Virgie Bell's View: Ever Higher

It is not surprising to me that I had never heard of the top twenty “protest songs that matter" as featured on AOL. I had heard about three or four of the singers or protesters or whatever they wish to be called. Having raised my children right in the midst of the Hippie Movement, you would think I would be more up to date on such things, but alas, it just is not so. De'on, of course, was the hippy personified, and it wore me completely out. Years later I asked her just what all the protest thingy was about and I was serious in wanting to know. Her reply was something on the order of "Mom, I didn't know or even care, I just wanted to say things like Peace, Make Love Not War, and be with the in-crowd." I am so glad this movement did not take place during my cool years at Amherst Texas. It would have made my life absolutely intolerable, because no matter what else happened, it would have not thrived in the home where I was raised.

I have to laugh to even consider my dad's reaction to those kinds of things. As to the top 20 protest songs, I have to admit that it is stupid to even think that these so called artists even know what they are talking about as far as protesting anything. If the ultimate hippie (De'on) who was under the roof of the ultimate conformer (Me), then it is a pretty safe bet that an on stage protester doesn’t know crap from crapola as far as world affairs and politics. I have always had my nose in a book and thrived pretty much into the Father Knows Best culture. I have always loved America, loved the Jewish race and the state of Israel. I loved going to the movies and watching westerns like the Magnificent Seven. War Movies, yeah, loved the good guys, our US military, and I was always a Democrat of the Yellow Dog variety. Whatever else I am or have ever been; I have been one of those who could be considered “Informed.” As I have said in the past, this was most probably because we lived in a suburb of Los Angeles during World War 2. Like most families that were involved in the war effort (which included every good American), God and country and family values were the most important thing we honored as a nation. It was the soundtrack that enveloped my existence. Somewhere over the rainbow was a belief to me. It did exist, as the song suggests, way up high...and, oh, how I did believe in the Way up High.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a dreamer. I am also a former dancer, singer, hoe-hand, and cheerleader. Drama just seems to ooze out of my pores. I was a freshman when I was the soprano soloist for the choir at Amherst High School and even sang on the television station from Lubbock at that time. The Lords Prayer was the song and not many can sing it. So we have here a person that kind of gets into the talent scope of things. It sickens me that the performers pass themselves off as the intelligent source to seek. And to set the music of the soundtrack of my life in the present state we live in. I loved Louie Armstrong and I adored Nat King Cole. I loved to dance close to a good partner to Unforgettable. My eyes closed and oozing drama. I loathed James Brown. I considered him just about the ugliest man I ever saw until I saw Arafat. The Godfather of Soul set the standard for ugly men for me. You can understand my dismay that this glorified stage hand ran for president of our country. That old whiz Al Sharpton would have gotten at least one vote in this extended family. Go figure.

My world did not have protesters. No, my world consisted of warriors and beautiful women who loved them and were loved by them in return. Drama? Yes. No voice before or any since will ever be more beautiful than Nat King Cole’s Unforgettable. Absolutely. His voice would have foretold me of the land that I heard of once in a lullaby. Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue.... My eyes were always closed, dancing by myself with search lights in the sky over Los Angeles, or later, held close in the arms of that good dancer in Clovis NM, reminding me that yes…. The dreams I dreamed of really do come true. Some day I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind, where troubles melt like lemon drops away up on the chimney tops…that's where you'll find me. Somewhere over a rainbow blue birds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow, why then oh why can't I?

Top protest songs that matter to me? You have got to be kidding.

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