New York Times  Bestselling Author

For What it's Worth

Once a week, I play acoustic guitar with a casual group of musicians. We have an energetic leader who is gifted at keeping us on track, and we play mostly rock and roll with some country thrown in. We take turns picking songs from the songbook we use, and we all strum and sing. I’ve played weekly for a few years now. I’m not good, but it’s my only diversion from writing and I love losing myself in the music for an evening.

One of the first songs we played last week was the Beatles’ “Eight Days a Week”. As we played, it suddenly occurred to me that I was the only person there who was old enough to have been to a Beatles concert.

“Hey,” I said, when we’d finished the song. “I’m the only person in this room old enough to have seen the Beatles live.”

That got a chuckle.

Then we played a song we play nearly every week: “For What it’s Worth”. You may not recognize the title, but you would recognize the ominous lyrics and eerie melody. There’s something happening here, but what it is ain’t exactly clear. . .

“Hey,” I said when the selection was announced. “I’m the only person in this room old enough to have sung this song during a protest march.”

Another chuckle, somewhat muted.

We sing this song nearly every week. As we sang it this time, I wondered what meaning the lyrics had to my fellow guitarists. I recalled marching in Trenton, New Jersey, protesting the Vietnam War with my fellow students while that song played on our transistor radios, the haunting lyrics resonating deep in our hearts and minds. Although Stephen Stills was inspired to write “For What it’s Worth” by a different protest (teenagers fighting a 1966 curfew in Los Angeles), to those of us in our teens and early twenties back then, the song quickly came to represent our anguish about the entire Vietnam era. Paranoia strikes deep. My male friends were waiting for the draft lottery, hoping and praying their birthdates wouldn’t be assigned to a number that would send them overseas to fight for their lives in a war they didn’t believe in under the leadership of a president they distrusted and despised. As we sang the song in our guitar circle, I was flooded by memories of those times and those marches and the feeling so many of us had of a desperate need to make our voices heard in an effort to bring about change. I was quickly too choked up to sing along, thinking of the recent protests in Charlottesville and other cities–protests that pitted good against evil and–in the case of Charlottesville–that ended in tragedy. I may no longer be able to put my body on the line, but I support in every other way the people brave enough to protest for equality and justice.

Toward the end of the evening, we played “Wild Horses” by the Rolling Stones. I was tempted to point out that I’d been to seven Stones concerts by the time I was eighteen. Instead, I took in a long, steadying breath and decided to simply enjoy the music.

 

9 Comments

  1. Lynne Hugo on August 18, 2017 at 5:52 pm

    Beautiful, Diane. I’m with you in the music as I was with you at the protests then, and am now, again.

  2. Candie on August 18, 2017 at 6:38 pm

    Sometimes it stinks to be the oldest person in the room. Other times, it’s fine. ☮️

  3. Brenda on August 18, 2017 at 8:09 pm

    Love your blog!!!
    Welcome back!!

  4. Marlene Rosol on August 18, 2017 at 9:38 pm

    As I sit here humming “For What It’s Worth,” and reminiscing about “my” Beatles concert held 52 years ago on August 15, I share your emotions. Different times, different issues, but the same fears. I am convinced we’ll get through these difficult times, and I remember how much the music of those days helped us. Thank you for your beautiful words.

  5. Patti on August 18, 2017 at 10:15 pm

    7 Stones concerts by the time you were 18! Wow!

  6. Robin Oratio on August 19, 2017 at 10:03 am

    I am usually the oldest person in the room, but wouldn’t give up the times and memories…seeing The Beatles, The Stones, Cream, Dave Clark 5, Creedence, Tull, Zeppelin, Mitch Ryder, The Who and so many more during their first concert dates. The Fillmore East, and so many other signs of the times will forever leave an imprint on so many people’s lives. But it was probably one of the best times to come of age and no music has been able to touch the hearts and souls the same way, ever since.

  7. Gerri on August 20, 2017 at 7:02 pm

    So BEAUTIFUL Diane!!! Glad you resurrected your blog!!!

  8. Karoline on September 24, 2017 at 5:07 pm

    I understand how you feel about strumming and singing, I belong to a ukulele band and find it very uplifting and a lot of fun. We also sing Beatles songs etc. but in our case we all remember them as we are all in our sixties or over (with even some 90 year olds!). I think playing music and singing definitely keeps you young and also brings back wonderful memories.
    I also love your books and have read nearly all of them. I recommended the lighthouse trilogy to my book club and they all enjoyed them as well.
    Please don’t stop writing!

    • Diane Chamberlain on September 24, 2017 at 5:10 pm

      How fun, Karoline! I hope I can continue strumming and singing for a long time to come, too. And thanks for spreading the word about my books!

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