One Nation, Under Stars...

The lights came up on a cheering crowd that moments before were singing along to one of the most well known songs of the last fifty years – “Midnight Train To Georgia.” It was a warm and humid summer night at the outdoor amphitheater in the heart of Atlanta. Flashes of lightning raced across the evening sky announcing to us that the surrounding severe storms were being held at bay just long enough for us to finish our celebration.
We were watching Gladys Knight close out her half of the night’s entertainment with great anticipation for Smokie Robinson to come later. As the lights came up on the audience cheering the performance the crowd suddenly struck me in a way that they had not in my previous visits to this same venue to watch other such stars filled performances reminiscent of my youth. There was a good representation of the Atlanta social strata – at least those with enough money to be in attendance for the one-night performance of two of the great legends of Motown Records who were giving us a great show.
But the show was not what struck me – it was the crowd. In a quick moment I saw a picture of us that spoke thousands of words…
There was no break in the cross section of people that we have been told exists. We were ALL there singing and cheering together. Our media and certain politicians continually pound on our differences and try to drive wedges between us as a cultural group. I realize it’s their own attempt to be able to relate to us and ‘cubbyhole’ our interests, but it occurred to me that they are missing the point. Their divisive hate-speech prism no longer fits us. America has moved on, grown and matured.
We all listened as one faceless crowd to these two great performers croon from across the decadess and we were there to admire them and reminisce with them. They told their stories of coming from nothing and becoming superstars… They embodied ‘The American Dream Realized.’ They were the soundtracks that made up our lives. At the same time, they were showing us that our lives were all intermingled into one shared culture. We all had our own individual memories of their songs and what they meant to us, but while they represented individuality they were representative of a shared experience for us ALL as well. Among the gray hairs and baldheads were flashes of the youth we all were forced to leave behind while at the same time there was a look at the long road we have traveled. We now are showing the signs of age, but there is a bond there between us all. We were of a time of change in America that brought us from the tumult of the 1950s to the unity of the 2000s. No… we’re not perfect yet – get real – but we’ve all grown closer together as a nation. Those of the ‘hate nation’ – from ANY side – are no longer tolerated by the general public; THEY are now the pariahs. Words of derision and anger are working their way out of our lexicons to be replaced by a feeling of a shared path. And, no, it’s not our leaders or Hollywood or the media who are taking us down that path, it is an awakening of our own spirit and a recognition of our own ‘oneness as a nation’ that is moving us along.
And in that moment of recognition with that crowd at an open-air amphitheatre in the heart of the Old South – I was proud of us all. We have come a long way and it was OUR generation that brought us along that road. TOGETHER we will go the rest of the way to putting ‘hate nation’ people in a museum so future generations can look on them and ask, “What the hell were they thinking?”

Losing The Rat Pack

Every once in awhile I come across a place that reminds me of 'days-gone-by' and they cause me to lament what we have lost as a society.
This time it was a restaurant and cigar bar hidden away just off a main street nestled neatly in the middle of the 1960s. I'd tell you where it is, but... NO. That would be like finding THE perfect deserted beach then telling everyone where it is. The next thing you know there'd be a resort planted on it with thousands of people trouncing MY sand and I'd have to go on a quest to find the new perfect deserted beach. And there just aren't that many of them left!! Well, this cigar bar and restaurant are the same way... there just aren't that many of them left… so, NO.
A good friend of mine deemed me WORTHY of sharing this secret Mecca and to whom I will be forever grateful. As soon as I walked in I saw men at the bar smoking quality cigars and I knew I was in the 'right place.' I had to pinch myself to see if I was still alive. Had I gotten run over by a bus on the way here and now I was dead?? This HAD to be Heaven. There were men smoking cigars in the bar!!! I thought there was nowhere left in the country where people could do THAT!!
My next reaction was to get in quick and lock the doors before the 'Smoking Gestapo' found out that we were smoking cigars in there!!! People smoking cigars in an enclosed area within a city limit!! What were we thinking?! What am I thinking? You can't even smoke in the great outdoors nowadays, why would I think we could smoke ANYWHERE and not have 'Brown Shirts' breaking down the doors? Yet, everyone inside seemed unexcited by a new entrant to their secret society and totally unconcerned that they’d be discovered, so it must happen all the time.
Once we got settled in and ordered a couple martinis – which turned out to be HUGE and GOOD compared to what you get at most bars – I was able to take it all in. The place looked like a throwback to 'Rat Pack' days. I LOVED it! I expected Dean, Frank, Sammy, Peter and Joey to come in the door any second, sidle up to the bar and start talking to the ‘broads.’ Perfection… And food to match. Low on foo-foo, high on steaks and lobster.
But as I looked around another ton of bricks landed on me. We’re losing these little ‘finds’ every damned day. Just a week earlier I was in a couple other restaurant-bars and the difference was… stark. First of all, cigars were absolutely FORBIDDEN even on the outside patio. They were glitzy, plastic and contrived – right down to the miniscule uniforms the girls wore. They were right out of some magazine – one of those ‘corporate cookie cutter’ magazines that shows us where we ‘should be’ dining as per some NYC office dweller. BS… I love the character that goes with the neighborhood place and the guys smoking cigars at the bar. It’s the REAL ‘authentic’ the other places are TRYING to capture and missing entirely.
Speaking of the ‘Rat Pack…’ brought to mind another thought. Las Vegas is a perfect example of what we’ve lost as Americana and the American Experience. The boys of the Rat Pack would barely recognize what’s there now. Back in THEIR day Vegas had character. It was grittier, bolder, wilder, more about gambling, drinking and sex and less about trying to be the Nevada Disneyland. Granted, there’s more money to be made from the ‘corporate’ angle, but look at what we’ve traded away.
We’re losing character in excahnge for our bottom lines – we’re trading away our souls to fill our pockets with gold. Is there such a thing as a happy medium? Can we save our character without destroying who we are?
Doubtful… Not any more…