Heavy Metal

 

And the rocket's red glare,

The bombs bursting in air,

Gave proof through the night,

That our flag was still there..

The Star-Spangled Banner, Frances Scott Key

The lyrics of our national anthem, sung before the first pitch of every MLB game, come from Defence of Fort McHenry, a poem written in 1814 by the then 35-year-old lawyer and amateur poet, after witnessing the bombardment of Fort McHenry by the British Royal Navy in Chesapeake Bay during in the War of 1812. One day, I hope soon, we won't need illumination from weaponry for living proof of our freedom or bravery.

It's raining again this morning at Mount Royal Station, where we have been stationed for a gig Thursday at MICA, the Maryland Institute College of Art. The SLR crew had planned to depart last evening and rendez-vous with the marchers, but the ranger and park police of our anticipated destination had other ideas. So we stayed put, which was fine with me. Everybody's Kitchen shuttled dinner back to us, consisting of a really yummy kale and potato soup, cole slaw and wonderful Boston Brown bread.

This area of Baltimore, Bolton Hill, has some serious street cred. In 1826, the Maryland Institute for the Promotion of Mechanical Arts was established to ready young men for the unfolding Industrial Revolution. A year later, the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad was chartered as the first passenger train. With the most-inland harbor and an east to west rail, Baltimore was now poised and positioned to capitalize on the burgeoning Westward Expansion. As aficionados of Monopoly know, the B&O stop on the board is one of four railroads, the others being the Pennsylvania, the Reading and the Short Line. Speaking of which, passing Go and collecting $200 would come in handy just about now.

The B&O no longer stops at Mount Royal Station, however the Romanesque and Renaissance-styled, Maryland-granite and Indiana limestone-trimmed station, completed in 1896, is now home to MICA studios. The train barrels through every 20 to 30 minutes, night and day, and it must be the little boy in me that thrills at the sight, sound and undeniable power of a locomotive pulling the building blocks of industry into the future. Meanwhile inside the renovated station's studios future artists of America wield power of their own with welding torches. The juxtaposition of these two images is worthy of a Carl Sandburg poem, a Diego Rivera mural, and a Nine Inch Nails song. Combined.

As I am putting the finishing touches on this entry, Joseph Wilhelm comes into the Jessup, Maryland, Starbucks where I have commandeered the ADA accessible table (not to worry, I'll move, if needed). Wilhelm and the marchers have stopped at MOM's (Mom's Organic Market), a shining example of what a health food store in the age of sustainability consciousness ought to look like. Scott Nash, founder and owner, started the venture in his garage with $100. They only sell organic produce (none imported from China), eliminated plastic bags (long before anybody was even talking about it), and stopped carrying bottled water (even though doing so cut into their profit margin).

I offer to buy Wilhelm a cup of coffee. He won't hear of it. He excitedly relates some promising news - a German reporter interviewed him earlier today at length about the issue we are attempting to bring to the fore. The piece is slated to be broadcast in Germany and around the world. Whether it will reach an American audience is questionable. With only two days to go before Sunday's 12:30 PM rally at the White House, our limelight dimmed by Occupation America, we could use some prime time coverage.

Where are those pyrotechnics when you need 'em?