Punk Rock Art Photos: "Politics & Protest, DC Style" (16th Street/Park & Monroe)

"Don't be told what you want,

&Don't be told what you need:

There's no future,

 No future,

No future

 for you..."

<"God Save The Queen,"

The Sex Pistols>

<All images: The Reckoner>

I suspect that these flyers went up on this gas meter box on 16th Street during the debate about the Trump administration's enforced separation policy. As you can see...it's not a big hit in our nation's capital, evidently. The irony of evangelicals blindly supporting a man dogged by accusations of rampant serial infidelity, including the funneling of hush money payments to a pron star, needs no further elaboration.

Not sure what this flyer refers to, but I imagine it's tied in with the overt expression of racism that's suddenly become au courant again in the Trump era. Or, as Chris Matthews stated a few years back on MSNBC: "They act as if their base is wearing sheets!" Chris, old bean, you don't know the half of it.

I saw this particular sticker all over 16th Street, although this happens to be a different gas or electric meter. Considering the mess that the current crowd has made out of that ill-starred Washington, D.C. swamp -- which barely looks drained, nor even slightly disturbed -- it's not hard to miss the message, is it? Which brings me to...

...this particular photo. I saw this graffiti all over the neighborhood, too. One of the hottest local issues during my week-long stay in D.C. was Initiative 77, which proposed to change who's responsible for paying tipped workers the full minimum wage. (For a more in-depth explanation, see the link below.)

Although restaurant associations predictably went all in against Initiative 77, to the tune of $175,000 -- as Bob Dylan once said, "Money don't talk, it swears" -- several locals told me that waitstaff in high-end restaurants also pushed back, apparently because they feared that any form of equity for those on the bottom would mean taking a pay cut. 

Despite a low voter turnout, Initiative 77 passed decisively, by a 55-45% margin among those who did turn up. However...since D.C. is subject to Congressional oversight, the Republican majority is already moving to squash it, along with the City Council, whose members consider it a job killer. You don't want those lobbyists and political operatives eating elsewhere, right?

Suffice to say, this is a complex issue, with no easy solution. However, when voters get the idea that their will is irrelevant, it's not hard to see why these messages are popping up. It's a trend that, by and large, continues to erode faith in democracy. If Trump gets his wish to become a dictator, this is one of many signposts that we'll look back on as a warning signal that nobody heeded. End of sermon.

"Russia-gate, Murder-gate/My families depend on it/I NEED YOUR HELP NOW!" reads this rather dramatic appeal. Not having the background, I've no idea what kind of help the author is seeking...but he's helpfully posted where you can find him, so those who live in the Columbia Heights can ask him, if they feel so inclined.  As for me...I settled for snapping the picture.

Here's several causes popularized at once, on a street sign along Park Road NW (which I may have inadvertently referenced before as Park Avenue, or Street -- apologies for the error).  "I'd love to get several of those 'Trump Is An Ass' stickers," Squawker said. I should think they're not too hard to find, and whoever's making them is probably doing a roaring trade on them.

After all this gloom, I thought I'd leave you something inspiring -- this banner at the place I stayed in Columbia Heights, St. Stephen of the Incarnation Episcopal Church, on Newton Avenue NW. For three nights after hours, when everybody had gone home for the day, and I was the only person in the building, I struggled to get a decent shot of this banner. Finally, I did. It's a hell of a more appealing alternative than the world of Trumpism, isn't it?--The Reckoner

Links To Go (Hurry, Before Your Employer
Stiffs You Again On Your Tips):
https://wamu.org/story/18/06/07/guide-d-c-s-initiative-77-minimum-wage-proposal-pitting-restaurant-workers/#.W19ho_lKiM8

Punk Rock Art Photo: "Still Life (W/Mattress Tag): DC Style"

<That mattress tag, in closeup.>
<Photo: The Reckoner>

<i.>

"Now this is an item," I told myself, while strolling around 16th Street and Park Avenue NW in Washington, DC's Columbia Heights area. Why would anybody bother to graffiti tag a mattress -- one of two, in fact -- being set out for discard on the sidewalk? 

That's what I found myself staring at Saturday afternoon, though, during the first weekend of my business trip. That's one thing I love doing, whenever I do get to travel -- just wandering around, taking whatever shots appeal to me of the local color that I'm soaking up.

I wondered what kind of story lay behind this particular tag. I'm used to seeing them in streets, and train yards, but, again...why bother doing it on something that's (presumably) headed off to the county landfill, somewhere? Presumably not, since the grocery stores charge 10 cents per (plastic) bag, to prompt customers into bringing their own reusable bags. However...

<Those mattresses,

full and side views,

16th St. and Park Ave. NW.>
<Photos: The Reckoner>

<ii.>

...as it happens, trash is a major issue in D.C. And, judging by the info in the links below, so is recycling, an enterprise to which the city has remained committed, in fits and starts, anyhow. The irony of hauling away 53 tons of trash for incineration in Virginia -- including 132 truckloads of plastic bins deemed to be a public safety hazard, due to chewing by rats, as the May 2014 Washington Post story indicates -- needs no greater elaboration.

In fairness to D.C., it's hardly the only major city that struggles with recycling, a topic that often generates warm and fuzzy feelings -- until talk turns to the nitty gritty details of how to fund it, what kinds of rules will prevail, and who administers them. As the ILSR overview of D.C.'s solid waste history suggests, the city has a long way to go before it can call its efforts good.

A few details will suffice to make the point: D.C.'s overall recycling rate (35 percent) lags well below the 70 percent and above that other major cities have achieved. Similarly, D.C. pays $120 per ton to recycle, a figure that seems prohibitively high, compared to the figure cited for Baltimore (a princely $20 per ton). At any rate, read the overview for yourself, and make up your own mind about what's going on, and what should be done.

<The inevitable art shot, with

a little help from Picasa.>
<Photo: The Reckoner>

<iii.>

Now that I know a little of D.C.'s solid waste history, I can guess why someone did tag that mattress. It plays into that age-old impulse, I imagine, to say: Here I am. I wanna be known, I wanna be somebody, so pay attention. This is me. I exist. 

No matter that it's going off the sidewalk in short order (as it did, by the following Tuesday, 7/10, three days after I shot these images). Maybe the tagger's from the area, and maybe not. Whether he or she ever saw their handiwork again doesn't matter (unless they're the type snaps a photo for their files, which I doubt). The point is, I did. You did. We all did, as we passed by, if only for a few seconds. 

And maybe that's enough. Andy Warhol's celebrated 15-minute cycle of fame is now, often, a matter of seconds. But in today's parched climate...we take whatever we can get. It's life as the ultimate smash and grab raid.

So that's why I clicked away, snapping these shots. As I did, a bald black guy in his thirties or forties -- I couldn't tell for sure, exactly -- stopped, and looked intently at my activities.

"Hey, man, it's an art school shot!" I said. "The art school dance goes on forever!"

The guy threw up his hands, smiled briefly, but mechanically, and walked away quickly. I could see the wheels turning in his head: Just what I needed. Crazy white people! --The Reckoner

Links To Go
Institute For Local Self-Reliance:
Brief History of Solid Waste 
Management and Recycling in Washington, DC:
https://ilsr.org/brief-history-of-solid-waste-management-and-recycling-in-washington-dc/

The Washington Post:
 DC Said It Was Recycling -- It Wasn't (May 2014):
https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/dc-politics/pictures-show-dc-may-have-dumped-trash-cans-that-it-said-were-being-recycled/2014/05/20/1f4c2a24-df9a-11e3-810f-764fe508b82d_story.html?noredirect=on&utm_term=.3aea26ab5423

(Heads up: Link longer than usual, as I had to log in as a guest to read the story, and get around the paywall -- you may have to do likewise.)

Punk Rock Art Corner: "1977 (Year Zero)" Word Cloud

<i.>

Technically speaking, this drawing isn't a world cloud, in that the words don't directly flow out of one another. But that's okay. This is punk rock-style outsider art, which means we can call it whatever we want. I've always believed that if you're gonna be categorized, better to do it yourself, before the outside world slaps a disagreeable one on you that sticks like stale mashed potatoes. 

So, maybe in this case, we should call "1977 (Year Zero)" the anti-world cloud, I guess, since the words 'n' phrases don't care to rub shoulders with one another. It's also apropos for the song this drawing celebrates: "1977," which graced the B-side of the Clash's "White Riot," released in March of that storied year...what many writers refer to as Punk Rock's Year Zero.

That being said, what's striking, 40-odd years on, is how neatly "1977" straddles the punk-retro divide. On one hand, the riff is really a slower, stripped-down version of the Kinks' "All Day And All Of The Night," which shouldn't surprise anyone who collects Clash live tapes -- which showcase a leaner, angrier Mod-style garage band, with a gruffer vocal delivery, and more in-your-face lyrics than the era permitted.

At least, that's the evidence to these ears, based on the tapes that survived from the band's first half-year or so (notably, Screen On The Green, 8/31/76, The Roundhouse, 9/5/76, and Birmingham Town Hall, 11/5/76). Yet all the ramalama we soon called punk is present and correct here: the declamatory guitar, elementary song structure (verse/chorus, verse/chorus, verse/chorus, solo, and coda -- in 99 seconds), and no-frills approach (particularly the bass and drums).

<ii.>

The other obvious difference lies in Joe Strummer's lyrics, which veer from Dylanesque fixations ("Danger stranger, you better paint your face"), to straightforward protest ("I'm too long on the dole/And I can't work at all"), and provocative statements ("Ain't so lucky to be rich/Sten guns in Knightsbridge").This feature, coupled with Strummer's raspy delivery -- when most British singers affected a Yankee, or at least, mid-Atlantic accent -- truly draws the line in the sand between past and present. 

"1977" also marked another long-running tradition of Clash songs that would land Joe, at various times, in hot water with a) his punk-oriented peers, b) the music press, and c) rival bands, who gave him a great deal of grief for singing, "Sten guns in Knightsbridge." Was Joe suggesting. time to blow away those future British one percenters, Baader Meinhof-style, with automatic weapons? 

Not quite, Joe responded, maintaining the lyric referred to those Sten guns being pointed at him. Which makes a bit more sense, if you think about it, right? The classic posture of the punk rock troubadour caught in the crossfire, an image that many other bands would quickly mine themselves, to varying degrees of success.

However, that grief paled in comparison to the chorus, which drove the song's central point: "No Elvis, Beatles or the Rolling Stones, in 1977!" To Joe's critics, that assertion sounded -- well, downright dubious, considering that he'd bolted the more pub-rock-oriented 101'ers to join the Clash. How could the man who'd belted out Chuck Berry covers with abandon now seem indecently eager to bury him, as those slogans (CHUCK BERRY IS DEAD) daubed on his paint-splattered clothing appear to suggest?

Such questions are well worth asking, though 40-odd years on, what strikes me -- looking back -- is how many of Joe's critics, once they'd allowed themselves the luxury of making a rhetorical point, missed the fact that he, too, was making one of his own...that it was time to turn the page on the past, at least for the moment, and forge ahead with something new.

But that's what happens, isn't it, when people take art so literally. They don't see the forest for the trees, which is a more critical skill than ever to cultivate in these politically parched times...and why I felt, on the spur of the moment, ready to celebrate "1977" in my notebook on the train ride home. --The Reckoner

Links To Go
The Clash: "1977"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=KorwwAjKpaY

<I

Don't 

Care...

'Cause

I'm 

Not All There>...

Punk Rock Art Corner: "Touring, Touring, It's Never Boring" Word Cloud

I just went on a business trip to the East Coast for 10 days. It's probably the longest I've been away from home since, oh, 2011, give or take. Overall, while the actual business went smoothly enough, the actual logistics felt pretty challenging, at times, since I mostly opted for the train...which, generally speaking, is considered smoother (less physically punishing), than, say the bus.

Unless, of course, you're taking multiple trains, in which case all the cliches really do apply. One town looks like the next, and one mile melts seamlessly into the second, third, fourth, and so on. My last day proved particularly challenging, as I hopscotched from New York, to Washington, DC and Chicago, for a grand total of 23.5 hours!

I got a flash of insight into why bands hate the physical realities of touring, and why so many of them churn out songs about the drudgery of staying in Holiday Inns  as their careers blur into the twilight years. In my case, the road home started at 9:47 a.m. Saturday, and finished up at 9:15 p.m. Sunday, so in this case, I found myself thinking: "All my sympathies, lads. I get it now."

So how do you make the minute hand move a little bit faster, once you've exhausted what conversational possibilities exist among your fellow passengers? Well, me being me, you'll either write, or draw, and draw, and draw a little more. Thankfully, I had the foresight to pack some colored Sharpies!

So, in this case, I took my inspiration from one of the lighter odes to the road: "Touring," by the Ramones, which makes the whole business seem downright wholesome ("The kids all come from miles around/The party gets started when the sun goes down/And Holiday Inn's the only home I know"), if not an enviable experience ("We got a fuel injected tour bus, man, it really flies/With a video tape deck inside/Let's go rock 'n' roll, everybody come along") that no self-respecting combo should live without ("Touring, touring, it's never boring/Especially with your favorite girl/All around the world"). Suffice to say...look for plenty of drawings and writings to come out of this trip. -- The Reckoner