Big-hearted Folkies

I’m heading off to the Folk Fest tonight (Edmonton); got a weekend pass for the first time in many, many years. In fact at the last time I got the whole package Doc Watson was middle-aged and still touring with his son Merle. Possibly the two greatest flat-pickers of all time. Here’s a taste. And when they teamed up with Bill Monroe or Grisham…well that was grass…Blue Grass at its break-necked shimmering best. docwatson

The way I see it, the world needs more folk festivals. They produce an ameliorating effect on the earth’s ether. They’re not the big solution of course but I bet there would be far fewer wars and less tightfistedness if there were more folk festivals. As fan Mary Pipher put it, bluegrass festivals, country fairs and public libraries are the world’s support system.

Of course Live-8 and the concerts put on by Make-Poverty-History are doing there part, and good on them. But in my experience, Folkies have always been big-hearted people. That’s just the way they are. Something in the music connects them back to terra firma. Something in those musical roots refuses to underestimate the power of one person sharing and giving.

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Ecclesiasticus

Some mornings mercy comes to you in the face of every person you pass. Some days, an infinitely small movement of acknowledgement is all you need. Some days you can be the "great acknowledger".

Some days you glimpse what could be if we all just put down our arms, folded our hands and went for ice cream. On some mornings a stranger’s glance is the most familiar thing. Sometimes beauty is found inside, in that place you forgot to look, and when you do look, you also find all your lost toys and socks.

I wanted to be great once. Wanted to be so many people. Now all I want is to become me. Or at least a better copy of who me is.

There is room for the blues. There is room for Raffi.

There is room for overweight six-foot women with butch-cuts in Canada post uniforms. There is room for grey-haired, tan-suited business men carrying white umbrella’s. There is room for sweat-suited middle-age grandmothers jogging with ipods. There is room for white socks and sandals holding up skinny white legs, an extra-large Kelloggs t-shirt topped off by a tattooed jaw, jet-black mascara and a pompadour. There is room for every kind of child.

There is room for grumpy people as long as we’re not all grumpy at once. There is room for disco, as long we’re not all playing it at once. Room for ecstasy, as long as were not all ecstatic at once. That would be silly.

There is room for accordions. But there is no room for hate.

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Squeegee Kids and Capitalism

There’s a young man wearing a red bandana with a squeegee inserted like a sheathed-sword into the back of his black hoodie. He’s sitting on a concrete planter, 9th and Jasper, waiting.

Red light. With a momentary survey he chooses, makes a dash for a black Sunbird. Running through two lanes of waiting traffic he lunges into his work. Bending the whole of his upper body over the hood he wets and swipes a half dozen times and he’s done. The driver takes his time. Squeegee collects but can’t get to another car before the light changes.

The first time I was squeegeed I was waiting for a green on Douglas in downtown Victoria, B.C. I hadn’t seen him coming. Next thing I’m staring through my windshield at a grinning, maniacal, patchy-bearded kid who in an instant becomes blurry and wet and then clear again. Quick as that, he’s at my side window. Regaining myself, I fish and find some coins and he’s gone. I drive away amazed at the speed and relatively good job done on the glass.

Five or six years ago Ontario decided "squeegee kids" were an epidemic and outlawed them with their "Safe Streets Act". In 2003 Vancouver floated similar legislation but it failed to pass. In Edmonton we handle our "squeegee problem" differently. We give them tickets, jaywalking, mischief, etc.

Of course the squeegeers have often been their own worst enemy. Over-congregating, over-aggressive and so on. But then our solution to their "overly" is always our own form of over-reaction.

We might want to view our knee-jerk in light of a report by Prof. O’Grady, from the Department of Sociology and Anthropology at the University of Guelph. At the time of the Ontario legislation, O’Grady surveyed more than 100 squeegee kids in Toronto. He found that they are less likely to use drugs and commit crimes. Less likely to sell drugs, break into cars or buildings, shoplift or engage in violent behavior than other street kids. They also have a better mental outlook than other street youth whereas non-squeegee street youth reported considerably higher levels of depression.

Street Mission workers know about this. Any kind of creative and productive activity engenders a sense of self and a sense of self-value. And this can only contribute to a healthier outlook. That’s also why at the Mission I work for, we are moving toward giving those we serve and care for more opportunities to give back; especially to those who are in our addiction programs.

Now, regarding the "squeegee kid" I saw this morning, just because he doesn’t fit our style of capitalism doesn’t mean we should outlaw him. Perhaps in fact, the presence of this "squeegee kid" shows the poverty of our Capitalism.

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Nuclear Threat – Remembering Hiroshima

Today’s Edmonton Journal guest columnist, reminds us in a poignant, powerful, and painful way, of a time and a day we forget at our peril. Thank you Connie Howard for recalling both our complicity in this atrocity, should we stay silent, and our collective hope, when we actively remember.

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