2017 – The Constant Harper

The One and Only

Drummer Reggie Brisbane, of the Claude Jones band, performs at Earth Day 1971 in Washington, D.C. — Drummer Reggie Brisbane performs with the Claude Jones band on Earth Day 1971 in Washington, D.C.. (Photo by Phil Geyelin)

So another Earth Day is upon us.

Earth Day is a sacred concept to me. I was, and still remain, a flower child, albeit a grey-haired one these days. However, almost fifty years ago, when the first Earth Day concert and rally took place on the grounds of the Washington Monument, we gathered to listen to the music and the speeches, energized by our passion for the cause, which was nothing less than saving the Earth.

The Claude Jones band was among those on the Sylvan Theater stage singing songs of hope and courage that day. We may have been naive, but we were sincere as all get out. The Age of Irony hadn’t yet dawned.

Before the Earth Day movement began in 1970, there was no Environmental Protection Agency. Unregulated toxic chemicals were part of the landscape. The publication in 1962 of Rachel Carson’s landmark book, “Silent Spring” helped spread awareness of the dangers of reckless pesticide use.

In the decades since those tumultuous times, the entire world has become more conscious of the need to protect the resources on which all life depends. Clean air, water, and fertile soil — the fundamentals. You might think this is so obvious that you wouldn’t have to make laws to ensure that some greedy developer or thoughtless tycoon won’t poison the Great Lakes or bulldoze the redwoods. Yet, as we have learned, not everyone gives a hoot about redwoods.

Thus, here we are again. Another Earth Day, still just the one Earth.

Recycling is great. Organic farming is good. Planting trees is helpful. But now the current administration is disabling protective measures put in place in the past few decades. They claim the problems are solved, and they want to revive outdated destructive practices rather than support creative scientifically proven new technologies for producing clean energy.

Sigh.

Okay, young people. Charge up your devices and prepare yourselves. It’s not going to be easy. But nothing worth doing is. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is not to win the Super Bowl, or the World Series, or even the next rigged election. No, the mission, is the same as it ever was.

Love one another. Take care of the Earth. It’s the only one we have.

In Pursuit

Now that I’m closer to being 70 than I am to the ‘70s, I find my enthusiasm for the hectic skirmish of modern life is tempered by the cold shower of perspective.

In January, as I joined thousands of women thronging the streets outside the Capitol rallying for justice and civil rights for all citizens of this still young country, I couldn’t help noticing how many of my fellow marchers were too young to have experienced the protests of the ‘60s and ‘70s. It was encouraging to see their passion and conviction that right must prevail over might. However, having witnessed more than a few wrong turns in the journey of this rough and tumble democracy, I’ve come to feel that flashy speeches and flag waving are just smoke and mirrors. The nitty gritty work of democracy is accomplished in the quiet dedication of scholars and the unflinching courage of soldiers.

Real heroes have no need for boasting and threats. They simply do their jobs.

Lately I’ve been thinking about the scholars and soldiers who helped establish this democracy of ours. We hear the stories of George Washington and the lore of Jefferson in school. But how many of us have the time and energy to dig deeper into the complexities of the characters who shaped our national heritage?

I am no scholar. I’m more of a cultural mayfly, skimming the surface of the mysteries of life. Recently I read with delight “And the Pursuit of Happiness,” Maira Kalman’s illustrated journal, published in 2008, a moment of historic optimism. Her piquant drawings and dry observations offer a refreshing mix of offbeat humor and admiration for our history and democracy itself.

She covers so much territory, from Leif Ericson to Herman Melville, from Dolley Madison to Ruth Bader Ginsberg. And in each case, Kalman delivers surprising insights into the past and what we can learn from it.

I was particularly intrigued by the chapter on Thomas Jefferson. Having spent most of my life in Virginia, I thought I knew all there was to know about our third president, the one who wrote, “I cannot live without books.” He also wrote the Declaration of Independence. He was 33 when he wrote it. He owned hundreds of slaves, even though he was against slavery. As Kalman puts it, “The monumental man had monumental flaws.”

It’s hard to imagine any of the current crop of “so-called” statesmen measuring up to the achievements of the early men and women who dedicated their lives to the ideals of this democracy. But in addition to the sketches of famous patriots, Kalman also offers vignettes of lesser known men and women working then and now to keep the democratic dream alive.

I was heartened to learn of the Thomas Jefferson quote engraved above the door to the women’s room in the Capitol Building. “Enlighten the people generally and tyranny and oppressions of body and mind will vanish like evil spirits at the dawn of day.”

Read on!

Seize the Days

The marmot, like its cousin the groundhog, is a shy retiring type, eluding autograph seekers by hiding in a burrow. — The marmot, a member of the groundhog family, is a shy retiring type, eluding autograph seekers by hiding in a burrow.

Today is Groundhog Day, a holiday which will forever be linked in my mind with Bill Murray.

Maybe I’ve watched the movie too many times. What can I say? It resonates with me.

In case there’s anyone living under a rock, or in a groundhog burrow, who hasn’t seen the film, the plot centers on a flawed character (Murray) who finds himself stuck in a time loop on Groundhog Day, doomed to repeat the same 24-hour period. He goes through the usual stages of grief, denial, anger, etc., before he realizes the silver lining of his predicament — by changing his own behavior he gradually becomes the master of the rewind cycle, and finally gets it right.

It’s a brilliant conceit. In its own weird way, the film Groundhog Day sheds light on the value of second chances. As a writer I appreciate the process of self-editing that Murray’s character undergoes. When I’m writing, characters sometimes arrive in my mind fully-formed. Other times they come with a lot of unnecessary baggage that does nothing to enrich the story. I’m learning to trust my instincts.

When I first began writing, I was reluctant to eliminate a single word from my precious prose. Now, older, and I hope, a bit wiser, I’ve come to enjoy the process of revision. In writing, as in life, less is sometimes more.

With this in mind, at the beginning of 2016 I decided to republish my 2011 urban fantasy The Goddess of Green Lake under my own imprint. This second edition offered me the chance to eliminate clutter and cut to the chase. It remains the story of a musician whose life gets complicated after he falls for a passionate environmental activist and helps her liberate an orphaned baby otter from a public aquarium. There’s also a bit of Green Man magic and a mermaid backstory which ties in with the underlying “save the oceans” theme.

But in a broader sense, the story is about finding the courage to live your own life, to work your way through the dark times without giving up on the things that matter. Nothing worthwhile comes without effort.

I feel for the groundhog. Any creature that hides from its own shadow doesn’t have much of a chance in this life. But maybe it just takes practice. A little shadow boxing can help you hone your skills before you take on more substantial foes. Carpe diem.