Take Note, Martinez for July 3, 2008

No Holding Forth on the Fourth of July?

I, for one, am glad we are not having a Fourth of July party at Waterfront Park this year. Our leaders -- the City Council, Chamber of Commerce and Main Street Martinez -- are showing their usual insight and intelligence in keeping us safe from terrorism in a post-911 world.

Think about it, folks. What better time for the terrorists to strike than at a celebration of our freedom? The kids, the parents, the grandparents, the nephews and cousins and kin are all having a fine time at the dunk tank, the beer booth, the meat stick vendor. . . and what better target for terrorism than that? What better way for the evildoers to show how much they hate our freedom than to strike at a celebration of that very freedom?

Yes, it's a canny and brilliant move. Take away that celebration, and you take away the opportunity to strike terror into the hearts of freedom-loving Martinez people everywhere. We stay safe, and the terrorists lose. Take that, Osama bin Laden.

Back in the pre-911 world, when it was safe to celebrate the Fourth of July, one of the things the Waterfront party did provide was a number of stages for bands to play all day long. There were country bands, blues bands, rock bands. . . it was one big cacophony, and most of the band were from around these parts. Imagine that -- the promoters of this event managed to fill an entire day with bands from around here, without having to reach out to DVC for entertainment. Ah, those were the days. These days, apparently, there are no local bands, but that's another story.

The first year I worked for the Martinez News Gazette, 1984, the City Council decided to have a song contest, because at that time San Francisco was having one. And the contest would be held at -- the Fourth of July. Now, lest you think the City Council was at that time a bastion of tax and spend liberals, we had on board a newly-elected Mike Menesini, Gary Hernandez, and Bill Polleck, who is now the county Tax Collector, and who was then the proud bearer of the Republican banner (and he still is, make no mistake). And they had no problem with a Fourth of July party. Still, they had this song contest -- write a song about Martinez and win a prize. I can't remember the prize, because I didn't win. I did go on TV, on one of those morning shows, and sing my entry. I still have the tape. But I didn't win. A woman from Antioch won, with her entry "Martinez by the Old Carquinez." You remember that song, right? Hey, Mr. Menesini, you voted for that song, care to sing us a few bars? No, I'm not bitter about losing the song contest. I had years to beat up on all of them afterwards as a reporter. So it worked out. And now, I have a forum in which to print the lyrics to my song, which didn't win, called "The Lights of Martinez."
I love the lights of Martinez
I love the lay of the land
And just as a secret between us
Life here is awfully grand.
Stars always shine in Martinez
right through the cloudiest sky, so
if you should come to Martinez
I know you won't say goodbye.

Where the bocce balls roll
through the light and the dark
and the couples stroll by arm in arm
heart in heart,
look for me down in Waterfront Park
alive and well in Martinez
(repeat chorus)

There are other verses, of course, but the ravages of time have claimed them.

Then there was the time that various council members decided to use my band's time to make speeches about stuff. Hahahahahaha. We would play a song, and Menesini or Polleck or Hernandez would take the stage and stand in front of a mike and try to say something. They were unaware of the power of the power chord. Guitarists and drummers like to make little noises between songs. But those little noises, up on the stage, are pretty big noises. Bigger than, say, a person trying to talk.

One of the last Fourth of July events I played featured the newly-formed Jim Caroompas Band (Cary Griffin, RIP), and we were just rocking along. It was very hot outside, and my ex-wife was hanging around for some reason. Out in the crowd, a woman in a purple belly-dancing outfit was walking around, looking very strange. After the gig was over, I was talking to my ex-wife, and she was just obsessed with the girl in purple out in the crowd. "Do you see that woman? Jeez, what is wrong with her? She looks so strange in that outfit on a day like this."

My look told her everything.

"That is not your new girlfriend. Is it?"

Well, it wasn't for long, not after that. But the point is, those kinds of special moments can only happen at a Fourth of July party at the Waterfront. And now the party is over. Long live the party. And have a happy, and safe (and if you live in Martinez, boring) Fourth of July, everyone...