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Okla-homey
7/14/2007, 05:56 AM
July 14, 1912 Woody Guthrie is born in Okfuskee County

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On this day 95 years ago, folk singer Woody Guthrie, writer of the American folk music classic "This Land is Your Land." is born in Okemah, Oklahoma. (As an side, Woody was born within a couple miles, and the very same year as your correspondent's maternal grandmother.)

Woodrow Wilson Guthrie lived and wrote of the real West, a place of hard-working people and harsh environments rather than romantic cowboys and explorers. Though he was a son of a successful politician and businessman, during his early teens his mother fell ill and the family split apart.

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Guthrie's birthplace in Okemah photographed in 1979. I have no idea if it still stands.

For several years, Guthrie spent his summers working as a migrant agricultural laborer. When he was 15, he left home to travel the country by freight train. Among his meager possessions were a guitar and harmonica. Guthrie discovered an eager audience among the hobos and migrant workers for the country-folk songs he had learned in Oklahoma.

In 1937, he traveled to California where he hoped to become a successful western singer. He appeared on several West Coast radio shows, mostly performing traditional folk songs. Soon, though, he began to perform his own pieces based on his experiences living among the vast armies of the poor and dispossessed created by the Great Depression.

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While in California he also came into contact with socialists and became increasingly sympathetic to their causes. Many of his songs reflected a strong commitment to the common working people, and he became something of a musical spokesman for populist sentiments.

It should be noted that Oklahoma was a veritable hotbed of American populism since its earliest history. By 1920, the thirteen year old state contained the highest per capita ratio of populists in the United States. Thus, Guthrie was in this way, a fairly typical rural Oklahoman of the period.

Ellen Rosen, in her book "Socialism in Oklahoma: A Theoretical Overview." contends Oklahoma farmers turned to populism as a way of gaining control of the land, although they rejected collectivization espoused under outright socialism.

The magnum opus on western populism came in 1931 with John D. Hick's "The Populist Revolt." Writing as the nation sank into the Great Depression, Hicks emphasized economic pragmatism over ideals and presented Populism as "interest group politics," with "have-nots" demanding their fair share of the nation's bounty.

Hicks argued that financial manipulations, deflation, high interest rates, mortgage foreclosures, unfair railroad practices, and a high protective tariff unjustly impoverished farmers. Corruption accounted for such outrages and Populists presented popular control of government as the solution. Woody Guthrie set these ideas to music.

At its heart, Okie populists and even those Okies who subsequently embraced socialism were patriotic Americans who eschewed state ownership of land, but wanted an alternative to "might makes right" and the unfettered political power of the wealthy in OUr state.

As an aside, Thomas P. Gore (for whom the town of Gore OK is named) served as a Senator from Oklahoma from 1907 to 1921 and from 1931 to 1937. As a progressive Democrat with a Populist past, Gore advocated Federal assistance for rural areas even before World War I, one the earliest American politicians to do so.

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Senator Thomas P. Gore of Oklahoma, in his Washington office, c.1933. The Populist senator was the grandfather of prominent American novelist Gore Vidal. A Mississippian by birth, Senator Gore had traveled west as a young man and helped found the State of Oklahoma. Incidentally, Senator Gore was completely blind having suffered a childhood accident that robbed him of his sight

Guthrie's most famous composition"This Land is Your Land," reflected not only Guthrie's support for the common folk, but also his deep love for his country. The verse celebrated the beauty and grandeur of America while the chorus drove home the populist sentiment that the nation belonged to all the people, not merely the rich and powerful.

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Probably the most famous of his more than 1,000 songs, "This Land is Your Land" was also one of his last. Later that year Guthrie moved to New York where his career was soon after interrupted by World War II. After serving in the US Merchant Marine, he returned to New York, where he continued to perform and record his old material, but he never matched his earlier prolific output.

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Guthrie's career was cut short in 1954, when he was struck with Huntington's Disease, a degenerative illness of the nervous system that had killed his mother. His later years were spent in a New York hospital where he received visitors like the adoring young Bob Dylan, who copied much of his early style from Guthrie.

Guthrie died in 1967, having lived long enough to see his music inspire a whole new generation and "This Land is Your Land" become a rallying song for the Civil Rights movement. Everyone has heard the first several verses, but the last two are pretty "edgy" and aren't sung much anymore.

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THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND
words and music by Woody Guthrie

Chorus:
This land is your land, this land is my land
From California, to the New York Island
From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me

As I was walking a ribbon of highway
I saw above me an endless skyway
I saw below me a golden valley
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

I've roamed and rambled and I've followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
And all around me a voice was sounding
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

The sun comes shining as I was strolling
The wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling
The fog was lifting a voice come chanting
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

As I was walkin' - I saw a sign there
And that sign said - no tress passin'
But on the other side .... it didn't say nothin!
Now that side was made for you and me!

Chorus

In the squares of the city - In the shadow of the steeple
Near the relief office - I see my people
And some are grumblin' and some are wonderin'
If this land's still made for you and me.

Chorus (2x)

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They have a Woody Guthrie Folk Music Festival in Okemah each summer. It's going on now.
Check it out:
http://www.woodyguthrie.com/

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swardboy
7/14/2007, 06:32 AM
Thanks again Homey for good stuff! You know, the older I get, the less "way back there" historical characters and events seem to be. Guthrie and his times are really recent in our country's time line. The 20th century in America saw so much political, economic, and military upheaval that it's amazing we got through it and became stronger as a nation. And from the 1850's to the 1950's we went through a civil war, WWI, WWII, the Korean conflict, and somewhere in there Teddy Roosevelt's Rough Riders were charging up San Juan Hill. I hope that means there's always hope for America, the home of the brave and the land of the free.

King Crimson
7/14/2007, 06:39 AM
there's a great "spoken word" tribute to Woody on the first Bob Dylan bootleg series. it's really fantastic.

King Crimson
7/14/2007, 06:46 AM
http://www.bobdylan.com/songs/guthrie.html

though, you really got to hear it. it's a young Dylan. "at the Grand Canyon, at sundown."


"lyrics":


When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
And it's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking
In this air I'm inhaling
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin'
In the words that I'm thinkin'
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart pound
But then again you know why they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes creeping
And you fear that they might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's something special you're needin'
And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding
And you need something special
Yeah, you need something special all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at yer looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many
Times you might get kicked
You need something special all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve

But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you know it too good
"Cause you look an' you start getting the chills

"Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks it's funny
No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
That no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache´
And inside it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer back
My friend
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're foolin' you
The ones who jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of money and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like that
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty
THAT STUFF AIN'T REAL"

No but that ain't yer game, it ain't even yer race
You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that yer seekin'
Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'
Where do you look for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for this candle that's glowin'
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist
And turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital
You'll find God in the church of your choice
You'll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital

And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In the Grand Canyon
At sundown


Copyright © 1973 Special Rider Music

Columbia Records

Sooner24
7/14/2007, 06:49 AM
I know a lady, that her and her family, pretty much started the festival years ago, but have not talked to her in several years. She used to bring pictures of Arlo Guthire, and all the entertainers that appear at the festival, to work with her, of them all sitting in her living room.

King Crimson
7/14/2007, 07:13 AM
to call Woody a "troubadour" is to neutralize what he really was. he was not a benign political force.

Jerk
7/14/2007, 09:16 AM
he was not a benign political force.

Understatement of the year.

Given that the Communists are responsible for somewhere between 65 and 93 million deaths, who could then claim that anyone who espoused their beliefs was benign? They are a cancer on the human race, individual rights, and personal liberty.

And Guthrie was one of them.

People should view it as no different than being a Nazi.

Okla-homey
7/14/2007, 09:38 AM
Understatement of the year.

Given that the Communists are responsible for somewhere between 65 and 93 million deaths, who could then claim that anyone who espoused their beliefs was benign? They are a cancer on the human race, individual rights, and personal liberty.

And Guthrie was one of them.

People should view it as no different than being a Nazi.

I think you may be putting too fine a point on it Jerk.

I think he was probably a socialist, although there is no evidence he was a card-carrying member.

That said, have you ever read Steinbeck's greatest novel, The Grapes of Wrath? I gotta tell you, growing up among folks who had to do the Tom Joad Quickstep to California in order to eat, and suffered rank and patent discrimination while there, I figure ol' Woody was just putting to music what a lot of Okies believed in their hearts at the time.

Also, as an aside, that California experience my grandparents, uncles and aunts lived is what makes me somewhat sympathetic to the plight of these pathetic illegal migrants working that keep our agricultural economy going.

critical_phil
7/14/2007, 09:57 AM
Guthrie's career was cut short in 1954, when he was struck with Huntington's Disease....




he was struck with Huntington's Disease sometime around October, 1911.

Jerk
7/14/2007, 09:58 AM
It just so happens I was reading the Rock and Roll of fame bio on Woodie Guthrie (inducted 1988) and you are right...he was not a member of the communist party. He tried to join, but was rejected because he would not renounce religion. He did write columns for Communist newspapers, appear at their events, etc. As to whether or not the Great Depression can lead a person down this path: I agree, it can. I'll never forget the stories from my grandmother about how hard those times were. So maybe I'm a little too hard on the guy. But you know, I just have a horrible reaction to anything 'communist.' It's like when a kid who is alergic to peanuts eats a can of Peter Pan®.

I just can't stand them.

SoonerStormchaser
7/14/2007, 10:51 AM
This land is my land...this land ain't your land...I have a shotgun...and you don't have one...

Okla-homey
7/14/2007, 04:39 PM
It just so happens I was reading the Rock and Roll of fame bio on Woodie Guthrie (inducted 1988) and you are right...he was not a member of the communist party. He tried to join, but was rejected because he would not renounce religion. He did write columns for Communist newspapers, appear at their events, etc. As to whether or not the Great Depression can lead a person down this path: I agree, it can. I'll never forget the stories from my grandmother about how hard those times were. So maybe I'm a little too hard on the guy. But you know, I just have a horrible reaction to anything 'communist.' It's like when a kid who is alergic to peanuts eats a can of Peter PanŽ.

I just can't stand them.

Then we are in agreement. Socialistic tendencies, under the circumstances, can be tolerated. However, had he been a godless communist (or any sort of athiest for that matter) we would have to kick him to the curb with the rest of the heathen trash. I'm down with that.;)

Miko
7/15/2007, 08:20 PM
This thread is bound for glory :D

Miko
7/15/2007, 08:22 PM
"...it reminds me of something Woodie Guthrie
once said in 1945 : I hate a song that makes you feel like you're no good,
I hate a song that makes you feel like you're born to lose, makes you feel
like you're bound to lose.. Makes you feel lke you're no-body and you're
no good to nobody. You're too thin or you're too fat, you're too old or
you're too young, you're too this or you're too that..-The Alarm 1988

TAFBSooner
7/16/2007, 11:13 PM
I ain't necessarily a communist. But I've been in the red all my life. -- Woody Guthrie

StoopTroup
7/16/2007, 11:26 PM
People who survive tough times are the symbol of our State IMO...

Guthrie was one of those folks.

I'm sure mental illness drove him to the Communist Party. :D