We are nearly a year into quarantine, lockdown, boredom, overwork… whatever this era is to you, and whatever you want to call it.
How are you documenting this time? Are you documenting this experience for future generations?
After my father’s death a year ago, while going through his belongings, family members discovered a box of writing done by my paternal grandmother. She was a widow and mother of thirteen and a schoolteacher in a one-room schoolhouse, with only an eight-grade education. If I dare say, “dirt poor” was probably an aspiration. She was born in 1895, and lived through the depth of the Depression. Her husband, my grandfather, died in 1938, leaving her to raise their twelve surviving children on her own. She died in 1961, and I have only one vague memory of her.
But, her stories live on in that box of writing.
Fast forward to today. In the midst of the tedium and fear that we may be growing into a “new normal”, it’s easy to lose the fact that we are living through history. This era will be read about for generations to come. They will want to know not only the facts of this pandemic, but also what it was like for the average person to live through it.
How can we ensure that history is documented by all, not just those with the power to write “official history?” Write it ourselves.
Write your history. Write a song.
The Great Depression gave impulse to many to write songs of their experiences. We still sing, play, and connect to these songs today think “White House Blues” (featuring the late great Tony Rice, among others), or the Carter Family’s “No Depression in Heaven.”
For all you songwriters out there, if you haven’t already, it’s time to start writing the songs of this era. If you’re not a songwriter, start keeping a journal or diary if you haven’t yet about what your life is like right now, even if the most exciting thing that has happened in the past week is that you got takeout for dinner, or you had to fuel up the car for the first time in a couple months.
These kinds of stories are the narratives bluegrass was made for.
A few of them are starting to appear, notably Donna Hughes, “I Miss the Days When Corona Was a Beer” with this apt chorus:
There ain’t no ballgames
Ain’t no parades
Ain’t no school
It’s sad to say
No planes are flying
Livin’ in fear
I miss the days when Corona was a Beer
There is also “If Corona Don’t Get Me, Quarantine Will,” by Backline.
I sit at home
All alone
Just losin’ my mind
I wash the dog
Walk the hog
Mow the lawn for the thousandth time
Country music has a few entries as well. Luke Combs “Six Feet Apart” will bring more than a tear to your eyes—especially this chorus:
I miss my mom, I miss my dad
I miss the road, I miss my band
Giving hugs and shaking hands
It’s a mystery I suppose
Just how long this thing goes
But there’ll be crowds and there’ll be shows
And there will be light after dark
Someday when we aren’t six feet apart
or Riley Green’s “Better Than Me,” which tries to look at some of the positives of our current situation.
I got a little less in the bank
I get a little more sleep
I get a little more use out of that old porch swing
I got a little more her holdin’ on to little more me
Feel a little more free
Okay, I’m no songwriter—and maybe you’re saying the same thing. But, it’s time to dig in. Write your stories so your great-great grandkids will understand how you made it through this “unprecedented time.” Write a song about how you hate the phrase “unprecedented time.” Or, write a story about someone who didn’t make it through. And maybe, turn that story into a song. I’m going to try.
As a final note, I’m also going to publish my grandmother’s writing, nearly 100 years later. Her stories deserve to be heard.
So do yours.
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PS If you haven’t read the May 27, 2020 Bluegrass Today, “The last batch of quarantine songs, or homebound songwriters lament,” I recommend it for a much-needed laugh. Chris Jones always hits it out of the park.
