I went to college in Vermont during the mid-1980s. It was a time when the state was turning from red to blue, and Bernie Sanders had just won his third term as mayor of Burlington. For me, it was a transformational experience.
My upbringing was in a conservative suburb of New York City. 98% of the families in Darien Ct were upper, middle, and even lower class, but 2% were insanely wealthy. My family certainly didn't belong to that club, or any clubs for that matter. I've always felt like an outsider looking in on the world of privilege, and due to my proximity to it, some of it wore off on me. I sure liked my Izod shirts. I saw my first Grateful Dead show in 1982, mostly because it was the "in" thing to do among my peers, and it took me a couple of years before I really appreciated the GD experience. By the time I graduated high school I'd seen a fair number of shows. But I still didn't get it.
My high school civics teacher did a good job at helping me form an ideology; he did a great job at keeping his own views to himself. By the end of the semester I considered myself slightly left of center, believing that the strength of the 50 states came from a central government. I had originally been accepted to Ryder College in New Jersey, a respectable Business School, but a visit to the campus completely repulsed me. Granted, I was more than a little prejudiced against New Jersey (the armpit of America, as we scornfully joked in Connecticut), but the superficial tanning, body builder dudes, and brown ponds of the campus didn't make it seem at all inviting. It didn't help that it was in the shadow of the very prestigious Princeton. So at the last minute I applied to Johnson State, in northern Vermont. When I arrived there, I immediately felt at home.
By chance, I befriended a sophomore who introduced me to his upperclass friends, and although I'd seen long-haired hippie freaks before, this was the first time I'd been around ones who weren't deadheads. They were smart, outspoken, perhaps a little self-righteous, but what struck me the most about them was how politically aware and opinionated they were. It wasn't until one of them referred to the president as Ronnie Ray-gun that I felt myself aligning with the liberal Left. From then on, I cared about politics. No longer did I think that criticizing the government was taboo.
Nearly everyone who went to Johnson State leaned a little to the left, politically. Most of the in-state students were sons and daughters of the conservative “old school” Vermonters, yet they were influenced strongly by a concern for the environment, and disdain for pollution. Most of us from out of state came there to grow our hair long and escape what the reggae songs call Babylon - the ‘-isms’ and ‘schisms’, societal hierarchies, polluted capitalistic cities, and above all, greed. We were a community of people who didn't fit in anywhere else. One of my friends jokingly identified us as living on The Island of Misfit Toys which was all too true.
One day while hitchhiking back to campus from a show in Portland, the driver of the car and I got into a discussion about Vermont. Not a political discussion, just talking about Vermonters. And out of the blue he said "We love Bernie Sanders." I didn't really know what that meant at the time, other than Bernie had been the underdog candidate who upset the apple cart.
It was around that time that I started listening to the Jefferson Airplane.
Hey now it's time for you and me
Got a revolution,
Got to revolution!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzHBr0ndKus
Yeah! Gotta revolution!!
After I left Johnson that feeling continued to build inside of me, and as the years passed and my own hair got longer, I started to entrain with the vibe of the deadheads. I became less selfish, and less self-centered. There were some tough lessons along the way, but there were also some incredible friendships made. I was bonding with the network of freaks, and I was becoming one myself. I kept thinking back to the original freaks of Vermont, and began to see the Grateful Dead as merely a binder of hippies, and not the raison d'etre for being one. First I became a deadhead who practiced Yoga, then I became a Yogi who saw the Grateful Dead.
I know many of you were too young to have seen the GD with Jerry Garcia, and even in those waning years the vibe was dwindling. There was a time, especially during my first few shows, when we were all as one. We took care of each other. The idea that you could put a finger in the air and be gifted a ticket hadn't been corrupted by scammers leeching onto the scene, and it wasn't considered a 'miracle'. If you were broke and hungry someone would feed you. If you needed a ride to the next show, hop aboard. If you needed a place to sleep, there was always room for one more person on the hotel room floor. I guess that was the final overtures for the Woodstock generation who had held on for nearly 20 years following a marginally successful cult band. People like me had infiltrated and replaced them. We meant no harm, but we hadn’t had the same experiences. Gradually though, we caught on. There was this one time at a show when I was walking the hallway. I thought about something, and then it happened, immediately. As if the deadheads could read my mind. My expanded consciousness has never been the same since.
Why all this rambling about the Grateful Dead, anyway? Because Bernie Sanders embodies the spirit of that community. I have no idea if he went to Woodstock or ever saw the Dead play live. He's like a deadhead without the band. Bernie sometimes calls his followers his sisters and brothers, and that reminds me of one of the most moving songs I heard Jerry sing:
I wanna say to my sisters and my brothers Keep the faith When the storm flies and the wind blows Go on at a steady pace
When the battle is fought and the victory's won We can all shout together we have overcome We'll talk to the Father and the Son When we make it to the promised land
If we walk together little children We don't ever have to worry Through this world of trouble We gotta love one another
Let us take our fellow man by the hand Try to help him to understand We can all be together forever and ever When we make it to the promised land
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gl66dGvWTBs
What is this promised land he sings of? I've always wondered. Do we reach it in this lifetime? In a world where we drop our boundaries and prejudices we can become timeless and immortal. I'm beginning to think this world is attainable, and possibly just around the corner.
I'm not naive, I know this won't happen for everyone, or anytime too soon, but I have faith that we are on the precipice of beginning. I believe we really aren't separate beings the way it appears we are.
Yesterday at work I mentioned something about Bernie Sanders, and nearly all of my coworkers gave him a thumbs-up. One guy, a 46 year old who I consider to be fairly intelligent, told me he has never been registered to vote. But now he's excited to register, he wants to vote for Bernie Sanders. He says that Bernie is the only politician he's ever heard speak who sounds authentic. We started speaking in-depth about his ideology, and he's anti-capitalist. Why? Because capitalism pits one person against another. Work becomes competition. One man's gain is another man's loss. Capitalism actually inflicts a lot of pain onto one's soul.
And that, my friends, is why I support Bernie Sanders.
Love is real, not fade away
You know our love will not fade away