A little visit to the USA softened by a soundtrack of American classics

I’m in California. Yup, right now. Not a great time to come to this country, and for sure I was nervous. So many stories this year of tourists getting treated badly on their arrival. 

I felt prepared to come into a polarised and breaking society. I was (sort of) prepared to come face to face with people who worship guns and god and a very unappealing leader. It wasn’t an easy decision to come, but family time called. It’s been nearly 2 years since I’ve seen my son and his wife in the UK, and 18 months ago they moved from Canada to California. Boy have I missed them. Thankfully flight tickets were comparatively cheap. And I hoped that me being an ‘old mum visiting her son’ would keep me safe.

I find it really hard as a parent to have both my kids living on different continents, one in the UK and one in North America. Even when families live close by, busy lifestyles typically mean that the time parents and their adult kids spend together is significantly less than it used to be for previous generations (in western societies). Sure, the internet has made a huge difference, but still, when we’re separated by oceans, the amount of actual time together that we have ahead of us is getting infinitely smaller. The geographical distance comes with other difficulties like different time zones, jet lag, travel costs, exchange rates (gawd it’s expensive here in America!), missing out on precious time with fast growing grandchildren, having to choose between expensive accommodation or living all together under the same roof 24/7, miserable weather in the UK, and the scary thought of coming face to face with mountain lions or bears when I’m out walking here in rural California! I’d much prefer to live closer to my kids. In a heartbeat. 

My son had plans to come to a wedding in Australia later this year and would’ve popped over to visit me on Gili Meno, but sadly he has cancelled that entire trip, due to the fear that if he leaves, he mightn’t be let back in. And I’m worried that if I didn’t come to see them now, there’s a chance I mightn’t be able to later, given the situation here in the States.

So I came here to spend one precious last time with them while they’re a twosome, because soon they’ll become parents and life will forever change when their bub (my first granddaughter) arrives.

A granddaughter that will be born an American citizen, with a non-American father. I find that a scary prospect, but being powerless to change the situation, all I can do is hope and pray.

I’m no current affairs expert and generally I think all political parties are as messed up and uninspiring as each other, but I think most people would agree this current administration in the USA is more than worrying. International tourism is down, and everyone I spoke to before coming here agreed they wouldn’t choose to come here at the moment. Thank goodness it’s all gone ok so far (🤞), and I share this blog as a little positivity amongst what sometimes feels as nothing but negative stuff coming from here.

Thankfully I had no trouble on my arrival, with not even a question asked of me at the border control in my transit stop. Instead loads of airport staff at every turn calling out effusively: Welcome to Atlanta! In fact all the people I’ve met so far in my short visit here have had huge smiles. I guess America is known for its hospitality and service culture; it is remarkable. I hope it’s not purely driven by the need for tips, but either way, it seems ingrained in the people and it’s a welcome touch, especially when you’re a reluctant visitor.

Last weekend we went on a wee road trip. I saw the famous California coast! It’s exciting to see a place that you’ve never been to before, yet feels so familiar to you from movies, books and music. As we strolled along the beach path, a long forgotten memory surfaced of when I was a walkabout kid sitting on Brighton Pier, singing ‘Sittin on the Dock of the Bay’ over and over.

Music. For sure, a lot of the best music has come from the UK. But music from the USA stands out too. So much of the music from this country has been the soundtrack to my life. I think like most people, whether you love or hate the American way, we all feel some sort of close connection to it, especially through music.

One of my favourite songs when I was young assured me I’d be safe and warm if I was in LA. ‘California Dreamin’. I still love that song and was lucky to sing it with a choir many years later. It stuck in my mind last weekend as we stood looking west out across the Pacific, and even though we weren’t in LA, it gave me a warm feeling.

In a candy shop on the Old Fisherman’s Wharf at Monterey I heard ‘Ventura Highway’. This is my second trip to the USA, and like in 2019 when I was in Arizona, it seems the old music of my childhood is a common soundtrack to people’s days. I’ve heard so many golden oldies.

We spent a day walking in Yosemite Valley, surely one of the most stunning places on earth. It is literally breathtaking. Its awesomeness forces you to pause, reflect, and appreciate. By the river that meanders between those incredible granite rock faces, a family was enjoying a picnic after a day of cycling. It wasn’t Taylor Swift or Teddy Swims I heard them play on their speaker, instead they were listening to Billy Joel asking for ‘Honesty’.

Yosemite is so immense and so grand, my photos don’t do it justice. You have to go there! And as I watched other people hike, cycle and picnic there in that incredible natural beauty, any thoughts of politics or divisiveness or wars seemed very far away. 

The other afternoon we went to a local tennis court and tried our best to hit some actual rallies. The backdrop there? The distinctive sound of The Doobie Brothers asking us to ‘Listen to the Music’ which blasted out of a speaker from people playing pickleball at the other end of the courts. There was a baseball field and people walking their dogs and playing frisby, nowhere was there any sign of the crazy messed up rhetoric, prejudices, health care problems, job losses and increasing discrimination and struggle.

Yesterday morning I went for a walk from the house, along a windy hilly road. It’s a remote area and I carry bear spray for the mountain lions! But music softened the way. This time, the oh so familiar sound of the Eagles urging me to ‘Take it Easy’ floated down over a field of grape vines from a big, beautiful, flag adorned wooden barn up on a hill.

Lighten up while you still can, Don’t even try to understand, Just find a place to make your stand… It was loud. It was 7.30 am. I guess there’s no way of knowing from that tune, nor the American flags, whether the people inside were republican or democrats, MAGA folk or just patriotic still from July 4th, and whether they’d be welcoming or not. 

 

 

The afternoon before I went to a diner in the nearest town. It’s an old gold rush town where some of the architecture looks like it’s from an old western movie set. The waitress wore a cute apron and carried a little notepad. She kept checking in to see if I was happy. It’s a far cry from the faceless QR code culture in so many other places these days. And it felt sort of cool being in such an iconic setting. I treated myself to a dutch apple pie and Dr Peppers and just chilled for a while, surrounded by rusty old red Coke signs and ancient red gasoline bowsers and big dusty leather saddles. Their playlist included some of the most beautiful songs of all time. Elvis sang ‘In the Ghetto’ and Bread reminded me ‘It Don’t Matter to Me’.

I felt I’d stepped back in time. But also, was I imagining a subliminal message in all these song titles?

I wandered into some shops on the main street there, and more old memories came to me as I was greeted by songs I hadn’t heard in a very long time. In a gorgeous gift shop, Roberta Flack’s melancholy ‘Jessie’ gave me goosebumps. In a rustic warehouse selling old fashioned bric-a-brac, the large open space resounded with one of the most beautiful voices of all, Linda Rhonstadt, singing ‘Blue Bajou’. I feel so bad, got a worried mind. I was carried back to days when I was home alone as a kid, putting that album on the record player, and belting it out with all the emotion a 13 year old girl can bring. Who’d have thunk 45 years later I’d be humming it along with her actually in the USA, in a very worrying time.

But I digress. This is supposed to be a positive simple little blog 🥴. I will say that in every store or restaurant we’ve walked into during my visit, enthusiastic staff all sing out with open warmth, “Welcome In!”. What a lovely thing to say! I think it’s a far cry from some other countries where staff barely look up from their phones when you enter. And another thing I’ve found, wherever I’ve gone, I’ve noticed the staff chatting together animatedly and happily while they work. That’s probably not what I expected to see. Life goes on, hey.

There’s been one occasion during this visit where music did not provide a soundtrack. We went to a BBQ with my son’s landlords and their family. The conversation was animated, warm, inclusive and engaging throughout dinner. I felt more than welcome. The after-dinner conversation turned to the topic of the day (I know, I know, wisdom recommends NOT to talk about politics or religion if you want things to stay harmonious 🙈). In any case, it was safe. They all expressed serious concern, even fear, and embarrassment, about the situation they’re living in. They shared some worrying stories about their workplaces, colleagues, friends and family and, sadly, stories about how the current administration’s actions are affecting them personally. One lady confided in me that she doesn’t feel safe anymore in her own country and would move if she could. Another lady who lives in Oregon described how the amount of people sleeping rough in her town has skyrocketed. A young man who’s just finished his masters and about to embark on a career in the foreign services, explained how the department he’s moving into was suddenly cut down to 25% last week, with many skilled and experienced professionals losing their jobs overnight.

Perhaps music wasn’t appropriate. Instead, here in the otherwise red territory where my son is living, we enjoyed a very peaceful and compassionate evening as the big orange sun sank behind the yellow grass and the towering pines and conifers of the foothills of the Sierra Nevada ranges. I felt a camaraderie with these hospitable American people who’d welcomed me into their home, and who were just as worried as many people in the rest of the world. 

It’s nice to know that even though I’ve seen pick-up trucks fly by me covered in Trump bumper stickers, and I’ve walked past front fences with Trump flags and banners hanging over them, and I didn’t really know how it would be to meet people in this ‘familiar’ but oh so strange country, there are apparently plenty of people not happy with the way things are here. It’s sad, and scary, and I pray that goodness will prevail in a peaceful way, sooner than later, and that not too much more damage is done in the meantime. I think all we can do is open our arms and hearts to those who are struggling here, as I’ve seen expressed on social media in supportive videos made in Canada and France. Most Americans are, of course, decent, good people, and deserve support.

Some nights after work my son and daughter-in-law sit down to watch a series. At the moment they’re into Daisy Jones & The Six, a fictional story drawn from the relationships and music of Fleetwood Mac. It’s set in the 1970s and the actors look like they’ve stepped straight off the Rumours album cover. It takes me back to rare happy memories of me with my father, immersing ourselves in that entire album in the car. Now here you go again, You say you want your freedom… 

Music has always been huge in my life and I love many genres from all eras, but Rumours probably remains my all time favourite album. It’s cool to see my kids, born in the 90s, enjoying the stories and music of that era. 

I’ve got a few days to go so you never know, but I haven’t heard the big one yet. Probably if I’d stopped on the road beside that big barn above the vineyard where they were playing the Eagles, I would’ve. Of course I mean ‘Hotel California’, also from a super album. It’s one of a few songs whose lyrics I’ve not forgotten. Some dance to remember, Some dance to forget…

Unfortunately I’ve grown tired of that amazing song. Because it’s done to death on my little island Gili Meno! Every single night of the year you’ll hear it sung on the beach, along with other golden oldies like ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ and ‘Sweet Caroline’. They make me cringe now and I wish people would sing more contemporary songs. But it is interesting that so many European couples in their 20s enjoy singalongs to these old American classics while sitting on a sandy beach on a balmy night in Indonesia. I think no matter if we’re in our 70s, our 50s or if we’re still in our 20s, some songs speak to us all, across the world, and bring us ‘home’.

Which reminds me of another song I heard when I went into an apple farm shop down the road. ‘Teach Your Children’ from Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. Perhaps an appropriate song for my visit here, this brief time of parent-child connection, of reciprocal teachings and, above all, love. 

Do you think that the lyrics of so many of these old songs are memorable because they are meaningful? Is that why music from the 60s and 70s still resonates with people from all generations?

Despite the music, the natural beauty and the good people in this country, I still wish my son and daughter-in-law didn’t live here. But it is what it is. It’s been important to me to come here at this time and I’m glad I chose not to wait. I’m blessed to have had this family time, in their home, to learn about their life here, to connect, in nature, simple and tranquil. A big lesson I’ve learnt from life is that it’s bloody short, and we never know and can’t control what’s around the very next corner (both good and bad), so make the most of every opportunity that comes your way. In fact, make your opportunities whenever you can. Especially to spend time with those you love, whether they live near or far. 

I’m grateful that these old American songs have been the backdrop – an anchor of sorts – to help soften my brief visit here in this very troubled year. Music helps bridge divides, and will always be a unifier.

I really hope it will be safe for me to come back when the new bub is born. I hope by then the country will have taken a turn for the better, for everyone’s sake and of course for the sake of my baby granddaughter 🙏. And I hope that, like us, she will grow to love American music, old and new, and be able to feel proud of it.