A trip to the promised land

There’s nothing we Americans like better than a good road trip – you know, gas up the Impala, stop at Safeway for some Calamine lotion and a Texaco road map, throw the kids in the back with some DC comics and a few bags of Chee-tos and off we go. (Well, that’s what we used to do…)

But wait, let’s not forget the most important ingredient of all… yes, let’s get that AM radio tuned in and cranked up! After all, what’s a road trip without some groovy sounds coming over the air waves? That’s half the fun, you know, searching through the static and zeroing in on the best station when you’re in the middle of a Kansas wheatfield or a Mojave salt pan. 
 

Hey, why don’t we take a short tour of the great USA right now, in the comfort of our own little computers?  

First stop is New York City, or rather, “uptown” Manhattan. Phil Spector produced this mini-masterpiece in 1962, in which the Crystals tell the story of a young man abused and neglected “downtown” but treated like a king in his ghetto home up north. The castanets and flamenco-esque guitar (clever, Phil!) make it clear that the “uptown” in question is Spanish Harlem. And it’s surely no coincidence that West Side Story was a box-office smash that same year.

He gets up each morning and he goes downtown / Where everyone's his boss and he's lost in an angry land / He's a little man / But then he comes uptown  each evenin' to my tenement / Uptown where folks don't have to pay much rent / And when he's there with me he can see that he's everything / Then he's tall, he don't crawl / He's a king / Downtown he's just one of a million guys / He don't get no breaks and he takes all they got to give / 'Cause he's got to live / But then he comes uptown where he can hold his head up high / Uptown he knows that I'll be standing by / And when I take his hand, there's no man who could put him down / The world is sweet, it's at his feet when he's uptown / Whoah-oh oh-oh, oh oh oh...

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Feels good to be on the road, doesn’t it? Heading south on I-81, we cross the Mason-Dixon line and before you know it we’re in Georgia (where Jimmie Rodgers tells us the water “tastes like turpentine”, but no matter…). The Peach State has given us the likes of James Brown, Little Richard and this great genius, singing what is now Georgia’s official state anthem. It’s quite a syrupy, sentimental thing, but it’s interesting to note that nobody (Willie Nelson included) could possibly sing it without sounding at least a bit like Ray!  

Georgia, Georgia / The whole day through / Just an old sweet song / Keeps Georgia on my mind / I say Georgia, Georgia / A song of you / Comes as sweet and clear / As moonlight through the pines / Other arms reach out to me / Other eyes smile tenderly / Still in peaceful dreams I see / The road leads back to you / I said Georgia, Georgia / No peace I find / Just an old sweet song / Keeps Georgia on my mind

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The smell of honeysuckle and magnolia is getting stronger now as we roll into New Orleans, “the land of dreams, the best doggone place I have ever seen”. This is where it all collided and the reverberations from that musical Big Bang will never die. Louis Jordan, Fats Domino, Lloyd Price, Irma Thomas, James Booker, Allen Toussaint… the list of greats goes on and on and on. But the emblematic New Orleans song would have to be this one, by the inimitable Professor Longhair.

When you go to New Orleans / You oughta go see the Mardi Gras / If you go to New Orleans / You oughta go see the Mardi Gras / When you see the Mardi Gras / Somebody'll tell you what's carnival for / Get your ticket in your hand / You oughta go to New Orleans / Get your ticket in your hand / You oughta go to New Orleans / You know, when you get to New Orleans / Somebody'll show you the Zulu King / You will see the Zulu King / Down on St. Claude and Dumaine / You'll see the Zulu King/ Down on St. Claude and Dumaine / If you stay right there / I'm sure you'll see the Zulu Queen

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If you really were driving across the US in the late 60s/early 70s, at some point you would have heard this ode to the town of Muskogee, Oklahoma, which I imagine was Merle Haggard’s biggest-ever hit. No offense to Merle, a great singer who wrote some brilliant songs (“I Am A Lonesome Fugitive”, for example), but this one is downright weird, as well as a cheap attempt to appeal to anti-hippie reactionaries during the Vietnam War. Thanks to YouTube, here's an exciting video performance of Merle’s classic!  

We don't smoke marijuana in Muskogee / We don't take our trips on LSD / We don't burn our draft cards down on Main Street / We like livin' right and bein' free / We don't make a party out of lovin' / We like holdin' hands and pitchin' woo / We don't let our hair grow long and shaggy / Like the hippies out in San Francisco do / I'm proud to be an Okie from Muskogee / A place where even squares can have a ball / We still wave Old Glory down at the courthouse / and white lightnin's still the biggest thrill of all / Leather boots are still in style for manly footwear / Beads and Roman sandals won't be seen / Football's still the roughest thing on campus / And the kids here still respect the college dean / I'm proud... (etc.) 

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I hate to skip over the riches of Texas when it comes to music – after all, it gave us Buddy Holly, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Doug Sahm, Freddie King, Barbara Lynn, Patsy Cline, Bobby Fuller and Stevie Ray Vaughan. But we gotta get movin’ if we wanna make it to the promised land! So in Oklahoma City, let’s get on the mythical highway that’ll take us all the way there. I’m talking about Route 66, of course. Back in the 1930s, this really was the road to the promised land, for thousands of Dust Bowl refugees (read The Grapes of Wrath!). And, even though it doesn’t exist anymore, you can still buy a T-shirt that says you were there! There are many recordings of this tune, but I’ll have to go with Nat King Cole’s.

If you ever plan to motor west / Travel my way, take the highway that's the best / Get your kicks on Route 66 / It winds from Chicago to LA / More than two thousand miles all the way / Get your kicks on Route 66 / Now you go through St. Louis; Joplin, Missouri / And Oklahoma City looks mighty pretty / You'll see Amarillo; Galllup, New Mexico / Flagstaff, Arizona; don't forget Winona / Kingman, Barstow, San Bernardino / Won't you get hip to this timely tip / When you make that California trip / Get your kicks on Route 66

 

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Well, our tires are wearing thin and that fan belt’s about to go any second now, but we made it and…you know what?? The streets really are paved with gold!! So right now I’m going to dig up one of those shiny bricks and trade in this old heap for something classier, with a personalized “MAGIC BOB” license plate…

There’s no shortage of songs about California, of course, but I’m going to pass right over the Beach Boys and the Mamas & the Papas and put on the one that most poetically captures the California dream, that timeless enterprise of getting to the edge of the world and just sitting there, wondering “what now?”

 
Otis wrote it, and sang it like only he could. Feel free to whistle along!

And here’s a bonus track for y’all:

Magic Bob