The True Writing Process

One day in June I was walking in my neighborhood when a blackbird (male grackle) dive-bombed me six different times.  It was truly terrifying, and caused me to practically run home. 

Since then, I have been musing on black birds, crows, ravens, and such.  Although many songs and poems praise blackbirds (Blackbird singing in the dead of night/take these broken wings and learn to fly...), there are probably just as many songs and poems that disparage them as evil and cruel (Ghastly grim and ancient raven..).  I've also considered black birds in cartoons and films, nursery rhymes and books -- most notably, the crow in Stephen King's The Stand that haunted my dreams back in 1978 and still scares the heck out of me when I think of it today. Now that's a powerful image!

Since that terrifying day in June, I have been musing on writing an episodic fiction story with the black bird as its dominating image.  I've put off actually doing it, though. Sometimes these things just have to percolate inside of us for a while before they can take form.

It's been sitting in the back of my mind for nearly two months.  Then last night, I heard this song on The Marty Stuart Show, one that Marty wrote for Johnny Cash.  It seemed to be the inspiration to move forward, as well as provide the missing piece I needed for my story.  What's cool is that Marty explains that he was looking for inspiration to write a song about Johnny, and it took a long time.  He finally found it in a fruit tree orchard that Johnny had planted, when he observed some crows hanging around, reminding him of the Man in Black. The result is the haunting "Dark Bird."

I'm reminded again this is what writing is.  It's collecting ideas and letting them sit inside of us, moving around at their own pace, finding connections to the outside world, synthesizing with images and language and dreams, and surfacing when ready, even if just in little bitty pieces.  It is the same with any kind of writing -- poems, essays, songs -- doesn't matter.  This is the true "writing process" -- not the "Prewrite-Draft-Revise-Edit-Publish" crap that we teach our students. No wonder they resist!!! Writing is gathering of images that have to sit inside of us, evolving to a place of strength and courage to be heard. Writing is the culmination of these ideas and thoughts and images and sounds and characters and stories that mean something to us. The true writing formula is this:  Time + Space + Attention + Time + Time.

Let's teach that process.  Meanwhile, I've got a story to write.

What Language Can't Reach

I'm a firm believer in paying attention to anything that seems to re-occur or present itself repeatedly to me.

Today, it is the poet Rainer Maria Rilke.

Since obtaining my iPad, I read the three free articles available daily on from The New York Times. Today in the Book Review essay, "Fallen Idols," Margo Rabb writes about her teenage love affair with Rilke's book Letters to a Young Poet, and how she had longed to meet him. Since that is impossible, she decided as an adult to Google him, and learned that he was considered a "jerk" and "one of the most repugnant human beings in literary history."  Her essay goes on to examine the relationship between authors and their fans, and is quite good.  It's worth reading.

I thought about writing about favorite authors I have met, but realized I didn't have much to say.

Later, I visited one of my favorite blogs, Better Living Through Beowulf, where literature professor Robin Bates considers our times through works of literature.  On Sunday, he approaches the spiritual, so I usually try to catch up with his blog then. 

So...who is featured on his blog today? You guessed it -- Rilke.  The post is a wonderful meditation on how we come into the world, how we embody God, how we know when we "arrive".  The poem he presents is affecting and I highly recommend you read it for yourself.

As much as I loved the poem presented, and even though I had learned Rilke was an arrogant bastard, I knew there was still something I was to seek and find in relation to this poet.

My next step was to pull the book Selected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke off the shelf and breeze through to find what poem is supposed to be mine today. What poem of Rilke's -- now that he has crossed my path twice in less than two hours -- is going to speak to my present experience?

I found one: "Moving Forward."

I love it. 

Coincidentally (or not) I had already decided not to worry about a blog post today until maybe later.  I had gone to Facebook and reposted my blog post from yesterday under the comment "Looking forward."

Here is Rilke's poem.  I am not going to say much about it, except it is speaking deeply to me and all that I've been feeling and journaling about these last few days. I'm not going to analyze.  I'm going to let it be.

After all, the poem is about the unexplainable and that which has no words.

Moving Forward

The deep parts of my life pour onward,

as if the river shores were opening out.

It seems that things are more like me now,

that I can see farther into paintings.

I feel closer to what language can't reach.

With my senses, as with birds, I climb

into the windy heaven, out of the oak,

and in the ponds broken off from the sky

my feeling sinks, as if standing on fishes.

Always Write a Love Poem

I have reached the point I feared I would not reach.

I am getting excited for the new school year.

On Thursday I discovered this quote from Vincent Van Gogh: "I am in it with all my heart."

At the time, I was resisting the start of another school year.  This summer has been my best since I began teaching.  I have traveled and I have started writing again.  I participated in the best National Writing Project ever.  I'm reading whatever I want to read.  I'm having FUN!

Yet, a part of me related to Van Gogh, because I know I love teaching -- I mean, deeply love teaching. So I decided to let the quote rest inside of me while I made plans for school, alternating with still having fun and reading what I want.

It's working.

Yesterday I worked a little more in my new classroom.  I had to tear down a lot of "stuff" that didn't represent who I am as a teacher.  We teach who we are, after all.  I arranged the tables.  I made decisions.  Then I went out for sushi and a movie with my sister.

Evening came and I decided to peruse the literature collections for my 7th and 8th grade classes.  That was all it took.  I had been slightly worried for a time that I would miss teaching the higher level courses and American literature canon I have been teaching the last few years.

"Irises" Vincent Van Gogh

But I didn't need to worry.  What I see in the textbooks is everything I love.  Terrific poetry.  Wonderful stories by favorite authors: Soto, Paulsen, Cisneros, Bradbury, Giovanni, Hughes, Angelou, and yes, even Twain.  Famous speeches. Lots and lots of folktales and myths and legends. Realistic fiction. Cartoons and paintings.  And that's just the tip of it.

I am in it with all my heart. 

My mind went racing.  I pulled out the "dream" notebook I bought when I first decided to make the change from high school back to middle.  I wrote several pages of ideas for both grade levels -- mostly things I have taught at middle and high, projects that I think could be awesome, and lots of mentor text ideas.

Of course, I know the reality.  I will barely be able to scratch the surface of these ideas.  There will be more to teach than what made the list.  That doesn't matter.  What matters is that I sincerely feel ready, and a week ago I wasn't sure I was going to find that feeling.

In the 7th grade literature book, there is a selection called "a poem (for langston hughes)" by Nikki Giovanni.  In her poem she quotes Hughes:  "Always write a love poem no matter what you're doing. Always write a love poem."

I am beginning to write my love poem to this new school year.

It's Not Just Another Day

First thing I wrote in my journal this morning was that in two weeks my new students arrive.

This is a crazy time for teachers -- getting our classrooms ready, making decisions on how to begin, working together to set a good direction.  We gather our supplies, decorate our rooms, create the best learning environment possible.

I will be reflecting on these things the days to come. Meanwhile, sit back and enjoy one of my favorite videos to share with students.  I will definitely be starting the year off with this one.  I promise you it is worth your 10 minutes, even if you've seen it before:

Happiness Revealed

Photo Poem: Travel 2013

Back home.  Back to writing.  I found a poem called "Travel" in the book The List Poem: A Guide to Teaching and Writing Catalog Verse by Larry Fagin.  Here is my version of "Travel," along with photographs.  Enjoy.

Travel 2013

In Birmingham I photographed a statue of Martin Luther King, sporting a bird on his head.

Kelly Ingram Park marked the Road to Freedom

A memorial to four girls killed silently bore witness on a quiet street corner

Tennessee’s Davy Crockett raised his hat in victory

 

Country stars heartfully sang the classics on a glorious Opry night
Henry toured us through backstage dressing rooms at the Ryman Auditorium

Stained glass, the stage, the memories and echoes of the musical decades encompassed there

Ate lunch at the Rock Bottom Brewery, contemplating Nashville in all its contrasts

Studio B reverberated with the sounds of thousands of hits and history

Bill Monroe’s mandolin, Johnny Hartford’s banjo, Trisha Yearwood’s custom boots

Children played in Centennial Park by the impressive Parthenon

Musicians rushed past the Musica sculpture, getting to work on Music Row

The Ohio River barge lit up at sunset, the river high and mighty

We dined in a historic building, the dessert a lesson in perfection

We viewed the Great Smoky Mountains from a 13^th floor hotel room on a mountain top

Ate silver dollar pancakes and blackberry crepes in a log cabin

Strolled the streets of Gatlinburg looking for treasures, then a ski lift up to the sky, a throwback touristy thing to do

In Asheville a full rainbow greeted us, along with my cousin and her husband

We feasted on steaming Korean stone bowl meals, Chardonnay, and conversation

Late into the night we chattered, gossiped, reminisced

The next day I walked Doreen and David’s gardens, swung on the porch swing, talked with their daughter, visited Buddha, shared guacamole and chips

Heading homeward we laughed at a biker feeding his cockatiel 

Ate Sunday dinner at a Houlihan’s south of Savannah

The final day, a smooth ride down the Woodpecker Trail and I-75

Home. 

Home. 

To go is pleasure. 

To return is joy.

Travel Companions in Clifty Falls State Park, Indiana

Honoring the Past, Re-imagining the Present

Once far away from Fort Myers, it becomes apparent that where I now live is "new."  It isn't until I travel a distance that I begin to get a chance to appreciate "the old"-- and to see how others appreciate the past and bring their imaginative present to a place.  Here are four I found that were interesting or inviting or both:

Hard Rock Cafe Gift Shop, Nashville

This is the oldest free standing building in Nashville, and was once called the Silver Dollar Saloon (1897).  It is close to the riverfront in Nashville, and now houses the gift shop for the Hard Rock Cafe.  It still has some of the original flooring. The first floor, where the gift shop is now located, was a saloon, the second floor a gambling hall, and the third floor a brothel.  In addition, there is an tunnel under Broadway (the street pictured here) for smuggling liquor during Prohibition.  This truly was the building with the most character in all of Nashville.

Mark Twain Room, Village Lights Bookstore

The Village Lights bookstore in downtown Madison, Indiana is not your ordinary bookstore.  Inviting, well-lit, and friendly service makes a person never want to buy books on amazon again!  A combination of new and used books, and some pretty nifty gifts, are presented in the front part of the store.  In the back is the gem -- the Mark Twain Room. I apologize that the picture of Twain over the fireplace is full of glare -- I simply could not find a place to stand where that wasn't the case. The Twain room is used for customer reading space, as well as book signings.  A full collection of Twain's books is on the mantle under the framed portrait. Nathan, the owner of Village Lights, recommended the next spot to us.  I purchased some books from this shop -- it was impossible not to!  

Gallery 115 in Madison, Indiana

I am glad we took Nathan's advice and had lunch at the cafe here in Gallery 115.  The gallery of painting and sculptures are all by a local young man -- Erich Phagan -- and his family was involved in converting this space to the most charming art gallery and cafe I have ever seen.  Hardwood floors, original pasty cases, and stunning art -- mostly of the Madison area -- contributed to a unique dining experience.  I spoke with the artist for a while, as I waited for my pulled pork sandwich to be prepared. He makes an attempt to have his paintings look like they are old.  He sculpts little animals and distorted faces and had a whole line of little birdhouses.  This space was originally a butcher shop -- the name still in concrete outside on the sidewalk -- and then was a JC Penney's.  The Phagan family has won many awards for the work they did in this space, and I am glad we had a chance to spend some time with them.

The Courtyard Inn & Cafe and Underground Pub  Rising Sun, Indiana

Built in 1857, this building originally served the community as a general store, and served a larger cause by being part of the Underground Railroad -- it is right on the Ohio River.  The large basement room now houses the Underground Pub.  We had dinner our last night in Indiana in the cafe -- filet mignon with a delicious mushroom/wine/tarragon sauce and the best dessert ever!

Almond Coconut Brownie

I took the dessert to go, and when we got back to the hotel, I decided to take just one bite. Well, it was gone before I knew it.  

Dining at the Courtyard Cafe. Booth seats were old church pews.

Today we leave Indiana and head to Gatlinburg, Tennessee.  Our plans from here are still up in the air, but we know we will be slowly making our way back to Florida.  Once we are in the mountains, I am not sure how internet reception will be.  It has been terrible at our current location, which delayed this blog.  I had to get up before 6 a.m. today to attempt to get this done, because once everyone starts getting on the internet here, it becomes an impossible task.  

Enjoying every minute of our trip and will update again soon!

Top 10 Music City Moments

The last few days in Nashville have been full of music history, delightful encounters, and just plain ol' fun.  In order to make it manageable, I decided to write up a countdown of my Top 10 Nashville Moments.

#10  Running into Reggie from Atlanta
When we arrived in Nashville, we immediately got confused on our directions.  Rush hour on Friday didn't help much, and soon enough we, uh, ran into Reggie.  His Ram truck wasn't damaged much, and frankly, our Prius held up pretty well in the fender bender.  Reggie is from Atlanta and has been in town working on refurbishing the Hilton hotel.  He was trying to sneak out of town early to spend a weekend with his family when we bumped up against him on Lafayette Avenue. Yet, he was good-natured about being delayed while we waited for a Nashville cop to come and write a police report for the insurance companies.  He even said at one point he was glad we ran into him because otherwise he wouldn't have got to meet us, and "we're good people."  If ya gotta have an accident, running into a guy like Reggie is the way to go.

#9 The Oak Ridge Boys leading the entire audience in "Amazing Grace"
The first night in Nashville, we attended the Grand Ole Opry, and it certainly provided many memorable moments.  The Oak Ridge Boys were the last major act to sing, and they led the entire audience in a rendition of "Amazing Grace" for hospitalized country artist Randy Travis.  The Opry is already like a large church -- the seats are basically pews -- and this just made it feel even more so.  It was a perfect ending to a thoroughly enjoyable Opry night.

#8 The People of Nashville
I have been many places where the people are friendly.  But in Nashville, everyone takes it one step further -- they are professionally nice people.  Hotel employees, restaurant servers, clerks in stores, and taxi drivers were all polite, direct, helpful, and organized.  There just wasn't a false moment with any of them, and they never steered us wrong. This alone makes Nashville stand out as an excellent tourist destination.

Contrast of old and new buildings from riverfront Nashville

#7 Contrast of Old and New

Kalisa Ewing performing at Grand Ole Opry

Everywhere in Nashville, the contrast of old and new stands out -- and both are equally regarded.  This was evident our night at the Opry when Jeannie Seeley -- the host for the first segment -- sang the Eddy Arnold hit "Make the World Go Away," her voice ringing out as clear as a bell.  I realized then that the Opry has magnificent acoustics and sound system.  Soon afterward, Jeannie introduced a new songwriter and singer, Kalisa Ewing.  Kalisa sang a new song she wrote, inspired by Hank Williams, called "Montgomery."  Both singers impressed and served as the first of many contrasts I would witness the rest of the weekend.


#6 Henry, our Backstage Tour Guide at the Ryman Auditorium
A fiesty and knowlegeable expert, our 80-year-old tour guide for the Backstage Tour at the Ryman gave us his one and only perspective on all things country music, including the fact that he doesn't "get" modern country and that he likes his music with "twang."  He saw Hank Williams and Patsy Cline before they were Hank Williams and Patsy Cline, and he's a dyed-in-the-wool Roy Acuff fan.  Regardless of his personal feelings, he gave us a ton of information in a short half an hour, and took us through the various Ryman dressing rooms, each named in honor of specific artists such as Minnie Pearl and Johnny & June Cash.  Henry added the icing on the cake to our already awesome Ryman visit.  (More on #3)

Sarah and her band perform

#5  Sarah Jarosz's performance at the Grand Ole Opry
Unpretentious and a true musician -- this is Sarah Jarosz.  She to me is the new Alison Krauss, and the reason I wanted to be at the Opry on July 12th. Like all the other artists, she only sang two songs, one of them being "Ring Them Bells" by Bob Dylan.  She was definitely my favorite performer at the Opry that night because she is all about the music.

#4 Gram Parson's Nudie suit and Emmylou Harris's rose guitar
On Sunday we visited the Country Music Hall of Fame, and it certainly has its share of interesting artifacts -- Bill Monroe's mandolin, Elvis's gold piano, and an entire exhibit of Carrie Underwood's costumes from her "Blown Away" tour.  But by far my favorite was the display dedicated to the inventor of "Cosmic American Music" -- Gram Parsons, and along with him, Emmylou Harris.  Their duets are still among my favorites of any music ever, and I was glad to see that the Hall of Fame gave him his due.  The suit is displayed so that the front and back are able to be seen, and along with it is Emmylou's beautiful black guitar with the red rose.  Breathtaking.

Emmylou's guitar -- I want it!!!

Roses on the butt cheeks!

Front display

#3 The Ryman Auditorium

What can I say about the "Mother Church of Country Music" that hasn't been said?  It was grace and a blessing that artists like Emmylou Harris did whatever it took to be sure this building was restored.  This was the first home of the Grand Ole Opry, but was originally built as a church -- this explains the pews, the stained glass windows, and the amazing acoustics.  I just couldn't get enough of the stage, the windows, the staircases, the artifacts, the paintings, the autographed Hatch prints.  It truly felt like sacred space; hundreds of artist have shared their music in this place, and thousands of people throughout the years their personal pilgrimages to worship the music that means the world to them.  It will forever be one of the most awe-inspiring buildings I have ever visited because it is definitely more than a building -- it is holy ground.

Ryman Stage

Jim -- stained glass windows

The staircase and one of the fine paintings

The one of a kind Ryman Auditorium -- Nashville

#2 Meeting Will and Lisa
Sometimes you meet someone and you know immediately that you are going to be friends.  This is exactly what happened when we met Will and Lisa.

Jim knew Will because of their common interest in collecting guitar picks, but this was the first time they met face to face.  Will and Lisa drove down from Hendersonville, picked us up at the hotel, and before we even got to the restaurant it was clear we were fast friends.  In fact, I asked our server at Amerigo if he could believe we had just met, because we were talking and laughing like we had known each other for years. (He didn't believe us.)  After wonderful food and conversation, Will drove us over the Centennial Park to see the replica of the Parthenon.  We were fortunate to find someone there to take some pictures of us.  We look forward to seeing Will and Lisa when they come down Florida way next spring.

Me, Jim, Lisa, Will

#1 The Best Tour Story

As part of our visit to the Country Music Hall of Fame, we took the Studio B tour.  This is a 30 minute tour of the RCA studio where thousands of songs have been recorded, among them "Cathy's Clown" by the Everly Brothers, "Crying" by Roy Orbison, and "Coat of Many Colors" by Dolly Parton.  (Side note: Dolly also wrote "Jolene" and "I Will Always Love You" at the studio on the same day!)  Today this studio is the home of recording artists like Carrie Underwood and Martina McBride.

The studio was scheduled to be closed on August 17, 1977 -- it was no longer going to be used.  As many of you may remember, that is the day after Elvis Presley died.  Elvis recorded over 200 songs in Studio B, and was the focus of the today's tour.  The studio never did close, and is still in use today. 

When we got in the bus to go to the studio, Ron Herman (our guide) asked if there were any Elvis fans on the tour?  Only about half the people raised their hands.  I did not.  I have never bought an Elvis record, nor have I ever downloaded one.  He just has never been of much interest to me, although I don't have anything personal against him or his music.

Studio B

Once inside the actual studio, we were told various recording stories about Elvis.  We saw the piano where he played "How Great Thou Art" for his gospel rendition of the song.  We heard how he insisted on the studio being totally decorated for Christmas during the month of May while he recorded a Christmas album, complete with a large Christmas tree in the center of the room and gifts underneath.

Elvis knew about aesthetics!

Then Ron told us that Elvis never came to record in the morning.  He would come at night -- around 10 p.m. and could still be found recording into the wee hours of the morning.  As shown in the photo above, the studio has lights in groupings, and they have different colored bulbs. Elvis would often ask for certain colors to shine for specific songs -- red & green for the Christmas songs, perhaps blue for another song.  But on this one night in 1960, around 4 o'clock in the morning, Elvis asked that all the lights be turned off. And this is when our tour guide made the magic happen.  He put on the song that Elvis recorded in the dark, and he proceeded to turn off all the lights -- leaving all of us standing in total blackness listening to Elvis sing "Are You Lonesome Tonight."  It was one of the most emotionally moving musical moments I have ever had, and I felt the effects of it for several hours afterward. Ron made Elvis come fully alive in the studio for us, and I will never, ever hear that song again without getting the same goosebumps and the same tears in my eyes I had today when Elvis was in the building!  And yes, I will be downloading the song.  Want to listen? -- Elvis recorded this April 4, 1960

The piano has been in the studio since the late 1950's & heard on many recordings

On Monday, we will bid a fond farewell to Nashville, taking these 10 amazing memories and many more with us to Indiana and beyond.

Kicking Gas and Taking Names

Friday was a perfect weather day in Tennessee.  We started off at Denny's, ordering off the over 55 menu -- boy, was that good!  Cheese and bacon omelettes, browned redskin potatoes, English muffin and orange juice -- with AARP discount only $13.  We're rockin' this senior citizen thing.

We could have made it to Nashville in a couple of hours from Cullen, Alabama, but decided to take a scenic route called the Natchez Trace Parkway.  According to our AAA travel book, it is a 444 mile parkway stretching up from Mississippi through Tennessee, which is based on a footpath used by the Choctaw and Chicasaw Indians for trading.  It later became a thoroughfare for pioneers heading west.

While making our way from I-65 to the Parkway, we noticed that every bridge expanding even the smallest waterway was named for some brave man -- someone who fought in World War I, or the Korean War.  This seems to be a very "southern" thing, as we had noticed much the same in Birmingham (Kelly Ingram -- whom the park is named for -- was the first to die in World War I).  I imagine families fighting to get their courageous uncle or grandfather in line for a piece of concrete and a sign. One even had a flower and big red ribbon attached.

Soon we did the touristy thing -- made a wrong turn -- and we stumbled into a little town called Lawrenceburg -- the "Historic Downtown" -- a public square with resident gazebo, clock tower, and awesome statue of Davy Crockett.  He is quite revered in this part of the country, having given his life at the Alamo and all.  We took a stroll through the shops (the set up is very much like Shaker Square), and it was mostly (you guessed it) antique shops -- and really bland antique shops.  Absolutely nothing of interest.  There was also a Christian bookstore and a storefront country radio station. And, by the way, Jimmy Buffett music was playing from loudspeakers in the gazebo and could be heard all through the downtown area. Seemed a little out of place, but, okay. Other than that, I can assure you not much is happening in Lawrenceburg.

All hail Davy Crockett!!!

We found the parkway shortly thereafter. If you've ever been on the Blue Ridge Parkway, or basically any other kind of scenic drive, then you have a pretty good idea of what we saw, sans the mountain vistas.  We stopped at a memorial for Meriwether Clark -- of Lewis and Clark fame -- back in the day he was found dead in this area with a gunshot to the head.  No one knows if it was murder or suicide, but the made sure they marked the place carefully with a memorial.  Poor guy.  I just pictured him, alone in the world, not knowing that every school kid in America would someday learn his name, or that in Tennessee they would honor him with a concrete memorial, plaque, and a flag perpetually flying at half mast.

The part of the park with the memorial is used for camping and hiking.  I really did want to hike -- it felt great to be in the woods.  I wandered in for a while and just stood and watched the tree tops bending gently in the wind.  It felt good to be on an honest to goodness footpath through the woods.

Jim wasn't up for hiking. He just hung out with a lizard by the trailhead.

Jim's lizard friend

Enjoying the woods

As we got closer to Nashville, we came upon Birdsong Hollow (Franklin, TN).  There is quite an expansive bridge with stunning views -- mostly of the gigantic houses of the people who live in Franklin.  It seemed to be a popular stop, so we obliged-- walked to about the center of the bridge, took requisite pictures, oohed and aahed about the giant house on the hill.  Back in the parking lot, a little car with "Guinness Book of World Records"' and a motorcyclist had just arrived. We asked what it was about and its called the "Ride the Future Tour" -- an electric car, motorcycle, and two other electric vehicles traveling from the east coast to the west to promote electric energy.  You can like them on Facebook or follow them on Twitter.  Their motto, by the way, is "Help us Kick Gas!"  We assured them we were halfway there, driving a Prius and all, which got us big high fives all around.

Epic.

Riding the Future Tour car

Moving on, we munched on pretzels and drank peach tea while meditating on the scenery.  I couldn't believe how superbly relaxed I became, and Jim, too.  Probably a good thing, because Nashville is a big city, baby, with lots of traffic and competing highways and let's just say -- manic!  We have severely underestimated the size and scope of this town.  Getting around is insane, what with no logic to the street design and several "circles" where you'd damn well better know where you're going.  A little too much for us Ft. Myers folks.  But, we're soldiering on, in the fine tradition of all the brave men so revered here in Tennessee.


Next blog: Grand Ole Opry and more Nashville highlights.

Hanging out on the bridge over Birdsong Holler

Alabama Frame of Mind

We sailed into Alabama yesterday late morning, listening to alternative country mix on my iPod and feeling pretty good.  We had a good night's rest in Tallahassee, and Shelby Lynn was singing about "Alabama frame of mind"  (her song Where I'm From).  Alabama surprised me in a few ways. First, it is a lot prettier than anticipated -- rolling hills, lots of trees, large farms, cotton fields.  I expected it to be the scrub we've seen in southern Georgia, but not so much.

But as we drove along and made a stop in Montgomery for lunch, I found three reasons (and I'm sure there are more) on why I couldn't live in Alabama:

1. Paula Deen as guest speaker at the Ozark Civic Center  (they are obviously expecting a crowd.)
2. The t-shirt on a young lady in McDonalds.  It had a confederate flag on the back and it said: "If you find this offensive, you need a big ol' history lesson"  (Begs the question -- who really needs the history lesson.)
3. The big signs along the road that say "Go to church or the devil with get you" complete with a picture of the Satan himself.

One of the kitschy things the Bama's (as they like to call themselves) do is set up what are called "pioneer village" attractions with a bunch of old dilapidated houses and stores from days gone by.  One of these attractions doubled as a flea market.  None of them looked to have any actual visitors--perhaps they are only open on the weekends.  Nevertheless, we have been playing the license plate game in the car, and most of the plates we've seen in Alabama belong to the Bama's (one even says Sweet Home Alabama -- but I bet you guessed that), or Tennesseeans, who always seem to be in a great hurry to get out of Alabama. Made me wonder just who is going to these exhibits.

As we traveled toward Birmingham, the hills got steeper.  So much of that area reminded us of  West Virginia, around the Charleston area.  If I ever knew it I had forgotten that Birmingham was a steel and mining town at one time.  I was expecting a little more Atlanta, a little less Pittsburgh.

We found our destination easily enough: Kelly Ingram Park in downtown.

Ever since my first year teaching, I have taught the Birmingham Children's March which took place in May, 1963 and was directly responsible for finally getting desegregation laws passed in Alabama and the rest of the country.  Kelly Ingram Park was the meeting place for the people who participated.  This was organized after Martin Luther King had been jailed for nonviolent protests (called unlawful parades) and where he wrote his famous "Letter from Birmingham Jail."  Young people rallied to the cause, as their parents were not in positions to take such risks.

The first day of the protests, the police arrested over 1,000 young people.  The next day, when even more showed up, they turned the fire hoses on them and set the dogs loose. This sad history is commemorated in Kelly Ingram Park.

Detail of dog attack

The park itself is a large, public square (which sadly hosted more than one hanging of a black person lynched in early days) and now contains a pathway called "The Walk of Freedom" which allows a visitor to follow the philosophy, the steps taken in the movement, and is complete with sculptures depicting various events of the march.  There is also a large statue of Martin Luther King, looking toward the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church, the site that would later suffer a bombing and the loss of four young lives.

Sculpture of water hoses pointed at young marchers.

We walked around the park and I took pictures of everything, feeling now I will be able to enhance my lesson on this further.  Many of the locals were happy to act as tour guides -- okay, they were homeless black men, but they were friendly enough, telling us all about the various sculptures and, of course, just charging a small tour guide fee.  We engaged in many of these conversations and honestly, it just added to the enjoyment.

The church was already closed to tours when we got there, so we headed over to the Civil Rights Institute, an impressive collection and timeline of the Civil Rights Movement.  I have been to many exhibits and museums in my life, and I have to say this one ranks very high in my mind for its artistic displays and organization.  It is comprehensive in scope, very moving in parts, with actual video footage playing, speeches by King, and more.  It takes a cold hard look at segregation and its effects.

Sixteenth Street Baptist Church, site of bombing

So I was having a great time taking pictures of everything I found of interest in the museum, when an employee came up to us and engaged us in a conversation -- oh, you're a teacher? My sister is a teacher!  Friendly and warm, but with a message -- you're not allowed to take pictures in here, it is all copyrighted, they should have told you when you came in.  I was super bummed at that point, because I knew they had the actual jail cell King was in, and I wanted a picture of that for sure.  I did sneak one later, but it didn't come out that good, because I sincerely did not want them kicking me out of the museum. Because of that, I won't be posting any pictures of from the museum here, but I will make a slide show for my classroom.

Walking up the stairs to the Civil Rights Institute

Today we head to Nashville, traveling a scenic route to get there.  Tonight we have tickets for the Grand Ole Opry, and will be doing some additional sightseeing over the weekend connected with the huge country music tradition in Nashville.  Just relaxing and taking it all in!

On the Road Again

It's been a very long time since Jim and I have gone on vacation together.  Last time we took a road trip was in 2006, when we traveled to North Carolina and Ohio.  We had our faithful poochie, Macbeth, with us, and we were gone three weeks.

Jim with Macbeth, Blue Ridge Parkway, June 2006

This time we are heading on a different route, one I have not been on before. We will be heading up to the Florida Panhandle, then cutting up through Alabama to Tennessee. This weekend we will spend in Nashville, then head up to a small town on the Ohio River in Indiana. After that, we'll swing back through the Great Smoky Mountains.

My plan for this trip is to create a travel log here on this blog.  I am bringing some of my favorite writers along to keep me inspired: Sherman Alexie, David Sedaris, May Sarton.  We have Siri on my iPad to help us with directions, and a GPS lent to us by Paul for additional help getting places.  I will be scoping places out as setting for stories and keeping my camera charged up for lots of picture taking.

I look forward to sharing our adventure with you!

On Fish, Frightened Ants, and Frankenstein

 [Part Two of My Reading Life: Richard Brautigan]

This past year, I gave a Richard Brautigan poem to my juniors as part of their midterm, and asked them some simple analysis questions.  I already knew the poem, and it was also on the Poetry 180 website, giving it credence to use with high school students.

Gee, You're so Beautiful That It's Starting to Rain

Oh, Marcia,
I want your long blonde beauty
to be taught in high school,
so kids will learn that God
lives like music in the skin
and sounds like a sunshine harpsichord.
I want high school report cards
   to look like this:

Playing with Gentle Glass Things
   A
Computer Magic
   A
Writing Letters to Those You Love
   A
Finding out about Fish
   A
Marcia's Long Blonde Beauty
   A+!

Brautigan is associated with the Beat poets -- Gary Snyder, Allen Ginsberg, and the like -- who were breaking the rules of poetry.  Even still, plenty of poetic devices are evident in many of his poems.

This is one of his more "Beat" style poems, always a favorite of mine:

The Alarm-Colored Shadow of a Frightened Ant

The alarm-colored shadow of a frightened ant
wants to make friends with you, learn all about 
your childhood, cry together, come live with 
    you.

So much longing.  As a young adult, a poem like this would grab a hold of me and not let go.  I think for a time I even had it memorized.

Brautigan can do that to a person.

After writing about Brautigan yesterday, my friend Sara sent me this  poem, which I was only vaguely familiar with. She said she had it taped in her high school locker when she was a student.  It is a real high school poem, to be sure:

Your Catfish Friend

My Brautigan poetry collections

If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond
and you were to come by
one evening
when the moon was shining
down into my dark home
and stand there at the edge
of my affection
and think, "It's beautiful
here by this pond. I wish
somebody loved me,"
I'd love you and be your catfish
friend and drive such lonely
thoughts from your mind
and suddenly you would be
at peace,
and ask yourself, "I wonder
if there are any catfish
in this pond?It seems like
a perfect place for them."

Again with the loneliness and the excruciating desire to belong! I definitely think that is going to be a good one for middle-schoolers.

Brautigan would sometimes weigh in on historical events and literature.  Here are a couple of poems in that vein:

Jules Verne Zucchini

Men are walking on the moon today,

planting their footsteps as if they were

   zucchini on a dead world

while over 3,000,000 people starve to death

   every year on a living one.

Earth

July 20 1969

Formal Portrait

I like to think of Frankenstein as a huge keyhole

and the laboratory as the key that turns the lock

and everything that happens afterward as just the

   lock turning.

I especially like the Frankenstein poem, because it plays a game with my mind.  

One correction I need to make from my blog yesterday -- I discovered Brautigan in 1976, not 1979.  I remembered a night hanging out with my friends Cathy and Kim, after playing cards for several hours, drinking beer and eating Fritos, we passed around the Brautigan poetry books and read the poems out loud to each other.  Previously, I had read them my favorite chapter from the novel (more like what is now called "linked stories") -- Trout Fishing in America.

The chapter is called "Trout Fishing in America Terrorists" and it is a sweet story about sixth graders so bored at recess that they start writing "Trout Fishing in America" on the backs of the first graders.  The chapter takes us through the boys having to go to the principal's office and how he brilliantly handled them.  It is my favorite chapter because it is so human and so evoking of the experience of getting in trouble in school.  Soon afterward, I think for my birthday, my friends gifted me with this shirt:

It doesn't fit me any more, but it resides in my memory box, as my Brautigan books sit together on my bookshelf, always there to remind me the author that challenged my mind and heart with language when I was a young adult.

P.S. I didn't hear about it at the time, but Brautigan took his own life in 1984.  I suppose by reading some of these poems, one might think "no wonder."  But, of course, we never know why anyone does themself in that way.  I can only have compassion and gratitude for his gifts to the literary world. I am well aware he joined the legions of artists who have done the same.

Godspeed, Richard.

All poems copyright Richard Brautigan.