In another thread, I mentioned that Mr. Rilch and I brought the DVD of “A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving” to my parents’ house for T-day. People seemed amenable to watching it, but it never ended up happening. I expressed some frustration in the other thread, but I take it back, because I just now remembered that my sister was similiarly disappointed.
When she arrived, she triumphantly displayed a CD of “Alice’s Restaurant”. For those who don’t know, it’s a spoken-word album by Arlo Guthrie. (It was also the basis for a movie, but I haven’t seen that.) “Omigod!” I shrieked. “I can’t believe I didn’t bring that!” My cousins had no clue, however. My parents and Mr. Rilch did, but only because they’ve been subjected to it by one or the other of us on previous Thanksgivings. Friend was also clueless, when I mentioned it to him.
What the heck happened? Why is this not more of a tradition? Are we really the only ones who remember it? Jeeeeeez…
“…and they took twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was…”
“…it was a typical case of American blind justice, and the judge wasn’t ever gonna look at those 27 eight-by-ten colour glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was.”
“Your honor, I cannot tell a lie. I put that envelope at the bottom of that pile of garbage. . .But that’s not what I came here to tell you about”
When I was about 16, my best friend’s oldest brother handed us the LP, and said “Listen to this. You’ll like it” I suppose he thought that cuz we were always listening to Monty Python and cracking up. He was right, we loved it!
Blood and guts and veins in my teeth (eat burnt, dead bodies) …
Back in the day, when I was in college the first time around, an older student made a tape for me of nothing but 60s tunes, most of which I hadn’t heard of before. One of them - taking up much of one side of the tape - was “The Alice’s Restaurant Masacree,” both parts.
In the Philly area, it’s a traditional play on one of the local radio stations on Thanksgiving.
It’s also traditional play around here. Heard it a couple of times last Thursday.
Of course, there is a drawback, as I tend to use the phrase “27 8 x 10 glossy photos, with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one descibing what each one was”, into every convesation I can.
. . . he said, “What’d ya get?” And I said, “I didn’t get nothin’ . . . I had to pay fifty dollars and pick up the garbage.” And he said, “What were ya in for, kid?” and I said “Litterin’,” and they all moved away from me on the bench, there, until I said, “and creatin’ a nuisance . . .” and they all came back . . .
I like the one he sang on the 30th anniversary. The one that begins “You mighta heard this before. I know I have.” The Nixon thing is one of my most favorite images.
mr. Conway had been voted favorite teacher since he began teaching at my high school.
He would insult us, call us curs and addle brains.
He wore bow ties, which he tied himself.
He treated us like adults, not that we deserved to be treated like adults.
Anyway, one day he came in, set a record [player in the middle of the room (the chairs were arranged in a semi-circle) and put on Alice’s Restaurant.
After it ended we had a discussion which lasted the better part of a week a bout what exactly the song was, ie; was it poetry? A folk song? A political statement? A political protest? An anti-war statement? A parody? A humor piece?
. . . and there was all kinds of mean nasty ugly looking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Father rapers! Father rapers sitting right there on the bench next to me!
I heard it last week as well.
WPLR in New Haven plays it every Thanksgiving at noon and 6 pm.
I listen to it, drink Bailey’s & work on the food. Have to!!
The local public radio station plays it too, I think they get a lot of requests as they are constantly telling you that they are going to play it. a lot of work to bring that pile up so we threw ours down
I saw Arlo Guthrie perform the song in Rochester, MI. It was pretty cool. Story was that that was the last time he played it before taking a ten year hiatus from performing it because it took up too much of the concert. At least, that’s the story I was told as a kid when I saw it.
When the Gulf War was about to break out, with the Iraqi army being (one of) the largest in the world, made up of veteran troops, a lot of people on my campus were worried that it would get out of hand and a volunteer army would not be enough. So we had an Army ROTC guy come and explain the draft (and assuage fears). I asked him why, like in Alice’s Restaurant, the Army wouldn’t want blood thirsty psychos in its ranks. He was amused.
The other week at church, somebody said something which triggered me into saying injected, inspected, detected, infected,
neglected and selected, or something like it anyway, but unfortunately I said it to a 17-yo and just got a weird look for my trouble.
