The other day, another blogger cautioned me not to let my blogging get in the way of my Art. She’s got a point there. I reflected on this, and I realized that there have been days when I’ve put more energy into describing my project than I have into the actual project itself. For this reason, I have decided that my earlier decision to try to post “every other day” is unrealistic. I’ll post when I have something to say. We must, after all, remember the wise words of Plato:
The fool speaks because he has to say something. The wise man speaks because he has something to say.
That said, I do have a couple things to say this morning. I may be getting way ahead of myself here, but I worry about my song Children of the Universe being taken out of context. In the musical, the Street Kids are fed up, they’re out in the elements, they have an inkling that they’d rather be “safe” in jail, and they decide to vandalize the homes of the wealthy where their friend, Winston Greene, was born, so they can go join him in jail after his wealthy birth family put him there. It’s a vengeful act, and not an uncommon sentiment among those who feel they’ve been screwed left and right by society. This is how revolutions have been started throughout history.
But once again, I’m a spiritual person, and a morally minded person. Do I myself advocate violent uprising against the bourgeoisie? Actually, no — I do not. I am a man of peace. But I am trying to make a point here. The point I’m trying to make is that if we don’t get a handle on the effects of classism in America, it’s probably going to happen. Many people in the impoverished classes are incredibly frustrated that wealthy people seem at times to view their poverty as a moral failing. They would prefer that people in the privileged classes respect them enough to at least listen to their points of view, and consider that what they have to say might be valid. I am far from wealthy myself, but when I was even more impoverished than I am today, I felt this frustration. I was simply receiving too many lectures from people who thought they knew the answers for me, when in reality they knew nothing about the world of poverty, and I often felt that I had a lot of answers for them. But in general, they wouldn’t listen — and this was a frustration.
This frustration was shared by almost everyone else I knew who was in a similarly impoverished position. Apparently, it was also compounded by the tensions of urban living. This is one reason why I finally made the decision to relocate in a rural area, which is just about the wisest move I’ve ever made in my life. Since then, my wrathful resentment toward those who flaunt their opulence has been reduced to a relatively mild disdain. (We don’t “do” upper crust in this neck of the woods.)
In light of that personal transformation, I would hate to go down as one who advocated violent revolt against the establishment – or against anyone or anything, for that matter. But I wouldn’t mind going down as one who issued a warning that it’s probably about to happen if we don’t shape up.
The second thing I wanted to mention is that I’ve been vigorously working on the second Scene in Act Two and am beginning to see the light at the end of this particularly long and winding tunnel. I have this odd feeling that the next time I put pen to paper, I’m probably not going to stop until the long-awaited moment arrives when I write the words “The End” at the bottom of the document. This time, unlike my earlier efforts at getting this show on the road, I can see the end from the beginning. For that progress, I may thank my Writer’s Guild , my pastor, my Minister of Music, my friends in my current community of Artists and musicians — and all of you. Without the support of other writers and like-minded thinkers, I would never have been able to reach this stage — in fact, I wouldn’t have come near it. So – what I have to say in closing is: