Time traveling with music

I did a bit of time travel this past Friday. My husband and I went up to Arts Place for a concert featuring Peter Yarrow of the folk group, Peter, Paul and Mary. His opening act was Mustard’s Retreat.
As I had never heard of Mustard’s Retreat, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Two guys came out on stage. One bearded with an infectious grin, the other softer and with more hair. The bearded one picked up a couple of what looked to be railroad spikes and banged them together rhythmically. Then he started singing. I was instantly transported back in time.
I closed my eyes and became a little girl sitting on my grandfather’s lap. Tennessee Ernie Ford was on the black and white television set singing a song about a working man who owes his “soul to the company store.” True, the man on stage didn’t have that lovely deep voice of the ancient singer, but it didn’t matter. The song itself was the important part.
The bearded guy, Michael Hough, stopped after the first verse and told us that we could sing along and he gave us the words to the chorus. As I sang the familiar words, I felt my grandfather’s arms around me.
Hough and his fellow performer, David Tamulevich, sang a song about Michigan mosquitoes. When they were introducing the song, I thought it was an unusual time to be singing about mosquitoes as it was barely 20 above at the time. I was glad they disregarded the weather as it was an entertaining melody.
Their voices were pure and perfect. At times they picked up a guitar, bass or harmonica to accompany their tunes. Always they gave us the words to the chorus and asked us to sing along, which we gladly did. I could have easily listened to them all night.
Peter Yarrow joined them for their last number. When he walked out onto the stage, I thought my late father-in-law had been reincarnated, only with really big hands. Mustard’s Retreat left the stage and Yarrow began singing a familiar tune. The audience sang along.
Yarrow stopped abruptly and asked us who told us we could sing. The entire audience thought, “They did,” before realizing that “they,” meaning Mustard’s Retreat, had retreated off stage. We all thought we had committed a major gaffe. Yarrow chuckled and gave us permission to sing along.
All of a sudden we were 20-something again. Yarrow prompted us on the choruses of his songs. He displayed a kindly sense of humor as he led us through the melodies of another era. He asked the children in the audience to come up on stage when he performed, “Puff, the Magic Dragon.”
He talked to each child who joined him. One little boy said he was “free” when asked his age. I thought he truly was free as three is old enough to walk, talk, and go potty by himself but not old enough to be pressed into the conformity that we demand of our children. On his part, Yarrow was impressed that someone who was “free” knew the words to a song written fifty years ago.
In addition to transporting us to a simpler time, Yarrow demonstrated that he is still trying to promote positive change in the world. He told us about a non-profit he created called Operation Respect. Its mission is “To assure each child and youth a respectful, safe and compassionate climate of learning where their academic, social and emotional development can take place free of bullying, ridicule and violence.”  I admit that the words to his song, “Don’t Laugh at Me,” brought tears to my eyes.
I wondered why the generation weaned on the premise that we should make love not war has raised a generation who thinks that violence is the answer. I wondered why we have abdicated our responsibility as parents to raise moral children. It hurts my soul to know that there is a need for Operation Respect.
He brought us back to the civil rights era with a moving rendition of “We Shall Overcome.” All in all, it was one of the best times I have had recently. I was entertained, I laughed, I remembered and I was left with something to think about. And for a little while I got to be a little girl sitting on my grandfather’s lap.[[In-content Ad]]