Honoring Dr. King Fifty Years Later

Today marks the 50th Anniversary of the day the world lost Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and his legacy is as special and important to our country as it has ever been. In fact, MORE special and important, because in today's world, Dr. King's message is needed more than ever. I was on a hike the other day in Kenneth Hahn Park, and at the very top of the trail was a brand new MLK Memorial looking out over the entire city of Los Angeles.

It was a pleasant surprise, and also a little time travel feeling, as the plaque marks today as the date it was commemorated, but today was two days away. I read that a big crowd made the hike to the top together a few days ago to have a ceremony marking the place and honoring the legendary American hero.

There are fresh trees planted, and as you walk up to the obelisk itself, several rocks are engraved with famous MLK quotes - truly words to live by.

Today's world needs an emphasis on social justice more than ever, and I find myself cringing when I think of what King would feel about all the madness happening in these current times. How sad he would be to know that we are still struggling to make his wonderful dream come true. I remember how happy I thought he would be to know that we had President Obama - and we all thought major progress - but now how crestfallen he would be to know that those eight years of grace and dignity were followed by the worst Administration the United States have ever known.

That's why it is so important to have monuments and memories to the greatness we're capable of, and the inspiration to walk on in those epic footprints forged before us. Standing at the top of this mountain, thinking about the "I've Been To The Mountaintop" speech King gave the night before he was assassinated in Memphis, I had a similar feeling to when I stood in the spot that King gave his "I Have A Dream" speech on the Washington Mall. That the ground where I stood was now sacred. That we have failed him. That we have the potential to be so much better. That the dream is still alive, even if he is not. That we can make it a reality by always remembering to focus on the love and social justice that King did.

I've been to the King Memorial on the Kenneth Hahn mountaintop ... and I looked over.

I've seen the Promised Land.
I may not get there with you.
But I want you to know today, that we, as a People, will get to the Promised Land!
And so I'm happy, today.
I'm not worried about anything.
I'm not fearing any man!
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!

Thank you, Dr. King. Your dream will never be forgotten.

The 50th Annual Festival Of The Chariots!

Yesterday was a beautiful day for a Hare Krishna parade, that's for sure. The 50th Annual Festival Of The Chariots brightened up Venice in their yearly celebration that brings music and color to all of Venice, regardless of religious affiliation.

You'll most likely never see most Venetians with shaved heads and saffron robes chanting "Hare, Hare, Krishna!", but that doesn't stop anyone from dancing and parading along with the monks of the order. I've been out of town for the last few festivals, so it was a delight to attend again yesterday for their milestone jubilee anniversary celebration.

My favorite part every time is when the unsuspecting tourists see this spectacle come upon them. Everything stops as the enormous, marigold-bedecked floats pass by, pulled along by Hare Krishna devotees. Everyone chants and sings and bangs drums and blow horns and the whole thing is just a visual and aural kaleidoscope of positive energy. You can see the wonder and surprise on all of the visitors' faces as the parade envelops them in a massive group hug. It's special, even if you've seen it all 50 times.

I saw a bunch of old friends, kids waving from atop their Dad's shoulders, tourists on tip-toe aiming for the best angle to capture this - to them - once in a lifetime deal. As the procession went along, it picked up more and more revelers, as passersby and the general Boardwalk crowd would join in and walk and clap alongside their fellow fun havers.

The only drag in the whole day - as it is every year - is the group of protesters that hold up their hellfire signs and yell through bullhorns about how we'll all burn in hell. Um. Yeah. Here's a whole group of happy people dancing and singing together in the sunshine, holding workshops about enlightenment, offering a free vegan feast to all who wish to partake, with everyone calling each other "Brother" and "Sister" - and they're the ones going to Hell.

 I highly doubt it, and also highly doubt that Jesus would condone the foul behavior of the (mainly middle-aged white angry biker looking men) Bible thumping agitators. But you know what, Free Speech. And the cops are there to separate the two factions, should it get out of hand, but mostly all the Hare Krishna party just laughs at them and their signs with the black metal fonts insisting on gloom and doom. Dumb.

The hatred was easily forgotten, however, in light of the explosion of color and joy that was going on all around.

Giant crowds lined up to get plates of vegan dishes (I see they've added Hawaiian shaved ice and cheese pizza to the mix now days so parents can get their kids to partake, I assume), watch the dancers, listen to the music, get faces and hands henna painted, , look at all the gorgeous saris and costumes, shop for similar stuff from India in the pop-up Govinda's store, and/or partake in the many workshops and speaker tents filling you in on what exactly this group of people believe. It's always felt a little cult-y to me, but I can't really be mad at any religion that is spreading the love like this, and in such a fun way.

There was much to do and see, but then, there always is in Venice. I had an important bloody mary meeting at The Townhouse I had to keep, and another, even more pressing engagement on the sand and in the sea (my Sunday worship) that was crucial that I get to in a timely fashion (and then a stint at Hinano's to make it a perfect Sunday in Venice!), so I had to leave the Hare Krishnas to it, and thank them for another excellent celebration in the heart of Venice.


Here's to 50 more!

Arlo Guthrie Celebrates 50 Years Of Alice's Restaurant At Disney Hall

I was excited when invited to see Arlo Guthrie at Walt Disney Hall, because though I've grown up on his songs, I'd never actually seen him play them live. The audience filing into the wonderful room was clearly a room of Guthrie's own demographic, and they were all excited too. Really excited. You know it's going to be good when you run into Ramblin' Jack Elliott and Sarah Lee Guthrie backstage before the show even started. It was that kind of a show, like a family reunion in stories and song.

The show opened with a video of an animated pickle - yes, a pickle - riding along on his "motorsickle", that seamlessly became his band playing it live on stage beneath the screen, and then Mr. Guthrie joining them (to raucous applause) to be the pickle singing "The Motorcycle Song". He looked like a tall General Custer type, in a black Western shirt - groovy and commanding all at once.

Everyone loved it, and at song's end, Guthrie said, "Thanks for helping us celebrate 50 years of stuff!" He went on to say that they'd lost that video for 40 years ("for good reason") and then wondered what to do with it when they found it. "Now we know." Guthrie introduced his band at the beginning, a group comprised of his friends and neighbors, and including his own son, Abe Guthrie.

"We're gonna play a lot of old stuff tonight,"said Guthrie by way of introducing, "Chilling Of The Evening." That was more than fine by everyone in there (especially when Guthrie wailed on his harmonica). Old stuff because his vast catalog goes back fifty years, and Guthrie said when choosing songs for this tour, even if he'd picked only one from each album, we'd be here for a few days, "and that's just from what I can remember, 'cause you can't pick stuff you forgot." That brought chuckles, and knowing nudges between the also-grey haired majority of the crowd. "I love the old stuff," Guthrie said at the end of "Darkest Hour". We were all in agreement there.

As the tour is in its beginning stages, the set list is still being worked on. Guthrie said he was happy to include one by his father's (the wonderful Woody Guthrie, of course) best friend, Cisco Houston. "St. James Infirmary" was great, and featured an acoustic guitar solo by Guthrie that brought whistles from the people that know.

"On the off chance that there are some young people here ..." made people laugh, but Guthrie explained that he'd been "dragged to things like this when I was a kid ... but before there was recorded music, you had to go get someone to play ... play for getting married, getting buried, for getting hung, songs for kids ... but overnight songs for kids went to hell, they all had to be about building self-esteem, building character ... but these songs were not by someone that had actual, living, breathing kids! It's stupid. You want to scare 'em ... give 'em a reason to stay under the covers! This is for kids." While Guthrie then played the charming, "Me And My Goose" as the video for its children's book of the same name played on the screen. The goose gets cooked, and Guthrie said at its conclusion, "I know it's sick, but that's why I like it." And why we do too.

"My kids made a list of my songs I should know, and this is one of them," Guthrie cracked to introduce his "Last Train". Whereas his father's train was BOUND for glory (and his autobiography has that title), Arlo's is the LAST train. Hmmm. Either way, it was great, as was a rollicking, old Ledbelly tune, "Pigmeat". Guthrie met Ledbelly when he was two years old, and remembered that "If it made a noise, Ledbelly could play it." His early memory was of standing there holding Ledbelly's pants leg - "and that was about it." Guthrie's storytelling is as good as his playing, and both compliment each other beautifully. Ledbelly played the 12 string guitar, so Pete Seeger played the 12 string (in addition to and as often as his famous banjo). "Pete stole everything from Ledbelly, so I stole everything from Pete."

With friends like those growing up, and Wavy Gravy, and Ramblin' Jack, and the list goes on and on ... the stories are really something. Guthrie told his tale about Woodstock, and being flown into the venue by an open-doored chopper. Two policemen were on board with them, talking about how they'd never go down there with all them dirty hippies ... and that's when Guthrie knew it would be a good time. He wasn't set to play until the next day, so went off "and did what everyone else was doing." Suddenly the promoter told him it was his turn to play, "And I couldn't even talk! Or walk!" But he did play ... "At least that's what I remember". He took us back there with him when he launched into a rocking version of "Coming Into Los Angeles" ... a couple gals that might have really been at Woodstock were up and dancing for this one, but they were tame in comparison to a groovy old dude down front who was dancing all alone like he just didn't care, even in the staid Disney Hall. It was awesome.

There was then a brief intermission before Guthrie came back saying, "You're still here?!", sounding surprised. Of course we were, because now it was time for the reason for the evening - the 50th Anniversary of "Alice's Restaurant". People clapped loudly just for the opening chords, prompting Guthrie to say, "Oh, you've heard this one before?" The 18 minute, 34 second talking song really put Guthrie on the map as a spokesman for social justice. The whole story (and accompanying film by Arthur Penn - that stars all the real people of the story, even the Officer Obie nemesis, who in real life became Guthrie's good friend) is all about how dumb justice (or the lack of it) can be sometimes. Some well-meaning kids help a friend dump some trash, get busted for littering, get drafted and have to go with hardened criminals ("These weren't Mother rapers, they were FATHER rapers!" - I've never even heard that phrase!) because of the arrest ... and all they were trying to do was be cool on Thanksgiving. People sang and laughed along throughout, and as Guthrie said, when you get enough people together singing the same song for justice - it becomes a movement. "We can change the world! So sing it loud enough that it's worth correcting in the first place." The last strummed chord brought people to their feet, and the building was tangibly rowdier. It was again awesome.

"When A Soldier Makes It Home" was a lovely tune, but sad too, because it talked about how people didn't care that they were home. It unexpectedly choked me up, because when you think about it, isn't that all ridiculous too? That people would go fight for someone else's idea of a war, and then make it home and be mistreated for it? UGH ... it's all just ridiculous. Thank goodness for people like Guthrie that tell truths, and do it in a way that you don't even realize until it hits you.

Guthrie explained that his sister, Nora Guthrie, has been compiling all their father's work, and as there was so much of it, many of the lyrics found didn't have music. She gave some of those songs to different artists to put them to music, and Guthrie then played us Janis Ian's version of "My Mother's Voice". I, of course, choked up again listening to him sing about hearing his Mother's voice one more time. In a family where everyone is musical, you can imagine how lovely hers must have been, while treasuring the voice of your own in your mind. A special song, for sure.

People LOVED "City Of New Orleans", and Guthrie told about how its writer, Steve Goodman, actually wanted Guthrie to get it to Johnny Cash. Cash passed as he already had a bunch of train songs, "So that worked out well for me." The whole place sang along with the "Good Morning, America, how are you?" chorus, and I think it took everyone back to the sunny day when they first heard it, wherever they were. There was certainly a lot of nodding along and toe tapping to let you know people were feeling it.

One day, friends of Woody Guthrie, Brownie McGhee and Sonny Terry, asked young Arlo to open for them on their West Coast tour. Guthrie's mother said he had to stay with friends or family, and that meant Ramblin' Jack Elliott. Guthrie was thrilled, as he knew what kind of trouble Ramblin' Jack could get into. Immediately upon arrival in Malibu, Elliott took Guthrie to a rodeo, where he saw the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. She totally ignored him, so Elliott gave him some kind of pill to cheer him up, saying, "Don't worry, it will wear off!" When it did, he went to The Troubadour, where the same pretty girl was working as a cashier. She paid him enough attention then to marry him, have his children, and "put up with me long enough to celebrate our 43rd wedding anniversary in 2012." As it's 2015, that suddenly let us know that she was gone, and as the slides played on the screen of Guthrie's beautiful, happy wife Jackie ... this time actual tears sprang to my eyes when Guthrie said, "This is for her," and played "Highway In The Wind". It was a truly beautiful memorial to her.

One of the few songs that Woody Guthrie actually taught Arlo himself was his seminal wonder of a song, "This Land Is Your Land."  We've all sung that classic a million times, but as Guthrie explained it, a piece of you is left with it each time it's sung, making it all the more meaningful. Like when you visit a place that an event happened and everyone goes there to see it, you leave some of yourself there, making it even more of a special place. As we all sang it together again, with the son of its writer, it indeed felt special. Also because of the massive standing ovation Guthrie again earned for it.

When speaking of his father, Guthrie is appropriately reverent, but also funny. He told of how Woody read and was very affected by John Steinbeck's The Grapes Of Wrath, which inspired him to write "The Ballad Of Tom Joad." Steinbeck wrote him a letter after hearing it, kind of mad that Guthrie was able to distill his entire novel into 12 lines! The Steinbecks and The Guthries are all good now, even intermarried, and Guthrie told more tales of their family together, hanging out in a mental hospital with Woody, having parties, making the best of it. You really could sit and listen for days.

There was only one more song, however, and though it was, as Guthrie said, "A bit Kumbaya", we all did sing together once more, the lovely "My Peace." Guthrie said it was a fitting summary of his father's life, and what life could be better than one that goes ...

My peace my peace is all I’ve got that I can give to you
My peace is all I ever had that’s all I ever knew
I give my peace to green and black and red and white and blue
My peace my peace is all I’ve got that I can give to you

My peace, my peace is all I’ve got and all I've ever known
My peace is worth a thousand times more than anything I own
I pass my peace around and about ‘cross hands of every hue;
I guess my peace is justa ‘bout all I’ve got to give to you

And that was that for the music, but not for Guthrie, as his fans stood and applauded until he was gone with a "God bless you and Good night!"

... And we were blessed and the night was good, just for having been there.

The 50 Year Anniversary tour of Alice's Restaurant continues throughout 2015.


*Photos by Paul Gronner Photography