On "Disneyville" and Musical Patriotism

Two-dozen years ago, various songwriting artists penned their 9/11 songs. For the moment, I can only recall one. It was very popular, and indeed quite patriotic. Toby Keith, “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue. (The Angry American).” Toby sang about the Eagle soaring, Lady Liberty shaking her fist, and “putting a boot in your ass.; it’s the American way.”

Given the honest and appropriate nature of our nation’s shock and righteous indignation at the time, I had little problem with those sentiments being set to music (though it’s not my particular style.) And I could suspend my suspicion that Keith’s record company was likely exploiting those honest sentiments through crass commercial jingoism. Autumn-thru-Winter of 2001 was not the time for Americana-Hippies like me to be arguing with Honky-Tonk-Rednecks about makes a quality sincere patriotic country song. We all yearned for unity.

Like all Americans, I was struck in the gut by the Twin Towers going down (and the heroism of those civilians on United Flight 93, nose diving that fourth plane into Pennsylvania earth before the terrorists could do more damage.) The morning of the event, my band had just put wheels to pavement, headed out for tour in Idaho & Montana. We listened on the radio as details unfolded. Stopping somewhere on I-84 along the Columbia River to gather our senses, we considered canceling tour and heading back home to our loved ones. But we decided to keep on. No one said anything corny like: “If we cancel our tour, the terrorists win.” But that might have been our feeling, given that making music was life and a living to us. And people were expecting us in the Mountain states. (It was indeed, the strangest-feeling tour I’ve ever done. The venues were packed, but the atmosphere subdued — and our connections more personal. It was not a Show-Biz vibe.)

In the following weeks, I was fixing to write my own 9/11 song, fueled emotionally by images of explosive wreckage, human beings jumping out of skyward flames to their deaths, and bewilderment about the religious fundamentalist hate that motivates such colossal violence. It wouldn’t be a jingoistic song. (Like I said, not my style.) Nor did I want to indulge in shallow platitudes. Though I supported the idea of going to war in a righteously indignant cause I believed to be just (and good for the world), I was not interested in that kind of song. I wanted more to express the shared humanity of it — an experience of connection and perhaps unity.

But, in the time it took for my creative juices to flowing with my emotions in that direction, something else happened along the way. Something that broke my heart as a patriotic American. What ensued in our national community was not altogether unifying. Almost immediately, talk show hosts went into overdrive, puffing themselves up by vilifying imagined deficiencies in the patriotism of liberal fellow citizens, like me, who didn’t seem angry enough to wage war on the entire Middle East. Their like-minded politicians garnered support by calling me out for inadequate levels of hatred & fear of Muslims. The Vice-President declared: “Conservatives go to War. Liberals go to Therapy.” Cute and clever.

And finally, weirdly, the President himself had advice for us all. He suggested that we go shopping and invest in the stock market as a way of expressing our patriotism.

Shopping? This did not arouse feeling of connection and unity. I felt manipulated and alienated. I watched footage of memorial after memorial for fallen victims, first responders, police & fire fighters. We heard “Amazing Grace” played on bagpipes dozens of times. It always choked me up. But then I’d turn on the radio, and hear just awful stuff. People suggesting that we put fellow citizens in concentration camps (as we did to the Japanese during WWII.) People condoning the torture of prisoners. And waging a new war on a new front that didn’t seem to have much to do with the attache on our soil.

And another thing, less obvious, was also apparent to me. It seemed that my country, which had been attacked ostensibly for its cherished values, slipped deeper into indulgence in our most superficial elements — materialism & acquisition, pursuit of riches, and the distractions of popular culture. And, to rub salt in the wound, I had already been pre-criticized for even noticing any of this. The Vice-President had accused me of getting all self-reflective and wimpy. I was indeed “going into therapy.” (The self-therapy of Songwriting.)

So, when I picked up Guitar & Pen, a different song than expected came out. “Disneyville.” (Lyrics Below)

Like I said, it’s not my style to be heavy-handed, opinionated or “messagey” about politics, politicians, policy, war & anti-war, etc. So I didn’t go to any kind of polemics or propaganda. In my verses & melody, I simply lament the “great diversion” of the national mind away from what really mattered on 9/11 — a diversion into over-indulgence into everthing from Reality Television to Talk-Radio, like a national self-medication as a way to cope.

I am truly sorry that I couldn’t write something more patriotic-sounding and possibly uplifting. Honestly, I’m sorry. It doesn’t feel great that I went to therapy instead of war with my words & music. But something felt off. Like, we had gone sideways. (And in retrospect, I think I turned out to be right. I mean, look at us now. We’ve gotten pretty weird as a culture… And that second war I mentioned? It turns out most folks agree it was a mistake.)

I was finally able to record the song in 2005 with a new lineup called The Blue Rebekahs. Here’s a link to The Blue Rebekahs in the studio recording “Disneyville.” And the lyrics:

I don’t wanna go to Disneyland,

‘Cause there’s no place like it on earth.

That’s why I don’t want to go there.

There’s no place like it on earth. 

And I don’t wanna go to Nashville,

‘Cause I can’t play the pedal steel slide.

Autographed guitars all over the walls,

But there ain’t no music beating inside.

I don’t wanna go to New York anymore.

It’s too sad there. They got it bad there.

I don’t wanna go to New York anymore.

I’d just go mad there,

No matter what they had there.

I don’t wanna go to Las Vegas.

Some things don’t belong in the desert.

Elvis really died in the 70’s.

They can’t keep his body alive forever.

I don’t wanna go to L.A.

‘Cause they’re making it worse for me every day.

I don’t wanna go to Los Angeles.

There’s got to be more to life than this.

I don’t wanna go to Disneyville.

But I think that I might enjoy the drive.

In the arms of a heartbroken country,

You’ll do anything to feel alive.

Rock & Roll music can still be good for you,

If the tune’s got soul and the words are true.

In the arms of your country, when the heart stops beating,

You’ll do anything to keep it breathing.

Keep it breathing.

Artificial respiration all across the nation.

You breath in, you breath out.

And you’re high.