Commentary
It was Memorial Day Weekend in 2014 and I got a phone call from Raul Gomez Lopez, someone I hadn’t seen or spoken to in decades. We talked about our lives then and now. He told me this surprising story. I wrote it up as a song—with an unusual structure to reflect the different timeframes and excitement levels of the narrative--and I sent copy of it to him. We talked again and he corrected a couple details. (For example, he escaped with “only one small scar,” not “without a scar.) We got together at a coffee shop near his home in the Bay Area a few weeks later. He brought the tambourine and some photos he had saved from back then. Above is a picture of us at that meeting with a stack of old photos in the foreground. Thanks, Raul! It is good to be back in touch!
Listen
Lyrics
“This guitar kills Fascists,” said Woody Guthrie.
“This banjo surrounds hate,” answered Pete.
The tambourine I gave him was an instrument of peace
And it saved Raul one day from getting beat.
He called, said his computer finally found me.
He’d thought of me these more than forty years.
I told him, me too! I have not forgotten you.
And o’er the phone we shared a couple beers.
Fresh from college, near Vallejo, I taught first grade.
Raul then was my teen-aged classroom aide.
A handsome lad, the kids and I all loved him.
He reminds me now about a gift I made.
On a Tijuana beach with friends, he met una amiga
Soon, behind her formed a large group of tough guys.
“I will see you later,” politely, said Raul but then
His one friend cracked a joke a bit too wise.
Prontito the pachucos came on threatening.
The wise-guy friend let out a shout and ran.
Raul turned to the mob and tried to reason
While his other friend flashed something in his hand.
It was my parting gift, my old tambourine:
Each jingle seemed a sharpened Ninja star
As his amigo brandished, whirled, rattled, shook and thumped it
And Raul escaped with only one small scar.
“This guitar kills Fascists,” said Woody. “Hate
Surrenders to this banjo,” declared Pete.
The tambourine I gave him proved an instrument of peace
And it saved Raul from winding up dead meat.
My old tambourine Raul still takes down from his wall
It reminds him that good friends are a rare treat.
And it reminds him as he sings to keep the beat.