But, 'tis the season for wondering just exactly what direction our beloved America is going to take shortly after the New Year dawns and a new President is sworn in. "The people have spoken" and the consensus is in: change is in the air.
And not the kind that was paired so poetically with hope a mere eight years ago under the aegis of a new President riding his own wave of populism. Oh, no, there will be none of that. This change has swelled the river banks of rage and unrest and has kicked in the teeth of every pundit and pollster across our great land, ushering in the once-unthinkable man of the people -- the one who promises that America will, indeed, be great again.
Whilst pondering on this day after Thanksgiving -- and, by the way, I am immensely thankful for the blessings I have received; those of family and friends, generally good health, a job that supports me and allows me to contribute modestly to the general welfare of those around me -- I happened to begin humming a few lines from the Arlo Guthrie song, The City of New Orleans. (Actually, Arlo only covered the song; it was written by Steve Goodman.)
But, I digress...
The rousing chorus is what popped into my head:
I am connected to this song for a number of reasons. I like the folk/protest feel, the gritty, bluesy, sing-it-like-it-is character. I like the memories of the Illinois Central Railroad, which ran right smack dab through the middle of my hometown, giving rise to the relatively poor excuse of a public park we played in when we were kids (we didn't care -- we just though the monkey bars were cool!)
But the route elicited in the song and on the railways, from Kankakee through Memphis, Tennessee and on down to 'Nawlins, is something of a metaphor for our country and the hard times that have befallen us. The old, grey railroad ain't what she used to be -- to borrow another musical metaphor. And, one gets the gut-level feeling, neither is America.
Hence, the results of our General Election just past.
Goodman writes and Guthrie sings:
But, all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rail still ain't heard the news
The conductor sings his songs again - the passengers will please refrain
This train got the disappearing railroad blues
I wonder which way America is headed. I hope and pray for the best, not so much for me and my generation, but for my children and my grandchildren, and their children and so on.
And, mothers with their babes asleep rocking to the gentle beat
The train rolls on. The nation rolls on.
But, where?
