Inner City East Side Red Man's Blues (song)

words and music: larry nicholson



i’m pretty used up, i’m pretty worn out, i’m pretty beat down
not much call for a brown town crier town in a one horse town
you make your stand, make your bed, make your play
writing it down is to write it on clouds - it drifts away

you’re pretty weird, you’re pretty strange, your pretty voice
your shoulder blade, your raven’s hair my drug of choice
the wrecking ball rules my life, the street life drone
i wouldn’t say nothing, just know what i’d do if i had you alone

i’m so far from home
and I’m waiting for you
can i sail you away -
when i come for you?
leave these red man’s blues

pay the rent, pay the price, pay your dues
i’m a method actor playing the role in these red man’s blues
salt of the earth, salt the wound, assault my sense
you found me out, you caught me up on your barbed wire fence

you’re not your friends, you’re not your job, you’re not your art
i recognize you from your sweet voice and your restless heart
shore to shore, skin to skin, mouth to mouth
we could run all night, run for good - north, east, west and south

and i’m so far from home…
and i’ll wait for you…
can i sail you away –
when i come for you?

leave these red man’s blues
leave these red man’s blues
these red man’s blues…



© 2010 Champsteen Publishing

Indians Don't Go To Memphis (Midnight on A Freight Train) - song

words and music by larry nicholson


midnight on a freight train
is all I’ll ever be
it's hard to walk away smiling
so hard to be set free
half my weight is memory
the other half carved in stone
i’ll get to Memphis in a bottle
this life’s bred in the bone

some people get paid for their opinion
some swing the hammer all day
some folks get paid for selling Jesus
then get paid to take it all away
you carry on with your kindness
you get caught where the river bends
where the dogs don’t bite gently
each reserve is condemned

bad news, bad news
for the traveling man…

cross every palm you see with silver
the hollow men that you seek
in a house made of dawn there
her icy kiss upon the cheek
you learn to live in silence
in the twilight of your mind
fight back the dark with violence
see the world through a heart gone blind

sad news, sad news
what’s gonna help you sleep?...

dime store politicians
sell the rivers and the breeze
medicine show revolutions
can’t see the forest for the trees
the Indian and the maiden
we’re not long for the world
no heart was made for breaking
but you'd die for the dark-eyed girl

you choose, you choose…

off to Memphis in a freight train
its all you’ll ever be…


© 2010 Champsteen Publishing

was recently catching up with friend whom I lived and worked with at Lake Louise (90 mins West of Calgary), for nearly 3 years this was the approximate view from our backyard, well...our front yard - - There are places in the world AS beautiful, but none MORE so...

...everybuddy's got one...

I live next door the world’s latest empire.
America is history’s most recent example of an empire.
This is no exaggeration, I really believe it. The paradigm may be different but the result is the same. The United States is a fitting example of one nation oppressing all others (as well as its own people)in the pursuit of obscene and senseless self-interest and in turn benefiting an elite few (and their friends) at the reigns of power.
***
You history and war buffs (and the like) that get turned on by learning about previous civilizations such as the British and French Empires, The Chinese, the Huns, the Romans, the Greeks, the Egyptians and….sorry folks, but the Incas and the Aztecs all must know that these storied empires were built on the backs of the oppressed and powerless, the poor, the lowly of birth. Some things never change…at least haven’t yet.
***
The only difference between Americans and Canadians is that the latter find it “distasteful” to be thought of as Americans.
Let’s get real!
Their history is the same, their language is the same, their religion is the same, their culture is the same but more telling and more relevant is the fact that their “values” are the same. They love to run around the rest of the planet “helping out” whenever there is catastrophe in some faraway “other” when the people whose lands they now inhabit (and in which they have become quite wealthy, comfortable and happy) experience a hardship…no wait, what I mean to say and what is more accurate, is…indigenous people (the world over) experience mortality, that is DEATH, at a much higher rate than others and endure a quality of life far, far below those who have immigrated there and now call these places home
***
Treaties and Promises - Ancient history? So is the Bible, so is the Constitution, let’s scrap all these things then and start from scratch with equal power sharing. I am wary at this prospect however because I feel certain more than few Canadians still relish the idea of “taking care” of Natives once and for all and then starting “for real” free of the Indian problem.
***
As far as I know (which immediately makes all this relative/reductionist) the historical clash between races has been around as long as man…(sorry)…persons has er, have. Man, I go an event here in Vancouver, and sometimes I STILL get the stink eye when I say that I’m Cree…and this from other skins.

How long has the balance been skewed in gender power dynamics? That is, historically speaking, how long have men been oppressing women? Where - when and how has it changed?

I think about these things critically - healthy skepticism is a good thing because it helps me “get real,” that is, it helps me formulate useful approaches, its helps me decide what is a reasonable activity for me to be involved in, in terms of changing a circumstance – on what scale is the situation taking place, what is a reasonable expectation or outcome – what is a constructive approach (I tried all the other kinds, lol)…this helps me stay balanced, so that I don’t get depressed when I can’t change the world each and every single day…there is always SOMETHING progressive that can take place…always
***
orientation or information training should be MANDATORY for ANYONE without previous experience who wants to become involved with non-profit organizations. This means: volunteers, employees and board members. Many, many people who come to these places do not have the first clue about how they are structured, run, and what they are obligated to do not only for the client/community but for the funder. It is public money, not FREE money – as such, you must meet certain requirements as agreed upon between the organization and the funder (usually the Government, either directly or indirectly), and as a non-profit organization, you are bound by regulations contained in the Society Act. I have seen many, many people join an non-profit org with guns-a-blazin,’ rootin’- rootin, shit-kickin’ in mind and they get so hurt, disillusioned and discouraged because they end up jaded and feeling powerless because it said on the “pamphlet” this that and the other thing was gonna happen and they think: right on! – this ain’t some corporate monolith rippin' the people off, we’re gonna take it all back!!!...

...What The People In Africa Gave Me...

As one who writes I seek to convey meaning and hopefully have something useful to say from time to time. So it was then that I recently heard a story told by Anna, a Native (Indian) woman, who provided me and about 20 others various instruction and training. This woman has been in the field of wellness for years and years and was one of the first qualified in trauma work and has been all over the world learning, teaching and helping. A few years ago she and few others traveled to isolated communities in Central and East Africa that had been ravaged by war, sickness and brutality of every description. They came trained and prepared to do work in trauma and grief as many had seen family killed right before their eyes by military and tribal authorities and henchmen. Anna reported to us that one day they entered a village and were introduced to survivors and when the interpreter explained that the woman was Native and from North America, a great clamor arose. Anna was puzzled because upon the introduction and explanation of who she was, the group grew very anxious and excited but it was unclear what the nature of this excitement was about. Several villagers even ran off. As the helpers began explaining what they were there to do 2 elderly women were brought forward by those who had run away and they seemed desperate for Anna’s attention. They wanted to know, specifically, if it was true that Anna came from where they said. “Are you truly from North America? Are you really a Native person from there?” The elderly women were very emotional and it took some time though the interpreter to explain the validity of my friend’s words about her origins. When my friend confirmed through nods and affirmative signs that what they were hearing was so, the women began to wail and one actually fell to the ground. The 2 women then summoned the courage and asked if they could touch Anna, that is, they wanted to place their hands on her. Now Anna’s been to a lot of places, experienced many things and is an elder herself but even she was unprepared for what this gesture was about but she permitted it without question. As the women moved forward and gently placed their hands on Anna, her head, shoulders, her arms and so on, the woman began sobbing again uncontrollably as did the whole group of assembled villagers. It was explained to Anna later that for many years the people were brutalized repeatedly by authorities and terrorized with a very specific threat. They were told: do as we say for if you do not, when the Americans arrive, we’ll have them do to you what they did to the Indians there - they will exterminate you and you will cease to exist. These people lived under the idea that there were no longer indigenous people in North America, that they (we) were all dead. The people of the village were awed by the sight of my friend Anna who told them that Indians are living and that there are many in many places all over the continent. It began to emerge during her time there that the tyrants used this threat to get their compliance and to instill in them the fear of annihilation. It was explained that the elderly ladies had been under this fearful impression so long that only the placing of their hands upon Anna could prove to them that she was real and that there was truth in her words that she was who she said she was. To actually touch someone they thought never existed filled them with overwhelming gratitude and most precious of all…hope. The old women cried and cried and cried because they had forgotten what it felt like to have hope. Anna embodied the hope that their people might survive. As they explained it, if Indians, living under the most powerful nation on earth with the mightiest army and the mightiest weapons could survive and flourish then might they also? They were told we were all dead and how were they supposed they know otherwise? - when living and dying is in the balance day in day out your entire life - when loved ones were arbitrarily beaten or killed in front of you or simply taken away never to return. Anna reports how heart-wrenching it was to leave because the idea of safety is so precarious for these people that naturally they were afraid and didn’t want her to go.

I am the type of person deeply affected by stories like this. It is a powerful thing to feel connected somehow to people I will likely never meet but who I honor in one of the only ways I know how. The simple fact that I exist and that my being alive can be so deeply important to a group of gentle Africans a world away speaks to what I refer to as the immensity and potency of the soft power we carry.

I love this life.

© 2010 Champsteen Publishing