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Tag Archives: Thanksgiving

Practical Man often says I was born in the wrong time–that I should have been a hippy.  Maybe he’s right.  Case in point:

  • I love Volkswagen anything (as long as it’s pre-1980).
  • I have a tendency to decorate everything that doesn’t move (and even some things that do) with bohemian prints.
  • 95% of the guitar music I play is 60s and 70s folk.

I would have liked being a hippy, I think.  Except for the straight hair and no bangs thing.

Let’s just say that I have forehead issues.

So, I can’t truly be a hippie, now can I?  First of all, I can’t even spell it. And I’m sure that hippies were more about peace, love and all that good stuff and not so much about the forehead vanity.

I know I should be thinking about pilgrims and injustices perpetrated on aboriginal peoples and green bean casseroles, but at this time of year, I can’t help it.  I think about the dump and VW microbuses and a strange and mythical place called the Group W Bench.

Doesn’t everyone?

It all started 32 Thanksgivings ago, when my dad introduced me to Arlo Guthrie’s iconic Vietnam protest song, “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree“.

I learned to love it–and now, I’m learning to play it on the gi-tar–with feeling.

So far, I’m pretty terrible but, in my defence, I’m a lot older than Arlo was when he first came up with the concept of an 18 minute and 34 second song.

18 minutes!!

My fingers, not to mention my will, are weak.

What can I say, I’ve been wasting my life, obsessing about my forehead.

But, I can play the chorus:

Alice's Restaurant chorus - musical score

 

I’m pretty sure I can’t sustain it for 5 minutes though, let alone 18 minutes +.

The point is, I’ve also been inflicting Alice’s Restaurant on as many people as possible, since I first fell in love with it as a teenager:

  • In 1996 (after I was old enough to know better), a friend and I attempted to write the lyrics (all 18 minutes and 34 performance seconds of them) in black magic marker on his bathroom walls.
  • I met my friend, Bamboo Guy, partly because we bonded over the fact that he lived in a church, just like Alice and Ray and Potcho The Dog, from the song.
  • My dad and I saw it live in 2005 during the Alice’s Restaurant 40th anniversary tour.

And, I’m not alone in my quasi-obsession.  My uncle Putt reportedly played and sang Alice’s Restaurant to countless Inuit listeners, while he was working in the Canadian North in the early ’70s.   He and my aunt recently gifted me with something I’d never seen before:

The Alice’s Restaurant book!

Alice's Restaurant book - cover

It doesn’t have “27 8×10 color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was, to be used as evidence against us”, but, it does have groovy sketches.

VW Bus

VW Bus with shovels and rakes and implements of destruction

Soooo very groovy.  I wish I could show them all to you!

Yep, as many of our southern neighbours are sitting down this weekend to what we up north call “American Thanksgiving”, I can’t help thinking of Alice and her restaurant and how one young guy took his peaceful protest on the road, way back when.

Protests go so much better with a gi-tar, don’t you think?

Go and sit on the group W bench

Although the Vietnam War and Alice’s Restaurant came about before I was born, I feel as though the past couple of weeks may have felt a little bit similar to what things felt like back then.

Kinda tense.

People feeling strong feelings.

Neighbours worried about neighbours.  Or, angry at neighbours.  Or, bewildered by neighbours.  Or, disappointed by neighbours.

Something about neighbours.

Kinda tense, as I said.

But, that’s not what this blog post is about.

This blog post is about giving thanks.

That’s why I called the post, “And now, for a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn’t be beat.”

Thanks–to Arlo (may I call you Arlo?), for showing me that we could believe in something and deliver a message to people in a way that made them smile, while also making them think.

Thanks–to my dad, for sharing Arlo with me and Uncle Putt for giving me his long-treasured book. Thanks–to Practical Man for driving all the way to Stockbridge, Massachussets to visit “the scene of the crime” and for listening to me squeal my way around the countryside that led to The Church.  Thanks–to Fairy Godson’s parents, who went to the ACTUAL Alice’s garage sale (accidentally) on Cape Cod and got to talk with ACTUAL Alice and then they brought me back a Christmas ornament from ACTUAL Alice’s garage sale that ACTUAL Alice used to have in her living room on her Christmas tree!

Thanks– to Arlo again, for being a role model in the never-ending sentences and segues that have become his (and, okay, you may have a point here:  MY) trademark style.

And, if you’re celebrating this week, I hope you have a “Thanksgiving dinner that couldn’t be beat” and I also hope you walk into the shrink wherever you are,

Just walk in and say, “Shrink,

You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant”

and walk out.

Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago, that's two years ago on Thanksgiving, when my friend and I went up to visit Alice at the Restaurant

If one person, you know just one person does it, they may think she’s really weird and they won’t pay attention.

But if two people do it…in harmony, they may think they’re both Canadians and they won’t pay attention to either of them.

And if three people do it…can you imagine three people walkin’ in, singin’ a bar of Alice’s Restaurant and walkin’ out?   They may think it’s an organization!

And, can you imagine fifty people a day? I said FIFTY people a day…walkin’ in, singin’ a bar of Alice’s Restaurant and walkin’ out?

Friends, they may think it’s a MOVEMENT.

And, that’s what it is.

The Alice’s Restaurant Anti-Massacree Movement and all you gotta do to join is to sing it the next time it comes around on the gi-tar.

With feelin’.

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