Hoo boy! I just got back from a trip to Oxford, MS, which was my home for 13 years.
I really loved living in Oxford, most of the time spent working for a blues magazine, Living Blues. I was immersed in documenting blues musicians, mostly older folks who are now passed on. They were amazing strong men and women, who had grown up in bad circumstances, and still managed to create great music, and rise above the crap handed to them socially. I learned a lot about how to live as a decent human being, even in poverty, and got an immense education in the complexity and nitty gritty of racial issues. It made me a much better person.
There was a lot of pain and anger, too, seeing how that system hurt people. There was a lot of alcoholism and messed up despair. Why did this or that great musician have to live out their elder years in poverty, and not get any medical care, when their riffs had been stolen by other musicians who got rich off it? I can say that I worked to alleviate that; helped get press and attention, drove musicians on tour, cooked meals for older people, worked with Music Maker Relief Foundation to get medical bills paid. But, it was great to do that, and as said, I learned a precious lot there, curing many of my middle class white preconceptions.
I love Mississippi for the complexity, for the contrasts, for all the great music and writing that came out of it. It’s a poor state, but, for those who are driven to create there, really rich. This was the first time I had been back in five years. I could walk around the square of Oxford, and, in ten minutes, see folks I knew,by chance, and feel at home. The two-term mayor is also the owner of the very great bookstore there, Square Books. I’m living back in NC now, and there are plenty of great bookstores in Chapel Hill, but none matches the one in Oxford, for atmosphere, selection, readings, and the weekly radio show broadcast from there, with authors reading and musician guests.
And, well, the music, I miss it. People don’t dance here like they do in Mississippi at concerts. I miss that groove.
After time away, now living in a very cosmopolitan Southern area, I left feeling that I could easily move back and live there happily. Count that as a high opinion of Am-Eye-Crooked Letter-Crooked Letter-Eye-Crooked Letter-Crooked Letter-Eye-Humpback-Humpback-Eye.