So, I'm running the vacuum cleaner today on my day off, and I'm listening to a podcast as I work. An episode of WNYC's "Radio Lab," on "pop music."
I listen to the whole program and the very last story is by a reporter named Greg Warner. Greg was a former rowing teammate and clasmate at Yale. He's a lovely guy. Sweet. Intelligent. I had last seen Greg at a friend's wedding last summer, where we talked at length about Greg's decision to spend some time in Afghanistan.
The story Greg tells is lovely--about how Greg brought his accordian to Afghanistan and how music led him to unearth a really amazing tale of a famous Afghan musician. I am totally drawn in. Then, at the very end, Greg tells an amazing story about being in the middle of BFE Afghanistan at a music concert when he was suddenly asked to go up on stage and play for the crowd. Greg is not a good accordianist, mind you. And yet, he gets up on stage in front of a hall full of 300 rough and tumble regular-guy Afghanis.
What could he possibly play in front of such a crowd that would connect across the vast cultural divide between him and his audience?
Johnny Cash. Ring of Fire. On the accordian. In Afghanistan.
When Greg hits the chorus, 300 Afghanis go nuts.
Maybe you have to know Greg to find this amusing. But maybe not:
who would have thought the answer to diplomacy was johnny cash? It proves my long held thought that good music in universal.
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