I'm Mad as Hell...

“I’m Mad as Hell and I’m Not Gonna Take It Anymore.” Many of us are old enough to remember the iconic movie, “Network” from 1976. Howard Beale (played by Peter Finch), the news anchor for a fictional news network, finally has enough and ventilates in a now famous on-air tirade that ends with these words. I don’t know about you, but I’m almost there!

Sometimes things come at me in clusters. In the last six months I have read “The Divide”, a book that describes the increasing wealth gap and how our justice system prosecutes—beyond belief—the small-time offender and rarely indicts individuals in large financial firms responsible for massive fraud costing individuals and nations billions of dollars; “The New Jim Crow”, a book that chronicles the mass incarceration of thousands of people, disproportionately people of color, that began with the war on drugs, and the life-long tragedy this brings individuals through our dysfunctional criminal justice system; “Just Mercy”, a book about the plight of death row inmates who have received incompetent legal representation and been the victims of vindictive and dishonest officials; saw the movie “Selma” about the civil rights movement in the 1960’s and the march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama and the brutal, vicious treatment of the unarmed marchers by local law officers and citizens.

And then I watched (and listened) to President Obama’s State of the Union address to congress and the nation. By this time I was already ruminating about the injustice in parts of my culture: the oppression and suffering of thousands of my brothers and sisters because of their color, sexual orientation, religious tradition or economic status. As I reflected on the president’s speech and the images of the body language of many of my elected officials (this is a problem with live television), I couldn’t decide whether to be angry or laugh hysterically. I chose the latter! Think about it, the majority of officials in attendance were older, white men dressed in dark suits, starched white shirts and boring neck ties; it looked a little like penguins in their nesting grounds—talk about lack of imagination, creativity and independent thinking. Just so you know, I too am an older, white man; hopefully with a bit more imagination than what I saw that night. To make it worse, when the president made statements that should get everyone on their feet like, “women should receive equal pay for equal work” or “Every American should have access to post-secondary education and therefore we should make attendance at a community college available at no cost” or unemployment is down or thousands of people without access to good healthcare now have insurance—the penguins sat stone-faced. No applause—expressions of contempt on many faces. What’s the message? Women are not entitled to equal pay! Everyone who can pay is entitled to higher education! Or maybe, NOTHING this president can say will get my support or respect.

So, my laughter has ended and now my challenge is to be more than a silent cynic. Maybe I’m already “Mad as Hell and I’m not Gonna Take it Anymore.”—Stay tuned.      

            This is the first post on this new blog. I hope these posts will speak to the experiences of all who share in the reading. This essay was written in 2011 when I participated in a writing class, "Spinning Words into Gold", at the John Campbell Folk School. Maureen Ryan Griffin was my teacher and remains a major influence.

Feeling Where Music Comes From

            Several years ago I attended a concert at Middle Tennessee State University. Their jazz band was giving a Spring concert and there was a guest soloist - a well known trombonist whose name I can’t remember, but that’s not important. I love everything about the trombone; the sensuous, resonating sounds that travel across a room and seep in to every pore of my body en route to some place deep within my core; the way the player can sneak up on a note with just a subtle movement of the slide; the way it can take the lead or just play beneath the rest of the band adding color, texture and harmony while they take the lead. Can you see why I would like to be reincarnated as a trombone? (Assuming people can come back as musical instruments)  Maybe I already have a trombone soul…

            Well, back to the concert. I don’t remember any of the details of that night except for one incredible piece. The soloist, backed by the stage band, played “Green”, the song made famous by Kermit the Frog. Even now, I close my eyes and hear the lush, deep voice of the bass trombone saying “It’s Not Easy Being Green.” It feels like I’m wrapped in purple velvet. The major 7^th and major 9^th chords under the melody bring chills and tears. How can music create such powerful emotions--not words, just the sounds?

            I have loved the trombone sound for years. The Dixieland of Jack Teagarten, the amazing jazz duets of Kai Winding and J.J.  Johnson, but—that night  the song, “Green” was different; It seemed like all my senses were  involved. This was nearly 30 years ago but the feelings and the memories are as vivid now as then.

            Not then, but a few years later, part of the magic of that night became clearer. In a chance meeting with the philosopher, theologian and poet, Kermit the Frog, I described my experience at Middle Tennessee State University in 1982. I said to Kermit, “I don’t understand what happened to me. Do you have any explanations?”

            "Well, Russell”, Kermit said, “think about this: the melody and rich chords spoke to that part of your senses that gets pleasure from the sounds of music. But, I think that the poem in this song, even though it was not spoken that night, was in your mind--not in a conscious way. The poem was speaking to you. I am going to read the words to you. Close your eyes—feel where the words come from; you’ll figure it out.”

            It’s not easy being green

            spending each day the color of the leaves

            When I think it could be nicer

            being red or yellow or gold or something

            more colorful like that.

            It’s not easy being green

it seems like you blend in with so many ordinary things

and people pass you over cause you’re not standing out like

flashy sparkles on the water or stars in the sky.

But greens the color of spring

and green can be cool and friendly like

It can be big like the ocean; important like a mountain;

or tall like a tree.

When green is all there is to be

it can make you wonder why

but why wonder, why wonder why?

I am green, it’ll do fine, it’s beautiful and…

it’s what I want to be.