Originally Posted by H G Griffin
Just got my ability to 'like'. You get the very first one, moose eater. I've enjoyed your posts here and in the covid threads.
I've long suspected you Alaskans are damn near good enough to be Canucks.
(cheers from Alberta)
Hope you and Mr Prine both are doing well.
Here's one of my favorites. He just has this ability to get to the very heart of whatever subject he writes about.
Take the Star Out of the Window
I'm honored, flattered, and humbled, H.G.
While I once traveled extensively & routinely over much of N. America, I lived briefly in the Yukon Territory in the later mid-1970s, before moving to Alaska, and staying a resident here for a variety of reasons. I now see the Yukon Territory far more frequently than I do the Lower-48 States.
Lots of Alberta has changed since the 1970s; just passed through Whitecourt, bringing up a vehicle for my wife from the SW US last February, 2019, and that whole stretch between Edmonton (explosion of urbania, extraordinaire), Whitecourt (that used to be a tiny sleepy burg, now over-run with oil workers and associated labor) Grand prairie, Ft. St. john, etc. Some places I could no longer recognize after years of using the Stewart-Cassiar Hwy down through B.C. instead of the Lower Alcan.
I've hitch-hiked across your Country many times in the 1970s and 1980s, including off-the-main-byway places, and ridden motorcycles, driven trucks and cars across there as well. Been addressed as 'Sir' by your RCMP on the sides of your highways, despite my pony tail, flower-patched bib overalls, etc. Versus sometimes having Lower-48 cops engage in all kinds of disrespect and expression of unfounded fear, such as pulling firearms when thumbing.
Before that, I lived on an off-grid homestead farm in the UP of Michigan; again close to Canada, across Lake Superior. John Prine's music, along with others in/of similar genre, featured prominently for the first time in my life, as I associated and lived among a small enclave of Vietnam vets from all branches of service, who, in disgust toward the Gov., society, et al., had joined the back-to-the-land movement of that time. One of them had taken me in when I was 16 y.o. and there as a result of leaving behind some drug-related legal tensions in SW Michigan.
The tune you linked to was a heartfelt tune among combat vets there, who'd turned to milling their own lumber, growing dope, their hair, beards, raising children, goats, pigs, chickens, sheep, ducks, bedding plants, and more. It would later be a favorite protest tune when appropriate.
"Take the star out of the window, and let my conscience take a rest."