Big & Rich -- "8th of November" (2005)

On the 8th of November 

The angels were crying 

As they carried his brothers away 

Big & Rich's Comin' to Your City album, which includes the "8th of November," was released almost 40 years to the day after the Vietnam War battle that is the subject of the song.

The 173rd Airborne Brigade -- the first major U.S. Army combat unit to be deployed to Vietnam -- arrived there in May 1965, and participated in over 50 combat operations before returning to the U.S. six years later.

The "Sky Soldiers" had a peak strength of about 3000 soldiers.  I don't know how many different men served in the 173rd in the six years it fought in Vietnam, but 1736 died there.  The Brigade's soldiers were awarded 13 Medals of Honor and over 6000 Purple Hearts.

On the 8th of November, 1965, units of the 173rd were conducting a search-and-destroy operation code named "Operation Hump" about 30 miles northeast of Saigon.

Companies B and C of the 1st Battalion were ambushed by some 1200 Viet Cong troops the morning of the 8th.  The Americans repelled the attacks, and the Viet Cong eventually withdrew into the jungle.

Some 48 Americans were killed, and many more wounded.  The official estimate of the enemy's casualties was 400 dead, although some believe it was twice that number.

One of the wounded was Niles Harris, a friend of Big & Rich.  He was one of a group of 30 soldiers who were isolated during part of the battle.  

Harris met Big & Rich (a/k/a/ "Big Kenny" Alphin and John Rich) when the duo were performing in Deadwood, South Dakota in 2003.  The three men shared a beer or two that night, and Harris showed the musicians around the Black Hills the next day.  He told them about his Vietnam experience, and they were inspired to write a song about it.

Niles Harris with Big & Rich

Harris was a typical infantry soldier of that era:

Said goodbye to his momma

As he left South Dakota 

To fight for the red, white and blue 

He was 19 and green

With a new M-16 

Just doing what he had to do 

Here's the song's description of how November 8 began for Harris:

He was dropped in the jungle

Where the choppers would rumble 

With the smell of napalm in the air 

And the sergeant said,

"Look up ahead!" 

The 1200 enemy soldiers descended on Harris and his comrades "like a dark, evil cloud." 

With the fire raining down

And the hell all around 

There were few men left standing that day 

An M-16 rifle

Harris was 58 when the song was written, some four decades after that battle.  Every 8th of November, he pays tribute to the men of the 173rd who died that day:

He puts on a gray suit

Over his Airborne tattoo 

And he ties it on one time a year 

And remembers the fallen

As he orders a tall one 

And swallows it down with his tears 

"8th of November" may be "awkwardly jingoistic," as one reviewer described it.  It's also sentimental and manipulative and mawkish.  

But I don't mind any of that a bit.  Anytime I'm on a bike ride to Lake Needwood and "8th of November" pops up on my iPod, I hit the repeat button at least three or four times -- and I sing along to the chorus at the top of my lungs.  

Here's "8th of November" (featuring Niles Harris):

Click here to order the song from Amazon:

Big & Rich -- "Slow Motion" (2005)

Oh-h-h, I'm breaking in slow motion Oh-h-h, how did it hit me so fast? It hurts so bad, it hurts so bad

I don't think National Indulge in Self-Pity Month has an official song.  So I'm nominating Big & Rich's "Slow Motion."  (Country is definitely the most self-pitying popular music genre, and "Slow Motion" is an excellent example of a self-pitying country song.)

Gotcha!  Silly rabbit, there's no such thing as National Indulge in Self-Pity Month! But there is National Indulge in Self-Pity Week, and we are right in the middle of it.

Gotcha again!  Actually, there's no such thing as National Indulge in Self-Pity Week either.  But if there were, 2 or 3 lines would be an excellent choice as its official blog.  

This post is explicitly about self-pity.  But it's certainly not the only 2 or 3 lines post to be saturated with self-pity.  Self-pity is one of the things that 2 or 3 lines does best -- don't you agree?  That's no surprise.  After all, being self-absorbed is another one of the other things 2 or 3 lines does best, and it's only one small step from self-absorption to self-pity.

This song popped up on the ol' sentient iPod this morning when I was taking a walk along San Diego Bay.  I was already in a self-pitying state of mind, and this song was like getting an injection of self-pity epinephrine after self-pity-induced cardiac arrest.

I hit the "repeat" button a half-dozen times or so before I got back to my hotel.  I don't know the exact number because I was too consumed with you-know-what to keep track.  (Self-pity demands your full attention -- you can't count and completely give yourself over to self-pity at the same time.) 

"Slow Motion" is from Big & Rich's second album, Comin' to Your City, which was released in 2005.  It wouldn't be a bad official song for National Anxiety and Depression Awareness Week.  This verse in particular captures the mental paralysis that is characteristic of depression:

Feels like I'm frozen in a dream I can't run, can't even scream I'm trying to fight but I can't get my fist up How does somebody get so messed up? Edvard Munch's "The Scream" But National Anxiety and Depression Awareness Week was May 6-12 this year, and I didn't want to wait almost a whole year for it to roll around again.  So I made up National Indulge in Self-Pity Week as an excuse to write about "Slow Motion."

I understand that not all of you allow yourselves to wallow in self-pity.  In fact, you may find displays of self-pity pathetic and disgusting.  If so, you will enjoy Jo Dee Messina's song, "My Give a Damn's Busted."  It's an excellent choice the next time a friend or acquaintance tries to suck you into his or her self-pity party:

You can say you've got issues

You can say you're a victim . . .

Maybe somebody else's got time to listen

My give a damn's busted

Here's "Slow Motion":

Click here to buy "Slow Motion" from Amazon:

Big & Rich -- "Live This Life" (2004)

Met a man on the street last night

Said his name was Jesus . . .

Thought he was crazy 

'Til I watched him heal a blind man

Watched him heal a blind man 

Now I see

The late Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart once said that while he couldn't define hard-core pornography, "I know it when I see it."  

I think I know a good song when I hear one.  But if you asked me to explain precisely what makes a song a good song, I couldn't do it. 

I don't judge songs based on politics or morality.  There are a lot of songs that are politically wrongheaded or morally repugnant that I think are good songs -- and vice versa, of course.

But one criterion I do apply to songs is authenticity.  Does the singer really believe in what he or she is singing?  

Big & Rich

I have a problem with phoniness and insincerity.  I'm not put off by bad-ass singers unless they are only pretending to be bad-ass for effect.  And while I'm a sucker for sentimental songs about kids or dogs or teenagers in love, I think cynical attempts to capitalize upon the average person's basic good-heartedness for the purpose of selling records are despicable.

I don't know enough about Big Kenny Alphin and John Rich ("Big & Rich") to know if "Live This Life" is sincere and truly from the heart or not.  But I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that Big & Rich believe in angels and an afterlife -- or at least they want to believe in angels and an afterlife -- despite the fact that the duo is most famous for their rather lewd and lascivious single, "Save A Horse (Ride a Cowboy)," which was on the very same album as "Live This Life."

That's because I find the same combination of incongruous characteristics in my own personality.  I may spend a lot of time contemplating my life and trying to become a better person, but I also spend a lot of time posting pictures like this one:

The first verse of this song is quoted at the beginning of this post.  You do get that the singer of the song is the blind man who now can see, don't you?  Or do I have to draw you a picture?  (That man he met on the street last night was telling the truth -- he really was Jesus.)

Next, the singer encounters a girl in a wheelchair:

Met a girl in a chair with wheels

But no one else would see her

Met a girl in a chair with wheels

Everyone was so afraid

To even look down on her

And she just spread her little wings

And flew away

Read those lines carefully.  After meeting Jesus, the singer is no longer blind, so he sees the girl in the wheelchair.  Everyone else is blind because they've chosen to be blind -- as the singer says, "No one else would see her."

But the girl is not troubled by her affliction.  The singer has been cured of his blindness, and the girl in the wheelchair has been cured of her disability as well -- she has discovered that she has wings, and can fly.

In the third verse, the singer meets a young man contemplating suicide -- or, in the words of the song, "contemplating freedom":

Met a kid on a bridge last night

Contemplating freedom

Met a kid on a bridge last night

And he said

"I'm tired of this maddening life

And I'm ready to go meet Jesus"

And I said 

"He's a friend of mine

Met him just last night"

The chorus that follows each of the song's three verses is simple but powerful:

I'll live this life 

Until this life 

Won't let me live here anymore

Then I will walk 

Yes, I will walk

With patience through that open door

I have no fears, 

Angels follow me wherever I may go

I live this life 

Until this life

Won't let me live here anymore

I wish that I could join the singer and say that "I have no fears."  Unfortunately, I'm a long way from there.  And to be perfectly honest, my fears may be increasing in strength as I get older -- not diminishing.  I guess I need to work on that. 

Here's "Live That Life":

Click here to buy the song from Amazon: