All Posts Tagged With: "freedom"

I was driving home around midnight tonight. It was cool outside, probably around 60 degrees. It is dark on the country roads that lead to my new, modern condo. I came upon Curtis Road while driving my usual route south on First Street. I am supposed to continue heading south on First to get to my place. Just before I got to the intersection, House of the Rising Sun warmed the radio. It was the good version, too. The one by the Animals. Often, or maybe always, I prefer the radio to iTunes or a CD. The radio is wild and spontaneous. The radio is opening a present on Christmas morning, while iTunes is buying your own presents year after dreadful year. With radio you will more often be forced to listen to unwanted notes and songs, but when the perfect song crackles on the imperfect airwaves there is not a better moment in my life. I sing and shout along with these perfect songs when they come along.

On this night, about two hours ago now, I turned left onto Curtis Road, instead of proceeding straight to my home. Country roads are often grids with cross streets spaced apart by about one mile or more. Savoy country roads conform to these traditions. I had noticed a slight fog before, but a half mile into my journey down the mysterious and dark road the fog grew more dense. The canopy of fog hovered over my car. It skimmed the turquoise roof of my 1993 Beretta. I reached out the window a couple of times to touch it, but it felt no different from regular air. House of the Rising Sun was only about halfway through its 4 minute and 32 second duration when the fog became very dense such that I had to slow down for caution, though this adventure was intended to lack caution. My chest felt with anxious certainty that something awful, something bloody and gory would soon happen. Perhaps a person would appear in the road and I would not have enough time to avoid winning in an unfair joust to the death. Perhaps one of the farmers would shoot at me for shouting the lyrics so madly and loudly out of my lowered, hand cranked windows. Perhaps a lonely Midwestern ghost would say hello to me. The Animals’ version is eerie and mysterious and ambiguous and beautiful and burning with orange Louisiana chords. The fog and the music and the madness and the darkness and the fate all crashed into one moment. They all crashed into one moment of calm and soothe and freedom and youthful wonder and wander. I floated as still as the fog.

In all, my journey was about 4.12 miles, according to Google Maps. Nothing eventful happened, unless you consider the above events to be eventful. Maybe this is a pointless story not worth sharing. Maybe the point is buried or subtle. Maybe I’m just full of shit and thought it funny to waste your time.

I have been listening to the musician Eva Cassidy for the last several days. I first heard her music in 2003 and was shaken to the core by the beauty of her genuine voice. Those initial musical goose-bumps have never gone away—and her rendition of “Autumn Leaves” still brings tears to my eyes—even though it is spring!

A lot of posts lately have dealt with the presidential campaign and the up-coming election. Listening to Eva Cassidy reminded me of why elections are so important—to elect a government that will not interfere with me listening to magnificent works of the greatest musicians—so I can go on the uncensored internet and find the most touching picture I have ever seen in my life—so I can be free to express myself.

I was recently talking to Prescott telling him how excited I was to move back to Germany this summer. He asked me if there were any qualities of the US that I cared for. After a laundry list of answers including going to a library that actually has books in it and the ability to wear as much make-up as I want without being considered a prostitute—I realized that my time in Germany made me really appreciate all of the freedoms I have as an American.

I am reminded of my former East German friend’s father’s affinity for The Who. There is The Who memorabilia all over the house. The guy has photo albums of concerts, autographed photos, vinyl records, and everything else you can imagine. I asked my friend what the deal was with The Who stuff—and she told me that The Who was her father’s connection to freedom. He had to smuggle the records into East Germany and if he was caught listening to the music—who knows what would have happened. Once the Berlin Wall came crashing down, the first thing her dad did was go to a The Who concert—finally. And here I am tonight listening to one of the greatest musicians—Eva Cassidy—without consequence.

In the next election, instead of focusing on whether our next president is faithful to his or her spouse, let’s think about their faithfulness to the institutions of the United States. Does he or she respect the dreams of freedom of our founding fathers and the unfinished reality of our American lives today?

President John Adams said, “I must study politics and war, so that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history, naval architecture, navigation, commerce, and agriculture, in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry, and porcelain.”

With their sacrifices, I am allowed not just to be human, but to be a person—listening to my favorite songs tonight.

Ron Paul visits the Daily Show.

Tom