Hello on the last days of September,
I have noted from time to time that I have these chronological couplets, where two significant figures or events from my life share a date. And today, the 27th of September is one of those days. It is the day I graduated from Marine Corps boot camp in San Diego (1973), and the day my grandmother, the first mother I remember, my hero, passed from this life (1977). And there is even some connection between the Marines and her because when I enlisted she informed me that a member of her generation was also a Marine veteran. My being a Marine has influenced my life in so many different ways, influenced both my understanding of the Corps – to this day, as well as how I understand the world and myself. While I appreciate and respect veterans of every branch of our Military, there is brother/sisterhood that is unparalleled in the other branches, at least in my experience.. I experienced that just today when I volunteered at the veterans’ table at the annual Bloomsburg Fair. Certainly, the group of veterans at the table volunteering are aging. Two of the most esteemed WWIiI veterans in the area have recently passed, and both those from the Korean Conflict and Vietnam are of retirement age and beyond. Yet today, I met a decorated Marine veteran who when into the Corps when Kennedy was our President. Three Purple Hearts and an incredible service record, visiting over 100 countries, and I was honored to sit next to him for a few hours today and will more this week. That first night at MCRD on the yellow footprints in burned into the memory of every Marine, be it at Parris Island or San Diego. The time served and the title earned are life changing, but to be honest, those first days of processing are overwhelming; I put my head under my pillow those first two nights and cried. My father was right. I had no idea what I had signed up to do. As I’ve recently noted, the time I cried most uncontrollably would be at my grandmother’s funeral. Those tears, were again because I was frightened. I had lost my protector, the person I trusted more than anyone. The person I believed, loved me more than anyone ever had. Interesting how tears connect the two things related to that date – and yet, there’s a third life-changing event on the 27th of September. In the year 2000, it is the date that I again became single. In the 26 years since, there have been times where paths have crossed, never face-to-face just to be clear, each time initiated by the other half. And each time there has been a pattern, teaching me more.
The title of this post comes from a song that appears on the third Kansas album, Masque, titled “The Pinnacle.” Steve Walsh, with his incredible voice almost intones the haunting lyrics of one looking back on their life. One might question if the pinnacle is actually looking down or is there a wistfulness, merely looking back in a sense of disillusionment about what might’ve been? “I’ve got so much to say, and yet I cannot speak/Come and do my bidding now, for I have grown too weak/My weary eyes have seen all that life can give/Come to me, O young one, for you I can forgive. Kerry Livgren, the lyricist and composer of much of Kansas’s early music, in his own biography titled Seeds of Change, noted he was searching. The song continues, “Of all that I endure of one thing I am sure/knowledge and reason changed like the season – a Jester’s promenade.” There is only one other time that I can think of the word jester being used in the lyrics of a song. The lyrics are “When the jester sang for the king and queen/In a coat he borrowed from James Dean/And a voice that came from you and me/ Oh, and while the king was looking down/The jester stole his thorny crown/The courtroom was adjourned/No verdict was returned/And while Lenin read a book on Marx/A quartet practiced in the park/And we sang dirges in the dark/The day the music died.” Words from the incredible song by Don McLean, “ American Pie.” McLean infamously noted when asked about the lyrics “It’s poetry. It means whatever you want it to mean.” He would continue, “Once it’s explained, it dies.” Some have argued that in the song, “American Pie,” The jester is Bob Dylan, who took the place of Elvis Presley. Perhaps in both songs, there is the struggle with change and what change brings – there is the struggle of the things we dream about or hope for and what reality becomes.
I often struggle between feeling I am stuck in some modified deterministic existence and hoping for a true sense of free will, and yet, as noted by Luther, and argued by the comedian, Flip Wilson’s memorable phrase, we are compelled to question where it all shakes out. Are we, indeed, merely in “a jester’s promenade,” leisurely strolling toward some infinity, or are we aware of the world and its complexity, struggling to make sense of it all? I think we sometimes vacillate, sometimes we feel powerless as we navigate the forces around us, unsure whether or not we have any sense of agency. It is in those moments the jester comes to the fore. Livgren’s lyrics describe with profound accuracy where we exist. Yet in history, the jester has both a unique position and unique power. They could question and mock all, including the monarch with immunity. They could speak political truth, no matter how harsh with a level of truthfulness unavailable to any other. And indeed they could stroll into any situation unafraid they would be accosted. They were the early journalists of their time, and long before there was any ideals or thoughts of constitutional rights, they experienced what I believe we might now call 1st Amendment protection. While some argue (and to some degree with good reason) that Livgren was attempting to wrestle with his own sense of the eternal, I believe (as recently noted) Kansas as a band had a strong sense of the world and the dangers it faced, from an environmental perspective (“Song for America”) to Native American culture (“Cheyenne Anthem”), from existentialism (“Lonely Wind”) to a serious consideration of Christian faith (“Chasing Shadows”), I believe Kansas allows listeners to express their own thoughts and questions about human existence through incredibly powerful and compelling music. From the first time I heard Kansas, while stationed in Hawaii in the Marine Corps, their music stunned me because there was no simple 1/5/4 three cord structure typical of most rock and roll. They fought against the 3.00-3.30 second top forty requirement. The progressive music of Livgren pushed back against the rules of the day. The classical underpinnings from complex orchestral vibes to Steinhardt’s incredible violin turned much of the rock world on its head. And that was before you even considered the lyrics. Perhaps Kansas was the jester to the music of the day, and four decades later, their music still resonates with both a new generation and those of us who were around for their first self-titled album. Looking forward to tomorrow’s concert.
Thank you as always for reading,
Michael
