My son and I recently purchased tickets to see the wonderful Canadian performer, Gordon Lightfoot. As a part of the generation that grew into maturity during the 1970’s, Lightfoot (like so many others) became a voice for us, and their song-writing skills reflected what was going on in our culture. Many of the songs were about the protest of the Vietnam War, encouraging peace and love, and pushing the anti-establishment movement. The great anthem, American Pie by Don Mclean, spoke about this shift in the seemingly innocent era of the 1950’s, to the turbulent times of the 1960’s. By the 1970’s, the movement was collapsing into an era of hard living, hard rock and hard drugs. But the singer-song writers continued to speak to us, and produce an amazing catalogue of music, with emphasis on acoustic melody and harmony, and lyrics that were simple and spoke to the heart. From John Denver’s soaring tenor lines to James Taylor’s rhythmic licks, each performer brought their own unique style and vision of the world. I am happy to see my son, who is a Generation X child, embrace the music and enjoy those great, timeless songs from the 1970’s. Once such song, speaking of Gordon Lightfoot, was “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.”, a lengthy tale of a cargo ship that sunk during a storm off of Lake Superior in 1975. The melody is haunting, and the story that Lightfoot weaves with his baritone voice keeps the listener riveted. It became a huge, world-wide success for Lightfoot, and really shed light on an otherwise distant news story. I am sure that for the crew’s families left behind, it was a wonderful way to express their loss and grief and share with the world their loved-ones tragic tale. Without it, perhaps few but those in that industry would have known of the event. Such is the power of music.

As I heard the story of the Fitzgerald, I couldn’t help but draw comparisons to other tragic tales, such as the Titanic. In fact, the Fitz (as she was known) was also dubbed, Titanic of the Great Lakes ! But more than that, I compared her voyage, as I did with the original Titanic, to the seeming “successes” of man. Here were ships (in both cases) that was the pride of their fleet, the best that man could offer. They had unsurpassed luxury for their crew and passengers, top of the line equipment and current technology, and an attitude that dominated man’s greatest accomplishments and success: “full steam ahead!” And, like many of man’s endeavors, the over-confidence of industry over common-sense ends in tragedy with mankind scratching their proverbial heads in wonder, “what just happened?” And perhaps it is more than a lack of common sense, maybe it is putting trust in the flesh, and not a higher power and admitting we aren’t as clever as we think. After all, the inspiration for all of our accomplishments comes from somewhere, or someone greater than ourselves. When man realizes that simple truth, things turn out a bit different.

As I explored the tragedy of the Fitzgerald, I was surprised to find one theory as to her demise. She was a huge ship, 730 feet in length, 75 feet wide, and 39 feet tall. She could carry 26,000 long tons. And she was a record-breaking workhorse, often beating her own milestones. She logged an estimated 748 round trips on the Great Lakes and covered more than a million miles, a distance “roughly equivalent to 44 trips around the world.” In July of 1977, the USCG Marine Casualty Report suggested that the accident was caused by ineffective hatch closures. The report concluded that these devices failed to prevent waves from inundating the cargo hold. The flooding occurred gradually and probably imperceptibly throughout the final day, finally resulting in a fatal loss of buoyancy and stability. As a result, the Fitzgerald plummeted to the bottom without warning. Wow. What a metaphor for mankind. A common adage today is, “don’t sweat the small stuff”. It’s ok to allow gay marriage, it’s just a small minority. Or, it’s ok to legalize marijuana, it only has a small effect. Or, it’s ok to add a little sex to prime time TV, we’re all adults. But allowing small leaks in our culture, or personal lives, to go unnoticed, or worse not caring, than eventually it over takes us, floods us and we are drowning.

Thank you Gordon Lightfoot for taking on this tragic tale and giving us a great song, and for making me think. After all, that was the gift of the singer songwriter, making us think and motivating us through the magic of music.

Salinger
A poem by Donald L. Hughes, 2014

A parallel universe exists in the mind,
Born between two separate lives;
A ghost or a spirit that’s cruel or kind,
That either haunts or motivates, halts or drives.

A man torn between what is and what was,
Destined to suffer the in-between;
Hiding what he thinks, sees, believes and does,
Hoping for both disappearance, and to be seen.

A genius of the written word, a catcher in an open field,
A self-proclaimed protector of youth and innocence;
A Holden, a Glass, and a soldier refusing to yield,
Fighting a world that doesn’t make sense.

He was each of these, yet none of these,
Neither totally alone nor part of the living;
Behind his closed door beyond the field and trees,
He painfully lived without taking, without giving.

Few shared in the simple pleasures he found,
Of laughing and walking, of dancing and viewing;
Each watched him, waiting for something faint or profound,
But each leaving empty, no enlightenment, and no renewing.

Forty years of writing, word by word and page by page,
All hidden up, in the vault of his home, and the one in his mind;
He refused the role of a hero, a mentor, a prophet or sage,
And never gave in to the lime-light, the fame, nor the worldly grind.

Whether a voice to untried youth, or a trigger to unbridled passion,
His words struck a chord and fueled debate;
While so many felt understood, influenced in one form or fashion,
Others felt despair, anger and hate.

It is said that the human mind is complex, neither wrong nor right,
Often an ocean of life and ideas, sometimes a desert hopeless and dry;
Like the writer searching for an anchor, a beacon, or light
To rescue him, deliver him and become his Catcher in the Rye.

The Ultimate Sequel from Hollywood
Written by Donald L Hughes, Fall 2013

Plot: A post-apocalyptic world where the White House is destroyed, and zombies are roaming the country. An evil corporation is in charge of the government, and the lost masses must rely on a few beautiful people to save them and the planet, but not hurt any wildlife or the ocean, and only destroy the inner cities. The police are dispatched, but are totally bumbling idiots and in constant conflict with the FBI over jurisdiction, whom in turn are just as stupid. A secret government agency known as Section 6 is also dispatched to bring down the evil corporation, but their only job seems to be driving a fleet of black SUV’s speedily down the interstate, which has a bridge out, and shooting at and blowing up a semi tractor-trailer with some unknown, highly explosive and flammable substance, and can balance on 9 wheels for several miles. In the mean time, a father-daughter team is on the trail of an anti-virus, but the father is dim witted, slow and old fashioned, and the daughter is super intelligent with computers and knows karate and ninja techniques so she leads her silly dad thru complex mazes and street gangs that dance to see which gang has the best moves. The evil corporation is run by a vampire that needs an ancient relic to survive, and his minions have to fight off werewolves and Section 6 with robots that can turn into every day items and cool cars. The President of the United States, played by Morgan Freeman, is on Air Force One and is being protected by the Secret Service while talking to an MSNBC reporter about the importance of saving the planet, even though no one watches that network. The Washington Times, or Post, or something, is working tirelessly on getting the news out (which really illustrates this is a fiction movie) about the evil corporation and how we need the government to save us. The zombies eat Congress and some radio talk show hosts, and a super-hero team of beautiful people come together to create a time-warp and start the world over with the survivors all wearing robes, and having a picnic in a park in the ruins of San Francisco while feeding the dolphins and singing in perfect harmony.

Cast: Morgan Freeman, George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Sandra Bullock as the brilliant scientist/doctor, Ryan Reynolds, Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow, Angelina Jolie, with Sylvester Stallone, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jean-Claude Van Damme and Steven Seagal as the un-edited zombies.

The Power is in the Steam punk!
Written by Donald L Hughes, 2013

A popular genre today is referred to as “Steam-punk”. It is, I must admit, appealing in its attempt to recreate modern technologies to a more simpler function of steam-power. The retro-fitting gears and gadgets that make up guns, phones and computers are very imaginative, and fun. Even the clothing and hats create a longing for Victorian-era living, when life seamed more adventurous and exciting, with tales of yet-to-be wonders such as submarines, space travel and laser weapons. Even with H.G. Wells and Jules Verne characters far beyond the imagination of their times, there was something even more magic going on at the turn of the 19th century than science fiction, and the anachronistic technologies created in the steampunk world of today helps remind of what it was. The steam-power represents, in many ways, the magic that catapulted our lives into a whole new world, and that momentum hasn’t stopped since.

Take a look at a pot of water placed on a stove-top. We turn on the heat, and slowly the water temperature begins to rise. To 60, 100, 125, 150, 200, and then to 210 degrees! And at 211 we have…..hot water! Pretty boring stuff, but at 211 it will make for cleaner dishes and hands. But then, and only by 1 small degree, something magical happens. The water begins to boil, and soon the pot is moving and hissing and popping. At 212 degrees, steam is created. And steam, as we know, can power a 200,000 pound locomotive. It moved the world from horse-drawn wagons to trains, cutting travel time from weeks to days. It changed hand-made items to factory-built production and it built cities over-night. With steam came the railroad, and with the railroad came infrastructure and growth, mass production and innovation. It was the magic in the air that inspired and motivated Edison, Ford and Rockefeller. And all this, by tuning up the heat only 1 degree.

Today, we see others that are inspired and move us, from Steve Jobs and Bill Gates to robot-maker Dennis Hing and biologist John Rinn. The magic of the steam-era was the passion that the nation builders had for their particular talent, and so it is today. Once imagination takes hold, and a passion begins to fuel it, miracles and life-changing events unfold. If we only upped our passion by 1 degrees, we can realize amazing results.

So, my proverbial top-hat’s off to the makers of “steam punk”, for taking us back to a time when pioneers of industry and invention risked all to create something better, and for reminding us that the magic of steam lies within each of us to realize our dreams and fuel our passions. After all, who ever heard of “luke-warm” power? It’s in the steam, punk.