We Shall Overcome: Gov. Walker's Hypocrisy on Display this MLK Day

Martin Luther King Jr. under arrest in 1958

In the ornate Wisconsin capitol rotunda last Monday afternoon, divisive Republican governor Scott Walker finally faced a political foe that he could not possibly vanquish:  the ghost of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

The official annual state ceremony celebrates the inspiring life of that uncannily eloquent American, abbreviated simply MLK, who led the civil rights movement into the promised land of overdue voting rights & the abolition of inhumane racial segregation in the South.In his capacity as chief executive of state government, Walker was obliged to attend, but the irony of that union-busting enemy of public education presiding at the event was hard to ignore.  He opened the tribute with some uninspired remarks, a sharp contrast to the moving a capella    
gospel song that followed.

The baritone performer of that number was ethnomusicologist Dr. Jonathan Overby, executive producer of the ceremony as well as its diplomatic master of ceremonies.  Overby is also the longtime host of the Wisconsin Public Radio (WPR) show Higher Ground.

Throughout the nearly two-hour ceremony, broadcast live via  WPR & WORT-FM Community Radio, religious & patriotic music alternated with appeals to God & mostly empty political rhetoric.  All the while a greybearded silent protestor in the gallery held up a stencilled sign asserting that "WAR IS AN ENEMY OF THE POOR."  Indeed, the ceremony was rather marred by militaristic tributes - one guest given special recognition was a black female Army general.  The anti-Vietnam War activist King would have grimaced.

It was dangerously cold outside, with below-zero wind chill temperatures, yet warm sunlight poured in through the skylights & windows surrounding the gold-leafed mural high in the dome overhead.  As full of contradictions as American society itself, the program featured the Kenosha Tremper High School Wind Ensemble performing "America the Beautiful" one minute and, the next, a speaker citing Mississippi activist Fannie Lou Hamer's outrage at the 1964 Democratic National Convention.

"Is this America?" Hamer wondered aloud, after party officials denied her integrated group their rightful place at the electoral table.

The diversity & forbearance of the audience, however, encouraged me.  Nowadays it's rare to see so many children & adults of all ages & races attending a public event with a noble purpose.  It's even rarer to see people keeping their smartphones out of sight for so long.  I didn't notice a single person checking email or Facebook during the long MLK tribute.

"I've decided to stick with love," said the elderly African-American minister who gave the invocation, quoting Dr. King.  "Hate is too great a burden to bear."

Later, as the multi-racial University of Illinois Black Chorus led the singing of "We Shall Overcome" I nearly believed that the mean-spiritedness of self-serving politicians such as Walker would be as transitory as the hateful racist tactics of Alabama governor George Wallace proved to be in the 1960s.  That resonant anthem of the civil rights movement still engenders hope in a cynical dreamer like me.

On cue, a group of protesters draped a banner from the third-floor railing that read "JUSTICE 4 TONY."  It referred to the shooting of an unarmed mixed-race 17-year-old named Tony Robinson by a Madison police officer last March.  The small group stood silently throughout "We Shall Overcome" with arms raised in the black-power salute that has been in vogue again since the Black Lives Matter movement gained national traction in recent months.  Several white teenagers in the audience gave the salute in solidarity.

Perhaps the most salient speaker of the day was Aja Brown, 34-year-old mayor of Compton, California.  Brown appealed to young people, urging them to take political action now.  She noted that youth have always ignited historic change - far more often than their cautious elders.  Dr. King, for example, was just 25 when the Montgomery (AL) bus boycott started in 1955.  She suggested that responsible adults mentor young people who lack positive role models in violence-plagued communities.

"Do you plan to die with the baton in your hands?" Brown asked, decrying older leaders reluctant to cede power to the next generation of activists.

The MLK ceremony concluded, as most similar events now customarily do, with the recitation of a passage from Dr. King's August 1963 "I Have a Dream" speech.  This year the statewide honor went to precocious 12-year-old Zaria Roller, a budding actress, singer & pianist who attends Verona H.S. Exploration Academy.

Gesturing as she intoned the familiar prophetic words, Roller embodied well the theme of this 2016 MLK tribute ceremony:  Stand Up & Stand Out.

Scott Walker wore the bland mask of white male privilege as he issued an official proclamation declaring Monday (January 18, 2016) THE REV. DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR. DAY throughout the state of Wisconsin, further "commend[ing] this observance to all of our citizens."  He seemed to be unaware of - or unconcerned by - his own hypocrisy in doing so.

"Power is the ability to achieve a purpose," explained Martin Luther King Jr.  In his 1964 Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech, King closed by paraphrasing the words of poet John Keats:  "Beauty is Truth / Truth Beauty."

Combining Mahatma Gandhi's moral force of non-violent resistance to tyranny with his own radical vision of an American society based on human need rather than corporate greed, Dr. King was a tragic hero who casts a long shadow over US history.  We ignore his message at our peril.

A love-letter to Madison: culinary delights, mad music & an ethnic festival

Many Wisconsinites have no clue what a gem their state capital has become.  I confirmed my appreciation for Madison during a recent five-day sojourn (May 14-19).  Now, after a Memorial Day afternoon spent drinking in Racine at a weird backyard concert-cum-foodfest for the over-60 crowd - ironically, next door to the former home of Victor DeLorenzo’s (the Violent Femmes) parents on Markridge Circle - I felt like many former Madison residents who reside here in (what used to be called) the Belle City:  as though I’d been exiled from the Land of Oz for some unfathomable Kafkaesque reason.  

The cover bands that host John hired for this geriatric gathering in Mt. Pleasant were serviceable.  A duo called Mississippi Blue played songs by Bob Dylan (“Visions of Johanna”), Jackson Browne (“Running on Empty,” at my request), Steve Earle,  the Eagles et al.  Milwaukee’s Freddy & the Cruisers, a tight 4-piece oldies band featuring a great female drummer who owns a groovy customized 1959 Morris Minor work-van to haul her kit.  As much as I dug talking with the musicians, I met just one interesting person in the audience, a bearded boy who interned for Will Allen’s inner-city Milwaukee community-garden project in 2010.  

By contrast with the vitality I’d observed in Madison, the holiday scene in Racine was on life-support.  In one case, almost literally.  As I approached to get a brat, the geezer tending the dual grills appeared to be stroking out.  I could not rouse him from his glazed unconsciousness as he slumped in a lawn chair.  “It’s only 12:15 and already there’s one fatality,” I thought.  But I’m glad to report that the glazed gent recovered; he did not die at his duty-station beside the sizzling meat after all.  

Meanwhile, I prefer to recall my extended weekend in Oz (i.e Madison).  Arriving on Wednesday afternoon, I met my friend Tony (aka Sky), a state office worker, at his westside home.  We walked his border-collie Dylan in a rustic neighborhood woods with freshly sculpted mountain-bike trails (Rocky Bluff, just north of Hoyt Park).  Then we settled in for refreshments on the sunny deck of his nicely landscaped backyard.  

Sky & I have known each other since 1966, our first grade at St. Edward’s elementary school in Racine.  We remained friends throughout Catholic high school (St. Catherine’s), but lost touch, reconnecting after Sky’s post-Peace Corps move to Madison in the late 1990s.  I’ve lived in the liberating mini-metropolis of “Madtown” several times since my undergraduate days at the University of Wisconsin (1980-86).  I even served for eight months as an Assistant City Attorney there in 2001.  (Prosecuting traffic & underage-drinking cases proved too stressful - yet, paradoxically, too mundane - for me.)   

My mission for the next five days was twofold:  (1) to sample Madison’s delicious & diverse mid-May cultural offerings; and (2) to find a female lover.  (I’ve been involuntarily celibate for so long now that my condoms have expired.)  I regret to report that I failed to achieve my second goal, despite heroic attempts at dancing, flirty conversation & smoldering eye-meets.  I did, however, succeed at savoring the essence of this city of colleges, music-clubs & interesting restaurants built upon an isthmus straddling Lakes Mendota & Monona.  

You might’ve heard that Otis Redding, as well as several members of his backing band, the Bar-Kays, died in the shallow waters of misty Lake Monona on December 10, 1967.  The tragedy was due to a mysteriously doomed flight (cause:  officially undetermined) from Cleveland.  Sadly, it’s true - there was one survivor & six victims.  For more details, see:  http://host.madison.com/news/local/doug_moe/doug-moe-years-later-questions-still-remain-over-otis-redding/article_c4101fa0-4236-11e2-b870-0019bb2963f4.html.

But at least those legendary recording artists gave their lives for a good cause:  they were bringing hot soul music up from Memphis and sharing it with the many Stax/Volt fans awaiting their arrival at the Factory on Gorham Street in Madison, anticipating the charismatic Redding acting as a sort of tall black swivel-hipped Santa Claus.  You can watch his riveting perspiration-soaked performance at the Monterey Pop Festival (June 1967) in a documentary film of that name. 

So now it’s Wednesday evening on State Street, downtown Madison during graduation week.  Model-hot young folks are strolling past everywhere you look.  Sky & I head for the Orpheum Theater, a vast vaudeville house turned ornate movie palace turned occasional music hall, to catch Neko Case & her band in concert.  She did not disappoint her adoring fans, delivering a solid soulful performance of her many brilliant songs (e.g. “Margaret vs. Pauline” & “This Tornado Loves You”).  

Backed by four middle-aged white guys (maybe there’s hope for me after all) plus harmony vocalist Kelly Hogan, who proudly announced that she lives in Evansville (Wisconsin/USA) Case delivered the musical goods - as well as some funny lines of banter.  The only sour note was struck by some moron yelling “Fight harder & show us you love us!” in a belabored allusion to the title of Case’s 2013 album The Worst Things Get, the Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You.  Neko graciously ignored the wiseass remark.

Suddenly it’s the weekend.  My pal Dave, unfortunately, is too tired from teaching high school all week to go out on Friday.  The evening before, Dave & I dined on carne asada & a Bad Breath Burger, washed down with refreshing Lake Louie pilsener beer, at the Weary Traveler gastro-pub, located next to a tattoo parlor & Star Liquor at 1201 Willy Street.  So I venture out solo, guided by the ample music listings in Isthmus:  there are 40 venues in metro Madison featuring live shows that Friday.  

My first stop:  Bandung, an appealing Indonesian restaurant & bar at the foot of Williamson (aka Willy) Street - next door to Madcity Music Exchange, where I’d traded eight vinyl jazz & hip-hop albums for $7.00 that afternoon.  Located within a stone’s throw of Lake Monona & a mere kilometer from the site of the famous citizens’ 2011 Rotunda Revolt against Gov. Scott Walker’s evil Act 10 (gutting most civil-servants’ hard-won union rights) inside Wisconsin’s historic domed 1900-era limestone state capitol, Bandung offered two musical acts that night.

The first band was called the Oudists, an exotic trio of oud-player, hand-drummer & a woman singing in Arabic, rendered even weirder by a pair of 40-something blonde Caucasian-American ladies belly-dancing.  The headliner stunned me:  a duo from the larger Brazilian-music group Samba Novistas, featuring Rio de Janeiro native Anapaula Strader on vocals (alto) & Madison native Jeff Alexander on a sensitive tropical-wood acoustic guitar.  (A pair of amateur guest percussionists barely enhanced the sound.)

I felt privileged to be among the dozen patrons digging this swinging samba duo's melancholy yet lively repertoire of Brazilian songs, originals (in English as well as Portugese) & covers, including Dylan’s “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.”  Anapaula may have botched Bob’s lyrics, but her emotional interpretation of that resigned dirge was spot-on.  Jeff & I shared some medicinal herb on the patio after the gig (marijuana was decriminalized decades ago in enlightened Madison:  you’re legally allowed to possess up to one ounce at home).

Saturday in nearby Stoughton (Wisconsin/USA), a Norman Rockwell-esque town of 13,000 souls, it was Syttende Mai.  The 17th of May is a national holiday in Norway & Stoughton is rotten with beautiful blonde Norwegian-Americans.  On this date in 1814, Norway ratified its first constitution, cementing independence from Denmark.  Dave, his elderly but still fun parents I checked out the local Edvard Grieg (male) Chorus, some gorgeous pieces of rosemaling, a folk-art style of painting on practical wood products) & a craft fair.  We sampled tasty Swedish meatballs & ate some lefse, a simple tasty pastry, in a 1930-era Art deco-style armory, at a benefit for the local Norwegian Dancers.

On Saturday night, back in Madison, Dave & I plus a few friends caught VO5, a disco-era costumed curiosity, on the UW Memorial Union Terrace.  Drinking a pitcher of local craft beer with a friends on the comfortably packed terrace was pleasant, but the throbbing music impeded our conversation.  So I joined the crowd of ecstatic dancers instead, eventually dancing with Lulu - an immigrant from Mexico City - and her knockout Spanish friend to covers of ABBA, the Bee Gees & other disco-era hits.  My body & soul both got a revitalizing workout under the stars.

Sunday brought the WORT-FM (listener-sponsored idiosyncratic "community radio") Block Party at a new location.  Thanks to a few whiny neighbors on Doty Street, the party had to be moved from its usual perfect shady spot on the block alongside WORT’s studios.  Jim Goronson & the Madison Homebrewers & Tasters Guild slogan, No Crap on Tap, was still credible.  I drank a Grumpy Troll (Mt. Horeb. WI) Belsconsin, compliments of the enigmatic yet generous Johna Roth, who was visiting from Portland.  I chatted with friends & stood in the sunshine outside my old workplace (Office of the City Attorney).  The music was mostly mediocre, but the weather was spectacular.  To cap off a perfect afternoon, the kind lady who owns the Banzo falafel food-truck shared some yummy hummus & warm pita bread with me.

Returning to Racine was a downer after my adventures in metropolitan Madison.  But I’m trying to make the best of it here until my next visit to Wisconsin’s fantastic capital.  If you’re still skeptical, go see for yourself how amazing Madison can be in the warm months.  You will not be disappointed, unless you're already dead inside.

[© 2014 by J.C. Mrazek]