"You ain't done nothin' if you ain't been called a Red!"

Saturday, cigarette #2

On last word on the cultural contributions of organized labor:

Housemate Will, who has traveled extensively in far-off lands, complains that Americans have no national songs. There's "God Bless America" and the national anthem, and everybody knows the words to pop songs like "867-5309/Jenny," but none of those are much good when you're on a train with a bunch of Americans you've never met and the group of Russians at the other end of the car pulls out a guitar and starts a Russian sing-a-long.

Blues songs are, for the most part, made for one voice, and we don't have very many drinking songs, so union folk music is one of the most group-singable canons America's got: "Which Side are You On," ""There is Power in a Union," "Sixteen Tons," etc.

Throw in Dust Bowl songs ("Do Re Mi," "How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live?"), round it out with some gospel ("Jesus on the Mainline," "Will the Circle Be Unbroken"), and you've either got a sing-a-long or a Ry Cooder album.

(As a parenthetical, I'm curious where people learn folk songs these days. I went to Tuesday night folksing when I was learning to play the guitar, which is how I know them, but why does a random non-Southern Yalie know the words to "King of the Road" and "Hobo's Lullaby?" Is it parents? Sunday school? What?)