Winter Music

 

California Dreaming

“All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey.

I’ve been for a walk on a winter’s day.

I’d be safe and warm if I was in L.A.

California dreaming, on such a winter’s day…”

Mamas and Papas (“California Dreaming,” John and Michelle Phillips, song writers.)

          This song was playing in my head upon waking this morning. Here, the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey with rain. The Mamas and Papas’ song, recorded such a long time ago (1965), defined the times in many ways. It now seems like a lost era of innocence, and yet we were at war then and just as ruptured as a society as we are today. When I was reading the lyrics online, people had asked questions like “what is the meaning of the brown leaves?” and “what was the setting for California Dreaming?” The response: "well, obviously, fall, you know, when the leaves turn brown and fall down,” and “the song writers were in NYC, yearning for the sunny skies of CA.” Nowadays, we are always looking for inuendo and underlying conspiracy theories—paranoid, if possible. Besides, who ever thought they were safe in L.A.?

          Winter’s dark skies and wet, grey days help us to go inside and contemplate such things. And perhaps this is one year in which contemplation is exceptionally important. I just read David Brooks article in the Atlantic Magazine titled: “The Terrifying Future of the American Right,” in which he reports some of the events at the National Conservative Conference in Florida this month. I had to read it twice to grasp the fact that both uber-liberals and uber-conservatives believe that the other is out to destroy the country and set up a totalitarian regime. How can it be that they both entertain the same apocalyptic view of each other, and yet cannot see it in themselves?

          I keep thinking that some wise overlord is going to suddenly appear to sort this all out and let us know what we need to do to get back to “normal.”  But it is increasingly clear that what we called “normal” was not, and that there is no “getting back to” in sight. We are only going forward into this strange new world without a wise overlord of any sort. Let’s all turn on our flashlights and hold hands. We can do this if we stick together. Cue the spooky music.

                                                  In the Spirit,

                                                  Jane