After a lengthy period of home renovations, I was thrilled last weekend to cap off a trying couple of months with a concert and dinner with my pal, Anje. We drove out of town about 30 minutes to reach the old Mandrell Estate and the stage that was tucked neatly back in the woods. We grabbed some drinks and set up our folding chairs amongst the crowd of mostly 30- and 40-somethings, giddy with anticipation to re-live the '90s with Guster, Ben Folds Five and Barenaked Ladies.
Sidenote: Being a selective cheapskate, I smuggled in a flask of mid-grade vodka in the zipped pocket of my vintage Fendi and purchased a small bottle of Sierra Mist for the bargain price of $4. But, seated right next to the bustling sound booth, I turned into a complete chickenshit and was paralyzed by the fear of being caught. I handed over my purse to the more rebellious Anje, who mixed me a grown-up soda.
The last time I saw Ben Folds Five was in the mid-'90s in Atlanta. They were fantastic then and they did not disappoint this time, either. Ben Folds is a genius on the piano and, as Anje put it after a few drinks, "They're probably just too smart for most people." I think she's right. They had a few radio hits, of course, but songs like "Alice Childress" never caught on with mass audiences, which is a shame because it's both haunting and impressive in its lyrics and composition. But counting everyone's favorite abortion song ("Brick") among your credits is nothing to sneeze at. "Can't you see, it's not me you're dying for, and she's feeling more alone than she ever has before. She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly." Truly original.
One of my favorite moments that night came just as the sad, but overplayed ballad concluded. As the crowd cheered, Anje turned to me and said, in all sincerity, "What's that song about?" I love her.
When Barenaked Ladies hit the stage, their energy was palpable and I marveled that even 15ish years since the last time I saw them, their enthusiasm and ability to entertain the crowd had only improved with age. Despite the shock of Steven Page no longer being part of the band (where have I been???), Anje and I loved the improved songs and stand-up of Ed Robertson.They're such a talented group of men who seem to genuinely appreciate their fans sticking with them for so many years.
It was a surprisingly pleasant day for TN in July; the music was the perfect mix of old favorites and new ones; the setting was beautiful and the crickets serenaded the quiet between songs. Sitting beside my friend who has become my family, the world seemed so lovely and I was consumed more than once by a feeling of peace and incredible joy because life can be so very beautiful.
After dropping Anje at her house, I wound through the hills surrounding the now quiet mansions of Brentwood. It wasn't until about 20 minutes later that I finally came to a red light and decided to check the news and see if the jury had reached a verdict in the Zimmerman trial. Having been holed up in a crappy hotel room all week while my floors were being redone, I spent a lot of hours watching the trial and wondering how these slimy defense attorneys slept at night. (Attorney Don West's daughter tweeted a picture with her father the day Trayvon's illiterate friend, Rachel Jeantel, testified, saying "We beat stupidity," and there were a few hashtags, one of which read, "Dad killed it." Doesn't that say a whole lot about these people??? See for yourself here: http://www.wptv.com/dpp/news/state/don-west-ice-cream-photo-daughters-mollywestttt-tweet-we-beat-stupidity-dadkilledit) I'll give Zimmerman's team this: they managed to bury the most relevant piece of information -- George Zimmerman instigated this fight by stalking and pursuing this unarmed child.
Staring down at my phone while a few random cars passed in front of me, I felt sick to my very core. Not Guilty. Of anything. This man, who openly admitted to following and shooting this unarmed child, was excused without so much as a slap on the wrist. Tears immediately stung my eyes at the injustice of it all. What does it say about us as a society that in 2013 an African-American child can be "justifiably" shot just for walking home because someone thinks they look suspicious? He's black. He's wearing a hoodie that's pulled up (couldn't possibly be because it was raining, could it?). It's late. He must be a criminal -- a thug. I am so utterly horrified by this notion that the state of Florida just validated. I feel sick that Trayvon's parents were sent the message that their child's life didn't matter, that he was somehow a second-class citizen. How are we not past this?!? How is it that we took a big step forward for gay civil rights, but we're taking another leap backwards when it comes to race?
A week has now passed since the verdict, and the country, thankfully, has not moved on. I think each day brings a new question as to what we're going to do about this. Even the President weighed in, though somewhat gingerly. The only people who seem not to be outraged are the people also anxious to distort or misreport the facts. (For example, Hannity said that even Trayvon's parents said this was not about race. That's actually a complete disregard for the truth, but who's surprised?)
I don't know what better way to illustrate what's still wrong with our country than this tragedy. Zimmerman is now in hiding and his lawyers say he'll have to look over his shoulder for the rest of his life, implying that we should somehow feel sorry for him. But what they are ignoring is that the uncertainty of his future is the direct result of his own vigilante actions. And even that bleak future is more than Trayvon will ever get to experience.
One moment, everything is beautiful and peaceful and the next a sense of right and wrong comes crashing down and justice seems to exist only for the few. There's so much I could say about this case, but nothing that hasn't already been said. I only hope that Zimmerman's legal battles continue and that there can, someday, be peace for Trayvon's family.
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