http://www.counterpunch.org/jacobs11192007.html
Sitting on the Group W Bench
November 19, 2007
By RON JACOBS
I first heard "Alice's Restaurant" in 1968 on Washington DC's
underground radio station WHFS. The most memorable time I heard it
was in May 1970 on the day after the military murders at Kent State
when a friend read it in homeroom at the junior high I attended in
Frankfurt, Germany. The song's innocence and hope echo today in the
empty chambers of our empty culture where the current antiwar
movement has yet to find an anthem. For those who don't know this
song by Arlo Guthrie, it is the story of a littering arrest that
becomes a humorous yet pointed diatribe against the culture of war
and conformity. The littering arrest itself took place on
Thanksgiving Day in 1965 and the draft was in full swing-filling the
growing demands of the war machine and its war of the day.
Guthrie's song was part of a general distrust of authority making its
way back into white America after a post World War Two hiatus. It was
more than distrust actually. In fact, it was turning quickly into a
refusal to go along with said authority. For the most part, this
sentiment was most profoundly felt and expressed by the young via
their music, culture and politics. In a story told several times over
and with an equal number of twists, the youth counterculture of the
time was a culture of opposition. Sometimes that opposition took the
form of protests and direct action against authority and sometimes it
wore the costume of color and danced to music enhanced by sex and
drugs. As naïve as its audience and as jaded as its target, Arlo
Guthrie's "Alice's Restaurant Massacree" combined all of the
counterculture's aspects into a tale of disgust with the corporate
status quo, opposition to its desire to classify us all and throw us
into war, and some good ol' fun.
What can be more traditional than Thanksgiving, after all? Despite
its negative historical connotations in that it celebrates the
beginning of the Europeans' ethnic cleansing of the American
continent's indigenous peoples, most folks in the United States
celebrate it. It's not that they are celebrating their ancestors'
massacre of the native peoples; it's that they see it as a time to
gather with friends and family and have a good time. Even the
homeless shelters take on a bit of a festive air this Thursday in
November as merchants and individuals contribute time and money to
preparing a traditional Thanksgiving meal for the residents of those
often quite dismal places of refuge. Of course, the next day there is
no more turkey and stuffing on the table and those without permanent
shelter are still without a home. The wealthy, meanwhile, scrape
several days worth of poor folks' Thanksgiving dinners into their
garbage disposals.
The second part of Arlo's song takes place at the draft induction
center formerly located on Whitehall Street in Manhattan, New York.
He has received his draft notice and is reporting for the physical
and mental exam that was given every inductee before he had his locks
shorn and went off to boot camp and a life of military. After going
through a number of tests, which are related quite hilariously by
Guthrie, he is finally at the last station on his induction, where he
is asked, "Have you ever been arrested?" This question naturally
brings up Guthrie's entire tale of his Thanksgiving arrest for
littering in Massachusetts and the entire trial following the arrest.
Because of his arrest, he is sent to the Group W bench with all the
other "criminals." There he is given another form that ends with the
question: "Have you rehabilitated yourself?" I'll let Arlo tell the
rest of the story ...
I went over to the sargeant, and I said, "Sargeant, you got a lot a
damn gall to ask me if I've rehabilitated myself, I mean, (with added
emphasis and a sneer)
I mean, I mean that just, I'm sittin' here on the bench,
I mean I'm sittin here on the Group W bench 'cause you want to know
if I'm moral enough to join the army, burn women, kids, houses and
villages after bein' a litterbug."
Guthrie is not drafted because of his record. And his Thanksgivings
will never be the same. Neither should ours, even if George Bush
shows up for a photo op in Baghdad with a plastic turkey and a couple
dozen unarmed handpicked-for-their-loyalty troops. There are
thousands of other troops who have deserted because they don't want
to go back to Iraq. Protesters have been arrested in Olympia and
Tacoma, WA. For blocking military shipments. It's time that those who
oppose these dirty little wars join their fellow antiwarriors in the
Pacific Northwest on today's Group W bench. Who knows, we might start
a movement.
Watch it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_7C0QGkiVo
---
Ron Jacobs is author of The Way the Wind Blew: a history of the
Weather Underground, which is just republished by Verso. Jacobs'
essay on Big Bill Broonzy is featured in CounterPunch's collection on
music, art and sex, Serpents in the Garden. His first novel, Short
Order Frame Up, is published by Mainstay Press. He can be reached at:
rjacobs3625@charter.net
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