This is the way it’s meant to be, perhaps. Heather’s got old friends on the stereo, we’re passing cars on an interstate with a hundred miles to go, the sun is shining down on a perfect day and we’re headed to the gig. Today it’s a festival in Aldie, VA where we’ll play the sun down in the shadow of mountains.
And I’m trying to take satisfaction in that, because this morning I was disappointed with myself. I knew my post about Juneteenth would act as a lightning rod, though I’ll never REALLY understand why people feel so threatened. I guess it’s just triggering to have anything mentioned that’s even PERIRPHERAL to the horrors of “Woke” ideologies. There has been some pride in my heart about maintaining the lie of “relationships” with deep red acquaintances, Facebook Friends with people who rise from silence every couple of months to post something invariably not just misinformed, but usually random and intensely HATEFUL in response to some post of mine. I don’t usually reply too much, though I don’t really do anything to abate the scrum that generally happens as people with closer ideologies to mine pile on the interloper…
Which is wrong of me. I should try to step in. But I don’t have faith anymore. Especially when their comments are simple expletives or random memes. I am somewhat saddened by my choice to go ahead and Block two people in the last 48 hours. I’ve left a third and fourth perennial problem in place, knowing that the next time I post something just TOO problematic for them to ignore they’ll be back and spitting incoherently.
And so I’m sort of feeling guilty for blocking the two I blocked, but I know I need to get over it. I just don’t need to marinate in those hatreds. I know they’re there. I guess I’m just fascinated that they maintain the connection. They’ve burned the bridges. I used to pretend that that meant there was some hope of communication someday, but I’m beginning to think that by maintaining the connection I’m signaling some level of agreement. That from the outside someone thinks I must be approving of these assholes.
Because it’s beyond misinformation now. They’re just maddened and raving. I should probably go ahead and just clean house.
On the highways I think of bumperstickers much the same way. People waving flags of some sort or another – this is the MOST IMPORTANT THING I need you to know about me, even if we’re just passing on the highway!
You’ll note I have no bumperstickers myself.
I’ve definitely got my assumptions. We pass a tiny little blue car with West Virginia plates sporting “INFOWARS” and “FLOURIDE IS POISON IN THE DRINKING WATER” and I admit to being surprised that the driver is Black. Not surprised to see them screaming behind the wheel, waving their arms and weaving a little.
There just seems no saving us from anger.
And then, after a beautiful day at Mountville Folk Festival I’m a LITTLE more optimistic. Ish. Not really. Just in a better mood.
Hot and humid, terrible monitor mix, but a joyous time with friends listening to frogs “glomp” and about a dozen singer/songwriters. Andrew McKnight has a really wonderful thing going on there and he’s managed to have a tight-knit enough community that the kids are involved too. He’s got people to pass the whole thing along to – kids who’re excited about the event even though they’re not musicians. Maybe they’ll stick with it.
The stars came out in Aldie, VA, I hosted a song circle which I enjoyed FAR more than I was expecting (I think I really miss playing around a campfire to half-seen faces, playing by feel) and we left earlier than I wanted but later than we should’ve to be home at a … if not “reasonable” hour than at least a manageable one.
Saturday dawns far too soon and I’m off to the Catonsville Club House helping my friends Brennan and Tori set up for their kid’s B’Mitzvah. I don’t know the child like Heather does, but they were the baby on our Another Life / Another Live album cover and weirdly we did the photo shoot in the parking lot of the venue where they’re having the reception – so it’s strangely full circle – or at least as full circle as one can get at 13 years old.
I’m actually holding down the fort betwixt decorations and the arrival of the caterers, and the big outdoor venue, the Vortex, that they’ve built next door, is in the midst of a massive 80s party of some sort, with a bunch of 80s Tribute bands. It was the Cure a little while ago, these guys are working there way through R.E.M.’s greatest hits… I probably missed Hair Force One which is a damned shame because hair metal is, of course, a guilty pleasure.
But for right now: DON’T GO BACK TO ROCKVILLE!!!! And waste another yeaaaaaar!