Context Matters
Another look at the ‘Sound and Fury’ essay, plus other updates
This past weekend, I received an email from an acquaintance who unsubscribed to “Our Reality Show.” The acquaintance, who I knew in school growing up and haven’t seen in person since, took issue with my recent “Sound and Fury” essay on post-9/11 country music.
“I knew you were liberal,” the person wrote, “but I never thought you were unpatriotic until now. How could you write such a thing?”
The essay pointed to the jingoism found in a number of popular country songs in the days following the 2001 attack. For me, songs like Toby Ketih’s “Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (The Angry American)” served as seeds for the current social and cultural divide that exists in many communities across this country today.
I decided not to respond to the email. If I’ve learned anything over the past half century plus, it’s getting into a pissing match over faith or patriotism never ends well. However, I do think the spark for the essay is a story worth telling as a means of explanation.
Sound and Fury
Last week, I went to Chicago to see our son in “Illinoise,” a new musical drawn from Sufjan Stevens’ 2005 album. The show is not a standard theatre experience; none of the 12 actors on stage speak. Instead, the 90-minute story is told through movement and the three vocalists leading the 14…
Earlier this month, I was on my way back from Chicago, having seen our son in the new musical “Illinoise,” based on Sufjan Stevens’ album. (More on that below.) It had been a week of music and photography. Getting on the plane, I learned that Keith had died following a two-year battle with stomach cancer; on the return trip, I saw that Mojo Nixon had passed away.
After getting off the plane, I was in Terminal A at Reagan National Airport waiting for my luggage. The terminal, part of the original and since greatly expanded facility, is small. Picking up your bags there always is a pain.
A young man — probably in his late 20s (who knows anymore?) — was trying to herd the cats to the correct baggage pickup point. Somehow, the communication wires had gotten crossed and the bags that were supposed to go to baggage claim #1 instead went to baggage claim #2, even though the notification on #1 hadn’t been changed to reflect that.
The airport worker — think Dr. Sheldon Cooper or Kevin “Remain Calm!” Bacon from “Animal House” — made the mistake of speaking loudly into the face of a tall, shaved head, tattooed, bodybuilder middle-aged white guy. The passenger, who was wearing a Jason Aldean T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, was none too amused. He then yelled at the worker, accusing him of incompetence and tossing in a couple of F-bombs for good measure before storming off “to find your supervisor!”
It was unprovoked, ugly, and frankly, a little terrifying, although most of the people chose to ignore what had just happened because it didn’t escalate further. And while you wish it was just an isolated incident, the political and culture wars tearing at our country prove it isn’t.
Perhaps that bit of context would have helped the reader understand why I embarked on the essay. Perhaps including it would have been a cheap shot; I’ve never met the man and I drew a conclusion based on his appearance and actions alone. Then again, we live in a world where image seems to be more important than facts and discourse do these days, and it did force me to reflect and write.
What do you think?
‘Illinoise’
Here are production photos featuring Ben and Gaby in “Illinoise” that were taken by Liz Lauren during the run at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater. The show now moves to the Park Avenue Armory — an Off-Broadway house — with performances starting this weekend through March 26. Jill and I are going to see it again — along with a show that Emma and Colby are performing in the next evening — toward the end of the run. Who knows what will happen next?
Future Projects/Housekeeping
I took advantage of some downtime during January and February to finish two long-term projects here on Substack — reporting on Brown v. Board of Education and the Mountain Stage oral history. But my plan — to the relief of some of you, I’m sure — is to publish less here in the coming weeks.
Here’s why:
• After a slow (S-L-O-W) start to 2024 on the business front, things are picking back up again. I’m continuing the “52 Weeks” series on Saturdays (thank you for your participation and feedback) but things likely will be less consistent on the writing front.
• That said, I do have a couple of music and family-related essays in the works. I also would like to start using this space for more photo themed essays with shorter narratives, like the Chicago essay here.
• Finally, I’m working on my first photo book — one that looks back at the first year of the pandemic. During that period, I walked more than 3,000 miles in and around Alexandria, Va., and took two short trips each to Washington, D.C., and New York to chronicle that unsettled time. Thanks to the help of friends — several of them fellow Substack writers — and professional colleagues, I hope to get it published in time for the fifth anniversary.
Yes, 2025 will be five (!) years since Covid invaded our country. Isn’t that amazing?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting “Our Reality Show.”
Unfortunately, not just an American problem. It’s happening here in Canada too.
As someone that works in an airport, I can say that this is becoming more and more common, and it takes less and less to set people off. We're a nation always on edge, always twitching, and always "looking for a reason."