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Vance’sAcousticPajamaParty #198 - LIVE FROM OSWEGO, NY


When: Monday nite 2/26 7:30pm ET


Who gets 10%: ACLU BOSTON

Order the CD or pay for this web groovery via: or or
VanceFunder P.O. Box 17, Arlington, MA 02476.
Pay what you like


2/23 - Manchester, NH - The Rex Theatre -
2/24 - Oswego, NY - Oswego Music Hall -
2/29 - New London, NH - Flying Goose Pub - LAST MINUTE ADDITION - SUBBING FOR ARI HEST
Im nearby, got the night free so i said “YES”...
3/1 - Marblehead, MA - Me&Thee Coffeehouse -



Seeing the videos of those mask-emboldened Neo-Nazis walk down Nashville's street reminds me of my first Klan rally.
Yep, it was circa 1982 when they came to “speak” on the Boston Common. Me and my girlfriend at the time - a grey-eyed mini-Marilyn Monroe look-alike singer we’ll call, sure, Marilyn, who was not really particularly politically astute, went to stand on the environs like one might do to watch a hurricane or a train wreck. I had no plans to counter-protest, as I was going out of disbelief that it was really happening. What I gathered on the trolley ride down was that the extent of her knowledge of the Klan was that they were bad and that she “hated prejudicy (sic)”.

Well, they came out onto the stage, they were crowd-shouted down, they retreated, the police rushed the crowd on horseback, people ran, all the things you’d imagine in the midst of escalation and dispersal. What struck me most was not the knot in my stomach and the burning behind my eyes at seeing the Klan live where I had just seen Al Jarreau scat live but a few months before, but the soprano howl that evolved from Marilyn. I’ll never forget the sound. Have you ever heard the sound of someone finally getting their full mourn on for a dead loved one? Imagine that studio mixed with a Doberman’s full attack growl and you’re about 1/2 there. Spittle too.

You never know where your ally lives until you hear the sound they make.

So Wednesday when I sat in that court holding hall waiting to be called up for impanelment I wondered about the people around me. This room of folks that absolutely had to be here. These integral parts of this court system that at first glance really were a pretty diverse batch of folks. Still, how many of them had eggs for breakfast? How many sported COVID? How many served in Iraq? How many of them would just as well hide their faces behind masks the next day and espouse their beliefs of other people being lesser than?

And how would I be if I knew and I was impaneled with one of them in a trial? Could I try to see what they are lacking and love them, kindly and socratically realign them? Could I muster enough car battery out of my own 65 year old heart to play my internal 8-track of The Best Of Judeo-Christian Buddhist Goodness and love them no matter what? I’d like to think I’d try. I know I’d feel better if i did. No matter who they are. No matter what.

There are days I want to howl like Marilyn. And there are days where I know where my allies live. Right here.