dress my boys up as cowboys, but I also tell them that, while it was a happy day for white Americans, it wasn't so great for the Indians. And, lest you think I'm OK-bashing, rest assured I also teach them that history is written by the victors, and that every historical occurence has a different point of view, depending on who's doing the telling.
The longer I live in Oklahoma, the more I come to love it. I'm glad that our kids are a little bit humble. I'm glad we've got some elbow room. I love the sunsets, the storms, and tornadoes. I have come to embrace the state's famous offspring, like Woody Guthrie, Will Rogers, Wiley Post, John Steinbeck, even Garth Brooks! I love how people give a little wave when they pass you on a suburban street. I like that a man will still hold the grocery store door open for a woman, and that you can leave a ball or a bike on the front lawn and it will still be there in the morning. I love how the wind scours the neighborhood, sweeping leaves into the street like an unruly crowd of marathon runners. I like reading quirky messages on the kiosks of corner churches. I like having friends who'll give up a Saturday to help someone out. I like that most of us are decent, compassionate, patient, and polite.
So, there's plenty of good things to say about Oklahoma. Hate to say it, but the next state song should probably be written by a Texan!
Labels: boomer, humility, Oklahoma, pride, sooner, state songs, Texas
posted by Adjective Queen @ 1:10 AM,
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Seed: Invisible Under God
So, I 'm sitting in the easy chair the other night when my littlest one comes up and says she has decided not to say the Pledge of Allegiance anymore. Instantaneously I smell sulfur and a little red feller appears on my shoulder and whispers in my ear, "Hey, alright! She's a rebel!" As I began a little smile, there's another poof and the scent of fresh laundry and a little angelic creature lights on my other shoulder and screams in my ear, "What the hell are you thinking? You don't want a rebellious daughter! What? You want her drunk and knocked up in middle school?!"
After flicking the little minions off my shoulders I asked her why she didn't want to say it. "Because," she said, "I'm loyal to one man - God." Uhhhghhh. Great. Supranational zealot was not on my list of career choices when I dreamed of her future. I maintained though. I asked her to elaborate. "Well, it says you pledge 'legiance to the flag. But God loves all the countries, not just ours." OK, right. She sings "Jesus loves the little children of the world" in Sunday school. Next I ask the big one - where did she get the idea? "From myself. Duh. It just makes sense, Dad."
Even though I was so proud of her rational powers, I was clear-headed enough to realize this was probably not going to make her really popular at school. And by the way, Mr. Secret Agent Man, no need to put us on a watchlist or anything. She's very proud her country and she knows all about Lincoln and Washington and she simply adores Teddy Roosevelt. American Legends is one of her favorite Disney DVDs. But I'm holding my breath because I'm pretty sure she'll get hammered by the Borg-like red-staters at school. This ain’t just some Bodr..uh Bordl..B..uh… Irish folk CD with a drum. This is
I emailed her teachers to let them know what to expect, but then it occurred to me that I am not positive she's even allowed not to say it, as frightening as that sounds. I think unless students can show compelling proof that it violates their religion, they have to say it. I haven't heard back from her teachers so now I'm really worried - I figure they must be plotting... But, as I told them, what better lesson in liberty could there be than this?
The funny thing about all this is that I was trying to remember how I felt about the pledge in school and you know what? I don't think we ever said it. If we did it was in the very young grades. I know for a fact we never prayed in school, and I'm almost certain we didn't say the pledge. I checked with the Grandmother of Europe and she said she was sure that by high school (which was when I was in elementary) they didn't say it. So was there some sort of post-Vietnam cold-shouldering of the pledge? Ironically in
And the more I thought about it, I really don't have a problem with the pledge myself. I could do without the flag part, mainly because a) it's a gaudy flag and b) I just don't get pledging to a piece of fabric. But the part about "the Republic for which it stands, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all" I will always pledge to. I see it as a reminder of what we're all about; a barometer or plumb line by which we can gauge how far off the mark or how on mission we are at any given time.
So what's your reaction? How do you feel about the pledge? What's your experience with it?
By the way, when I got home from work I asked the young'n how it went. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I said it - but I didn't mean it." Awwww, passive aggression. She's Daddy's Little Girl - a chip off the old block.
posted by St. Fiacre @ 11:53 AM,
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Response: And Justin Forahl
What memories I have of the pledge go hand in hand with a song called My country 'tis of thee. Morning activities could not begin in my elementary school until the gruff voice of our cigar-smoking principal came over the intercom, followed by the pledge, followed by the song, and finishing with a solemn, contemplative silence. It’s possible I spent a few of the early grades with my head bowed in prayer, eyes darting about to see if anyone dared keep their head up and eyes open, but later this merged into a moment of silence and this is how I remember it now.
The pledge was muttered with a minimum of effort, turning groups of words into incomprehensible phrases. I’m sure I wasn’t the only first grader to think that we were talking to the public about an invisible God, with the library thrown in for good measure, and some guy named Justin Forahl tacked on there at the end. I didn’t have any idea what the pledge was all about. But I really liked singing the song that came next.
There were a lot of potential American-idol wannabes in my class, although the concept was still 30 years in the future. Kids love music, there’s just no way around it, and none of us were shy when the teacher turned on the old record player and the first few notes sounded -- scratchy but distinct. Since it's pretty slow, we were all able to pick up the majority of the lyrics, save for one tricky spot. "Land where my father's died" wasn't a concept I got, so I just hummed. And I thought the next part talked about a "bride," which made no sense. But I sure did belt out, "From every mountainside -- LET FREEDOM RING!"
It wasn't until the sixth grade that I realized the pledge was a big deal. One of the kids in our class was a Jehovah's witness. He was also the only boy I had a crush on, so whatever he did was intriguing to me. He never had to stand for the pledge. He remained seated at his desk, hands folded respectfully in front of him, eyes cast downward. He recognized that he was different, and that most of the other kids despised him for it. But I thought he was brave. How difficult to stay in his chair when all the rest of popped up. By that time, we all said the pledge with the mininum of effort. Nobody sang the song, although we could hear the first graders down the hall screeching to the high heavens.
I was also uncomfortable because it had been drilled into my head through many years of Sunday School that idols were an abomination to God. And it felt an awful lot like I was praying to an inanimate object. The flag was starting to look a little sinister up there, limp and wrinkled at the front of the classroom.
So SGK is years ahead of my young self in her thought processes. I don't think you should be all that worried, Saint, unless she designs her own flag and system of government, invades her favorite islands, and forces you to sing her own twisted version of "My country 'tis of thee."
Labels: allegiance, idols, Jehovah's witnesses, My country 'tis of thee
posted by Adjective Queen @ 8:05 AM,
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Response: Oh Yes They Call Him The Streak....
Roadrunner Rally. You can't help but love the alliteration there. That's the affectionate moniker it had at my elementary school. At neighboring seats of learning it was called everything from Daybreak to Opening to Morning Roundup. It was a musical & educational introduction to the school day designed to ready students for the learning soon at hand. I'd love to meet the genius behind this phenomenon, undoubtedly a burnt out leftover from the first Taos Earthship, who after discovering his Joan Baez records missing, decided to tackle head-on the the problems effecting America's groggy youth.
It makes perfect sense. Take 500 preteens, still reeling from their morning saccharine high, corral them into the library, and force them to sing AM radio favorites while acting out team building exercises. Think the Sonny and Cher Variety Show meets the Sonny and Cher Variety Show.
But Roadrunner Rally wasn't all fun and games. At some point between the Captain and Tenille's "Butterscotch Castle" and the cafeteria mistress' soulful Dylan Thomasesque reading of the lunch menu, the American flag(which had previously been overshadowed by the Ralph Downs Elementary Roadrunner mascot) took on an undeniably new importance. And all it took were a few words from El Comandante.
Principal Spence: Children, please join me in reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.
[Que cheesy synthesizer intro to Lee Greenwood's "God Bless The USA" (Note: For years I falsely labored under the impression that "God Bless The USA" was sung by Ray Stevens, another bearded blowhard bound for Branson. Say that ten times fast. So imagine my disappointment when after watching a post 9/11 Isn't America the Coolest? Marathon on TV, who should appear on the screen, but Lee Greenwood. For that musical sin, I can never atone)]
Students: I...pl...ianc....fl...o...ic..to...th..re..ofwhichit....st..1..natio...und..g.indi...wi...liberty and justice for all.
I used to love that swell at the end. It made you feel the kind of joy that only true conformists know.
You have to admire "the Pledge" though. It hasn't changed a lick since Benjamin "The Tariff Sheriff" Harrison first enacted it in 1892, except for that business with the "Bellamy Salute." A cursory glance at "Wikipedia" shed some light on this anecdotal gem. But I have no axe to grind with "the Pledge." I tried, albeit much later and in a more passive way than SGK, to eschew my pledge reciting responsibilities. But I failed. As will she. That's part of what growing up is all about. Denying your American heritage.
[Que cheezy synth intro to "God Bless The USA."]
posted by A Contemporary Bunkshooter @ 8:04 AM,
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Response: P..p..people Try To Put Us D..d..down
Yikes, Bunkshooter, your description of Roadrunner Rally is positively chilling to the likes of this Gen Xer and homefront survivor of the Cold War. Reading your description of the mindless drone of a couple hundred kids singing schmaltzy patriotic anthems conjures up filmstrips we used to see of the Young Pioneers in the Soviet Union marching amid the gawd-awful missiles while singing schmaltzy patriotic anthems through brilliant smiles, red scarves clutching their necks.
I've read quite a number of articles and seen a few books in recent years that characterize your generation (but certainly not you) as docile and easily led, although demographers, sociologists, and pundits can't yet agree just why. Among the suspects are Ritalin and its rowdiness-inhibiting pharmaceutical satellites; day care centers and their one-size-fits-all child development model; the general malaise of world events between Glasnost and 9/11; helicopter parents; and older parents. There are probably many other reasons as well. Like, maybe these morning assemblies you describe. I'll bet the real culprit wasn't the pledge or Lee Greenwood, it was probably Raffi (he actually covered this Soviet favorite) and Sharon, Lois & Bram, and
But still, some of you guys are 25 now. Generation X had Larry Page and Sergey Brin, Sophia Coppola and others who achieved early. We had a movment and spokesman with grunge and Kurt Cobain. The Boomers had Steve Jobs and Bill Gates and many movements and spokespeople. I haven't seen a lot from this group yet. I haven't seen any movements or spokespeople. Myspace, Facebook and Napster (all created by this gen) just don't really wow me. But then, I'm old. I'm not s'posed to be wowed by it.
After I think about it, maybe we're going to need a populous generation acting in concert to fix some things around here, like global warming, the political system, competition with China and India, breaking the corporate stranglehold and the cultural void left by Paris Hilton and reality TV. I hope there's a Teddy Roosevelt or a Will Rogers or a Woody Guthrie amongst them.
posted by St. Fiacre @ 6:42 AM,
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