this land is Our land?

"You don't understand, man. I am nowhere near the threat I'd hoped I'd be!"
-Arlo Guthrie

For most of my life, hippie culture was limited to clichéd Hollywood portrayals of stoned, slow-witted adults who rambled cryptically about wheat germ, pseudo-asian philosophy and some ass-backward idea about saving Mother Earth. I never smoked enough pot to understand The Grateful Dead and Joan Baez's warbled rendition of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" was enough to put me off of hippie, folk music altogether. The best hippie-themed song I heard until my mid-twenties was Mucky Pup's "Hippies Hate Water". I occasionally spotted a hippie here and there, but for the most part I assumed that they all disappeared into rural communes or cleaned up their act and got a real job.

Did I mention that I grew up in a U.S. Army culture until I was 18?

I've grown up a little since those days and my view of hippies improved significantly when I met Kat. Although not a hardcore hippie by trade, Kat is a direct descendent of the lifestyle. I soon found myself hip deep in astrological charts, organic eggs and forwarded e-mails from PETA and Greenpeace. I've befriended quite a few hippies over the years and I discovered that many of my preconceptions of hippies were true (except that most hippies do, in fact, like water but detest aluminum-based deodorant). Like all cultural stereotyping, however, it was over-reductive, and simplified to the point of condescension. Joan Baez DOES suck and I was never able to get into Bob Dylan outside a few of his earlier hits, but there are tons of fantastic, psychedelic, hippie bands that kicked ass (in a peaceful, loving way, of course) and quickly became my favorites: Jefferson Airplane, the Great Society, Blue Cheer, 13th Floor Elevators, Country Joe and the Fish, Ritchie Havens, Canned Heat, Big Brother & the Holding Company, and Jimi Hendrix. In addition, I gained a great deal of respect and admiration for a lifestyle that engages everyone as individuals and actively questions the esoteric rules and institutions that govern (and regulate) most people's lives. I am, however, secure in the knowledge that I am FAR too high-strung and obsessive to ever maintain such a benevolent demeanor and there is not enough pot in all of Meigs County, Ohio that could get me there. So, when I saw that Arlo Guthrie was kicking off his 40th Anniversary tour since the release of "Alice's Restaurant", I knew where Kat and I had to be on Wednesday night.

Battery Park City is a jut of land on the west end of Lower Manhattan built from the landfill used to excavate for the building of the World Trade Center. It also happens to be the site of shady, real estate deals that were intended to build affordable housing for low income families. They did build the low income housing but they put in Queens. The apartment towers that live in Battery Park City today are high-end apartments with sweeping views of the Hudson Bay, including the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island and New Jersey. The neighborhoods have that pre-fabbed, soulless feeling, though. At the northern tip of Battery Park City rests an actual park called Rockefeller Park (not enough things named after that family). It was a strange setting for a hippie, folk icon and son of a social-activist musician to stage a concert.

Kat and I have a hard time going out. The best way to trick ourselves into doing anything is to not go home. We took our time getting down there but still showed up over an hour before the start. There was already a crowd starting to gather and onstage there was a rousing folk jam/sound check with The Man Himself at center, manning an acoustic guitar. The whole area had a great, relaxed vibe that instantly took me back to the small-town festivals and bandshell concerts that dominated my Midwestern summers as a kid. It's easy to forget that the hippie/folk music revival of the 60's got it's start in New York City where Ritchie Havens and Bob Dylan plucked their guitars in Tompkins Square Park and small dives in Greenwich Village. Middle-aged women with long, braided hair and tie-dyed skirts danced beside hacky-sack circles and frisbee games. Arlo jammed for 15-20 minutes then retreated to a modest-sized bus.

At 7pm, a folksy group called The Mammals took the stage. Their music wasn't particularly trailblazing, but they set an old-timey, toe-tapping tone and held their own. I recognized a tune from my Buena Vista Social Club CD, a couple of old, folk numbers and some original tunes that echoed 60's folk pieces. For two people who have spent the last 4 years wading through hipsters and scenesters, the crowd was refreshing, and perhaps even more entertaining than the act. A white-hair-and-beard man with oversized sunglass danced a non-stop jig that left me gasping for air. Young and old women twirled and swayed to the rousing banjo-and-fiddle numbers. A short, bearded man in baseball hat and bandana performed a virtual MC act as he bounced to the music then clapped and turned to the audience with a look of 'Aren't they fucking great?! I told you they were fucking great!'

Between sets, a middle-aged guy (sounding like a stoned version of Kramer) gushed about a commune town in Ohio where he planned on living. His friends, long-haired and mellow, gently suggested that a 9 to 5 job might put some much-needed structure in his life. Kat and I glanced about and marveled at the volume of sack lunches that dominated the scene. Most of the audience actually preferred to sit on the grass versus snagging a fold-out chair... and there wasn't a Red Bull or clove cigarette in sight.

I was shocked when Arlo took to the stage, only minutes after the Mammals had left. Where was the diva-like lateness or 30-minute guitar tunings that I had grown grown to expect? Was this legal? Wasn't some form of passive-aggressive behavior Required within city limits? Then, Arlo nearly knocked me out of my seat when he began his set with "Alice's Restaurant". What kind of madness was going on here?! That's supposed to be the Rousing finale! We were supposed to Suffer and Pine for the opening chords so we could Roar and Cheer the release of anticipation! What kind of frigging Performer was this anyway?! Had he ever even Played in front of a live audience?! How could could he possibly go Up after playing his most famous song?!

Arlo didn't kick the tension up and he didn't knock it down, either. This was a loose, casual evening of Music and as the performance rolled from one rise to another, it became apparent that Arlo might know a thing or two about performing and maybe, a little more about what his audience needed than I. Arlo kicked through his better-known songs, played a couple ones from his dad and a Leadbelly classic "Goodnight Irene". He didn't play with coiled urgency that I love in so much of my music, but with a sense of timelessness and quiet observation. For a couple of hours, I was reminded of how important it was to get to know people and not look at the world with an 'Us vs. Them' mentality. I felt better about people and our potential for good and rising to meet challenges.

Then, on Thursday I stood in line for 2 and a half hours so that I could have a piece of metal pulled out of my eye.

I need a mosh pit.