Now and Then Page 2
My life has been balanced on that razor’s edge of God’s
rolling dice
and it seemed as though they had a job for me to do:
Because the Rambler got totalled in Avondale and
Geoffrey’s Ford four o’clock soloing
through a D.C. slalom when the brakes locked
steel and wheels à la lamppost.
Good morning!
And the white preacher, Reverend Cockcroft,
who grabbed me when I treaded on the bottom of Lake
Kiamesha.
And I am small remembering how
she showed me more caring and sharing than I deserved;
more courage and daring than I have.
The ONLY ONE who has ALWAYS been on my side.
And too many homes have a missing woman or man
without the feeling of missing love.
Maybe there are homes that are hurt,
but there are no REAL LIVES that hurt will not reach.
But not broken.
Unless the homes of soldiers stationed overseas
or lost in battles are broken.
Unless the homes of firemen, policemen, construction
workers,
seamen, railroad men, truckers, pilots who lost their lives,
but not what their lives stood for.
Because men die, lose, are lost and leave.
And so do women.
I come from WHAT THEY CALLED A BROKEN HOME,
but if they had ever really called at our house
they would have known how wrong they were.
We were working on our lives
and our homes and dealing with what we had,
not what we didn’t have.
My life has been guided by women
but because of them I am a Man.
God bless you, Mama. And thank you.
THE ‘MOVIE’ POEMS
In February 1981, I went on a Black History Month tour that took me to some of the nation’s most prominent campuses and communities.
There were two things in particular that people everywhere wanted to talk about: First, I had just completed a most enjoyable and successful four-month tour with the #1 entertainer-composer-musician Stevie Wonder, which had included, on January 15th, a rally in Washington, D.C. in support of Dr. King’s birthday becoming a national holiday.
‘What were the chances? How many people were REALLY there? What sort of a brother was Stevie to just be around?’
Second, what were my feelings about the election of President Reagan?
Discussions concerning the second question started to become my first topic during the February lectures. A description of the conditions that paved the way for Mr. Reagan’s election AND what I viewed as the conditions created by his victory.
In April, while working with a man I also consider a creative genius, musician-engineer Malcolm Cecil, the idea of recording the poem (‘Part Two’) without setting the stage, so to speak (with an introduction), didn’t feel right. And there was also a line from a tune I kept hearing that I felt needed to be included:
‘This ain’t really your life, ain’t really your life, ain’t really, ain’t really nothing but a movie.’ The tune became ‘Part Three’ on the album Reflections.
And armed with a bunch of words, a vague structure and my ace-in-the-studio, Malcolm, ‘B Movie’ was born.
And, in 1984 when it became clear that the President would be running again, it was time for another round. However, I felt as though my friends, and even my enemies, would be let down if we decided to do ‘B Movie II’, or even ‘B Movie Also (Too)’. I was glad to find that art can imitate art, even when ‘it ain’t really your life’ – which is why II, 2 or TOO became ‘Re-Ron’.
PART ONE
‘B’ MOVIE INTRODUCTION
The first thing I want to say is ‘Mandate, my ass!’
Because it seems as though we’ve been convinced that 26% of the registered voters, not even 26% of the American people, but 26% of the registered voters form a mandate, or a landslide. 21% voted for ‘Skippy’ and 3 or 4% voted for someone else who might have been running.
And yes I do remember (in this year that we have declared to be from ‘Shogun to Raygun’), I remember what I said about Raygun: ‘I called him “Hollyweird”. Acted like an actor. Acted like a liberal. Acted like General Franco when he acted like Governor of California. That’s after he started acting like a Republican. Then (in 1976) acted like somebody was going to vote for him for President.’
Now he acted like 26% of the registered voters is actually a mandate. We’re all actors in this I suppose.
What has happened is that in the last 20 years America has changed from a producer to a consumer. And all consumers know that when the producer names the tune the consumer has got to dance. That’s the way it is. We used to be producers and were very inflexible at that. Now that we are consumers we find things difficult to understand.
Natural resources and minerals will change your world. The Arabs used to be in the Third World. They have bought the Second World and put a firm down payment on the First one. Controlling your resources will control your world.
This country has been surprised by the way the world looks now. They don’t know if they want to be diplomats or continue the policy of nuclear nightmare diplomacy. John Foster Dulles ain’t nothing but the name of an airport now.
America wants Nostalgia. They want to go back as far as they can, even if it turns out to be only last week. Not to face now or the future, but to face backwards. And yesterday was the time of our cinema heroes riding to the rescue at the last minute; the day of the man on the white horse or the man in the white hat, coming to save America at the last moment. Someone always came to save America at the last moment.
And when America found itself having a hard time facing the future they looked for one of their heroes. Someone like John Wayne. But unfortunately John Wayne was no longer available, so they settled for Ronald the Raygun.
And it has turned into something that we can only look at like a ‘B’ movie.
PART TWO
‘B’ MOVIE THE POEM
Come with us back to those inglorious days before heroes were zeros. Before fair was square. When the cavalry came straight- away and all-American men were like Hemingway, to the days of the wondrous ‘B’ movie.
The Producer, underwritten by all the millionaires necessary, will be ‘Casper’ the defensive Weinburger. No more animated a choice is available.
The director will be ‘Attila’ the Haig, running around declaring himself ‘In charge and in control!’ The ultimate realization of inmates taking over at the asylum.
The screenplay will be adapted from the book called Voodoo Economics by George ‘Papa Doc’ Bush.
The theme song will be done by The Village People. That most military tune ‘Macho Man’. A theme song for saber rattling and selling wars door-to-door. Remember, we’re looking for the closest thing we can find to John Wayne.
Clichés abound like kangaroos courtesy of some spaced out Marlin Perkins, a Raygun contemporary. Clichés like:
‘Tall in the saddle.’ Like ‘Riding on or off into the sunset.’ Like ‘Qadafi, get off my planet by sunset.’ More so than ‘He died with his boots on.’
Marine tough, the man is Bogart-tough, Cagney-tough and Hollywood-tough, the man is John Wayne-tough, the man is cheap steak-tough and Bonzo-substantial.
A Madison Avenue masterpiece. A miracle, a cotton candy politician: ‘Presto Macho!’
Put your orders in, America, and quick as Kodak we duplicate, with the accent on the dupe!
It’s a clear case of selective amnesia: remembering what we want to remember and forgetting what we choose to forget. All of a sudden the man who called for a bloodbath on our college campuses is supposed to be Dudley Goddamn Do-Right?
‘You go give them liberals hell, Ronny!’ That was the mandate to the new Captain Bligh on the new Ship of Fools.
Obviously based on chameleon performances of the past: as a liberal Democrat. As the head of the Screen Actor’s Guild. When other celluloid saviours were cringing in terror from McCarthy- ism Ron stood tall!
It goes all the way back from Hollywood to Hillbillies, from liberal to libelous, from Bonzo to Birchite to Born Again.
Civil Rights. Gay Rights. Women’s Rights. They’re all wrong! Call in the cavalry to disrupt this perception of freedom gone wild. First one of them wants freedom and then the whole damn world wants freedom!
Nostalgia. That’s what America wants. The good old days. When we ‘gave them hell!’ When the buck stopped somewhere and you could still buy something with it! To a time when movies were in black and white and so was everything else.
Let us go back to the campaign trail before six-gun Ron shot off his face and developed Hoof in Mouth. Before the free press went down before a full court press and were reluctant to view the menu because they knew that the only meal available was ‘crow’.
Lon Chaney, our man of 1,000 faces got nothing on Ron.
Doug Henning will do the makeup.
Special effects by Grecian Formula 16 and Crazy Glue.
Transportation furnished by the David Rockefeller Remote Control Company. Their slogan is: ‘Why wait ’til 1984. You can panic now and avoid the rush.’
So much for the good news. As Wall Street goes so goes the nation and here’s a look at the closing stocks:
Racism is up. Human Rights are down. Peace is shaky. War items are hot. The House claims all ties. Jobs are down, money is scarce and Common Sense is at an all-time low with heavy trading.
Movies were looking better than ever and now no one is looking because we’re all starring in a ‘B’ movie. And we would have rather had John Wayne. In fact, we would have done better with John Wayne.
PART THREE
RE-RON
Ah yes, they’re off and running again. The campaign trail. And doesn’t he look like himself? Back in the saddle again.
From Roy Rogers to Buck Rogers to Ginger Rogers to Kenny Rogers to Mr. Rogers to Jolly Rogers. A Re-Ron.
From Gabby Hayes to Rutherford B. Hayes to Helen Hayes to Isaac Hayes to walking around in a bleeping Haze. A Re-Ron.
In the dead of night we’ve seen it all: Boy George in drag? Or was Maggie Thatcher RayGun in drag?
Maggie and Jiggs. What gigs they got. That’s the problem.
It’s a Re-Ron. It’s Geritol. It’s Jerry Mahoney and off the bleeping wall.
He’s terrorized and jeopardized and severed ties and sent our spies to plant them mines and told them lies all for the bottom line.
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
We don’t need no Re-Ron, you know.
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
We’ve seen all the Re-Rons before.
But there he is. Running again. Re-running. Re-ronning. It’s a Re-Ron.
A Re-Ron as predicted before the RayGun threats were worldwide inflicted.
All those recent damages and nerve changes. Re-freezing the cold war and lighting a fire under the hot one.
Banging on the war drums and we’re listening to the rhythms.
It’s a Re-Ron. Milton Berle.
The Duke of Wayne. The Duke of Earl.
Orson Welles doing ‘War of the Worlds’.
The Hardy Boys and Georgy Girl.
It’s a Re-Ron. A corruption piece starring
Raymond Donovan and Edwin Meese.
It’s a Re-Ron. The Latin Plan
and here’s our star: Nacho Man!
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
We don’t need no Re-Ron, you know.
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
We’ve seen all the Re-Rons before.
It’s beyond real-to-reel and Shogun to RayGun.
And no one has been psyched by cosmetic set changes and minimal shuffling of the deck of the cast of characters:
[I was glad to see James Watt go.]
Secretary of the Inferior. James ‘Kilowatt’, Kill a Tree, Kill a Seal!
Attila The Haig transformed into Peanuts. Called Shultz on Capitol Hill.
A dead ringer for the Cowardly Lion from The Wizard of Oz. And every time I see him I hear the song:
‘We’re off to see the Arabs. Off to see the Arabs.’
Or just off. And up the yellow brick road. Another war drummer from the Cap Weinburger school of arms pushing overkill and The Henry Kissinger Peace Academy
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
We don’t need no Re-Ron, you know.
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
We’ve seen all the Re-Rons before.
And through it all we closed our eyes at 33 and 1/3, didn’t we? Going down for the 3rd time under the 3rd degree.
A 3rd of our fellow Americans breaking their backs for 3rd class citizenship,
taking a 3rd less home on payday because of inflation
while 30 years after segregation
was tried, found guilty and banished from the nation
when here it comes again: Discrimination!
And the world watching our response to the 3rd World because
the stakes are the 3rd World War!:
It’s the neutron bomb for Lebanon.
He’s the gladiator invader of Grenada!
There’s millions more for El Salvador!
and he’s up to his ‘Keisters’ with the Sandanistas!
Would we take Fritz (Mondale) without Grits (Carter)?
We’d take Fritz the Cat.
Would we take Jesse Jackson?
Hell, we’d take Michael Jackson!
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
We don’t need no Re-Ron, you know.
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
We’ve seen all the Re-Rons before.
A Re-ron, the late late show.
A black and white flick from ages ago.
A Re-Ron. The late late show.
Ain’t we seen this flick somewhere before?
And then there’s stage presence. My, doesn’t he look like himself?
A Re-Ron:
The face never changes nor political stance.
He’s constantly smiling, a Greek comedy mask.
So cool on the camera. The hair’s in place.
The same old lines and the same clichés.
Perfectly rehearsed. Obscuring wrong and right.
He says he’s defending some bullshit while he’s picking a fight.
It’s a Re-Ron, a time machine
stuck in reverse and filming new scenes.
20 years gone at the point of a gun.
To hell with reality: ‘Places everyone!’
It’s a Re-Ron. Nostalgia got stoned.
Mom and apple pie.
No place like home.
And leave it to Beaver and the Twilight Zone.
Can’t they face it, Goddamnit? Yesterday’s gone.
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
We don’t need no Re-Ron, you know
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
We’ve seen all the Re-Rons before.
A Re-Ron. The late late show.
A black and white flick from ages ago.
A Re-Ron. The late late show
starring Curly, the RayGun, Larry and Moe.
Like a Saturday morning cartoon show. Like a migraine headache you had before.
Cinematic garbaggio.
We don’t need no Re-Ron!
We don’t need no Re-Ron.
SPACE SHUTTLE
Space was the place
where at least we thought our dreams were safe;
where yesterdays of youth and innocence and grace
floated somewhere high above the planet’s face.
Ah, but the distance has been erased
’cause Uncle Sam is on the case.
E.T. is joining the Arms Race!
They’re up there building some kinda military base.
Rocketing through the atm
osphere,
sliding into second gear
while miles below the people cheer
the New Invaders on the New Frontier.
… but there are also those who do not cheer.
The gravity of their lives appears
and in their eyes flash frozen fears
while rocket sounds are all they hear.
Space Shuttle/raising hell down on the ground!
Space Shuttle/turning the seasons upside down.
Space Shuttle/and all the hungry people know
all change sho’ ’nuff ain’t progress when you’re poor.
No matter what man goes looking for
he always seems to find a war.
As soon as dreams of peace are felt
the war is raging somewhere else.
We must have somehow been disarmed
or lost our heads over false alarms;
underwhelmed and over charmed,
watching the storm clouds from afar.
Exploration, proliferation,
spending more while pockets fill.
Assessments of our investments
drive us on to overkill.
Practice looks of great surprise
as the Captain Kirk of ‘Free Enterprise’.
Wall Street says ‘Let’s play Defense!’
and ‘Dollar bills make damn good sense!’
Hail to the new Protectionism!
Let’s bring on the new age of Humanism.
We can put the cap on Capitalism!
We’ve got a giant, mechanical Ray-gunism!
Space Shuttle/raising hell down on the ground!
Space Shuttle/turning the seasons upside down.
Space Shuttle/and all the hungry people know
all change sho’ ’nuff ain’t progress when you’re poor.
No matter what man goes looking for
he always seems to find a war.