The air feels heavy with many things today, so I thought I’d share this, from Clarion Alley, as a reminder of sorts, or maybe just a laugh, if you’re in that mood, instead.
San Francisco himself at the Mission Dolores Basilica, right next to the original Misión San Francisco de Asís.
The Basilica and a nearby park get their name from the “Arroyo de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores,” or Our Lady of Sorrows Creek.
I haven’t posted anything political in a very long time, and the awful thing is that I’m moved to post today for reasons not that political. Because as horrors rain down on Jenin, a melancholy tune called “Jenin” plays in the background hum of my mind, recalling every horror and every sorrow from the endless reel of misery in places like Jenin.
Songs like “Jenin” sting my eyes and places like Jenin prick my conscience; I should not need songs like “Jenin” to cry for Jenin.
But there we are. That’s how it goes. And that’s why they write songs like “Jenin.”
“Oh, child, what will you remember
When you recall your sixteenth year
The horrid sound of helicopter gunships
The rumble of the tanks as they drew near
As the world went about it’s business
And I burned another tank of gasoline
The Dow Jones lost a couple points that day
While you were crying in the City of Jenin.”
(David Rovics, Jenin)