08/19/2008
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Staff photo by Andy Molloyfrom the Kennebec Journal
Finding shelter for those who serve their nation
Immigrant recalls her special greeting
State gains $85M in Homeland Security funds
Man arrested after swerve toward cop
School unit in limbo
Rain? What rain?
LEE LATCHES ON WITH THOMAS
Modern camping equipment takes it to the extreme
All of today's:
News | Sports
from the Kennebec Journal
from the Morning Sentinel
Civil War-era flag finds honored position
Residents wonder if the rain will ever go away
FAIRFIELD Sewage plant rejection irks man
Winslow's fireworks guy doesn't mind the obscurity
At holiday derby, the fun is catching
Vets' champion 'very passionate' about her work
Hersom deals with change
Sandals work for outdoor types
All of today's:
News | Sports
from the Morning Sentinel
First there was Dave Brubeck -- his "Jazz from Oberlin" recording, with the wonderful rendition of Perdido. Then I switched to an old Pete Seeger compilation, Clearwater Classics.
Thinking about a column while walking was easy. Now, on a rainy, dreary August afternoon, the task is putting those rambling thoughts on paper (well, actually on a computer screen) in a way that turns the jumble into something coherent and worth reading. You be the judge of my success.
The rail trail is a treasure. The trail is well maintained, largely by volunteers. There is very little litter. Most people who walk with their dogs are considerate, picking up and removing waste. More importantly, the scenery is beautiful, the walk refreshing.
The people you encounter are delightful. Some run, some ride their bikes, some walk quickly, others move slowly. Many push babies in strollers. All seem to exchange nods or friendly hellos. You never see a frown on the rail trail.
Sometimes I walk without my iPod, listening to the sounds of the river, of the birds, of the people I pass or who pass me. Other times, I walk to Bach or Ella Fitzgerald or Bob Dylan.
If I want to walk faster, I turn on the Wolverines of Bern, a European jazz group. You've probably never heard of them. If you like up-tempo jazz, give them a listen.
The iPod Nano was a birthday gift from my wife. I'd hinted that I wanted one; exercise is easier with music. It came with a small brochure of instructions on how to download music from the Internet or from CDs.
I studied the instructions -- and understood nothing. The brochure referred me to a Web site. I tried that and became even more confused.
The solution was obvious.
I called the 15-year-old son of friends and begged for help. (I won't embarrass him by using his name.) He came over and gave me lessons. He didn't turn me into an expert -- I still don't know how to create and eliminate playlists -- but at least I can download music and enjoy it.
Grownups joke that we need kids to help us understand how to use the remotes that control our televisions and to use our computers and cell phones, but it's not really a joke -- nor do I consider it a problem. Each generation has always grasped technology that parents do not fully understand. That's progress; we'd be in sad shape without it.
I'm just glad I can learn, and that a 15-year-old was willing to teach me. (Incidentally, my 14-year-old nephew in Milwaukee says he'd gladly help his Uncle David if I need more advice. He plays video games that I don't even begin to understand.)
Another rambling thought as I walked and listened to Pete Seeger -- a musician totally unknown to most teenagers -- was that the themes of his music seem as appropriate today as when he first wrote them.
Seeger and Lee Hays wrote "If I Had a Hammer" in 1949 -- I was 8 years old -- in support of the progressive movement. It was first recorded by the Weavers, a folk group that included Seeger, Hayes, Ronnie Gilbert and Fred Hellermen. I came to know it a decade later, when Peter, Paul and Mary recorded the song.
"If I Had a Hammer" is as timely today as it was nearly 60 years ago. "If I had a hammer, I'd hammer out justice, I'd hammer out freedom, I'd hammer out love between my brothers and my sisters all over this land."
Seeger didn't write "We Shall Overcome;" various versions can be traced to meetings of black and white coal minders in the early 1900s and to black churches in the 1800s. But his recordings and performances helped turn it into the anthem of the civil rights movement of the 1960s.
Sadly, the racial intolerance that is the focus of the song remains among us today. But, as Seeger sang and I walked along the river, "deep in my heart, I do believe we shall overcome someday."
Peter, Paul and Mary -- also on my iPod -- are still timely as they lament the cost of war in "Where Have All the Flowers Gone" and "Blowin' in the Wind."
My iPod playlist is not just protest songs. I have Harry Belafonte, James Taylor, the Byrds, Billie Holiday and Duke Ellington. There's Gregorian chant and Native American music. No rap, no hard rock, no heavy metal. I can't imagine walking along the river to that.
Here's a random thought for my next walk on the river. What would it be like to trade iPods for a few days with a teenager? Perhaps I'll suggest that in a text message to my nephew.
As soon as someone teaches me how to send a text message.
David B. Offer is the retired executive editor of the Kennebec Journal and the Morning Sentinel. E-mail davidboffer@hotmail.com.
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