"Have a Cigar" by Pink Floyd
Written by Roger WatersProduced by Pink Floyd
Released on Wish You Were Here (September 12, 1975)
Released as a single on November 15, 1975
amazon spotify iTunes
Note: this post has two parts. Part I is about the song. Part II is about a protest march I took part in that became a national news story. I will not be offended if you read one part but not the other. I just felt like I needed to document what I experienced, and this seemed like the easiest way to do it.
Part I: The Song
As a young teenager first diving into the world of classic rock, the line "...and by the way, which one's Pink?" seemed like the most clever lyric ever written. The band is Pink Floyd, but none of the members had that name. Didn't this guy realize that?
"Have a Cigar" is currently my favorite Pink Floyd song. As part of the Wish You Were Here album, it tells the story of a band being courted by a sleazy record executive from the perspective of the executive (famously sung by Roy Harper who was not a member of the band). If not for the existence of Biz Markie (who you'll meet later in the list), this satirical masterpiece would probably be the closest thing to a "funny" song on my top 100.
What really helped me fall in love with "Have a Cigar" was the outro guitar solo. David Gilmour is a master. Most people would rate his solo on "Comfortably Numb" as his best (some even go so far as to rate it as the greatest guitar solo of all time). It's hard to argue with that assessment, but this solo is magical in its own way.
As the song and the guitar solo comes to an end, rather than a traditional fade out, the band added an effect that essentially warped this from a hi-fi stereo recording to something that sounded like it was coming through the worst, tinniest single speaker in existence. All of a sudden the listener is hearing the song on the radio on the radio (if that makes sense). If you listen to the album, when the track ends, it sounds like they literally just changed the radio dial in search of something new.
To me, a young teenager diving into the world of classic rock, this was a brand new level of brilliance. I was no longer simply listening to a song, I was a part of a larger experience. Concept albums don't always work, but Pink Floyd had figured out some secret to making everything come together. Pink Floyd is the perfect music for a teenager looking for meaning and relevance in the music they are listening to. The first time listening to one of their albums feels like joining a secret club of cool, smart people. I don't pretend to be cool or smart, but there is a special, magical, powerful feeling that comes from that experience.
Being introduced to Pink Floyd's music for the first time felt important. That is why I know that Pink Floyd's music will be around a lot longer than I will. I know I'm not the first teenager who dove into Pink Floyd's catalog with a sense of awe and wonder, and I know I won't be the last.
Right now, "Have a Cigar" by Pink Floyd is (probably) my 65th favorite song of all time.
Part II: The Protest
Since the killing of George Floyd, I have felt the need to do my part to support the Black Lives Matter movement. For a number of reasons, I did not march or actively participate during the protests that followed the killing of Michael Brown in Ferguson in 2014. There were a few times I thought about driving up to Ferguson to see what was happening, but I ultimately decided not to. I wasn't sure I would end up being more than an observer, and that's not what was needed. What was needed then, and is still needed now, are people ready to be change agents and people willing to exercise their first amendment rights to protest a system that disproportionately targets and punishes minorities.
I am still trying to figure out my place and purpose in this struggle. I have now participated in three protest marches this summer in the St. Louis area. The first was a march organized by local students that went through some of the wealthier suburbs in west St. Louis county. Some people I worked with were there too. The next was a march in St. Charles that I went to with a couple of colleagues and a few of my students. Most recently I marched in the Central West End neighborhood of St. Louis city. For this march I was alone.
All three marches were largely peaceful. During the first march, many of the houses and businesses we passed were holding up signs of support and handing out water and snacks (including, I'm proud to say, my employer). During the march in St. Charles, the group made their way towards the highway and were greeted by about 50 police officers in full riot gear. Counting them and the other officers that were around, it felt like every single cop in St. Charles county had been called down to the protest. I even saw the SWAT team van. There was never a confrontation. The police stopped the traffic on that side of the highway, while the protesters stayed on the exit ramp. Eventually, the protest march turned around and headed back.
I definitely felt uncomfortable during that march when we were on the exit ramp by the highway. I stayed at the top of the exit ramp because I did not know what might happen at the front, and did not want to be caught in the middle of a potential confrontation. Also because there were additional police officers staging themselves on the other side of the exit ramp, it looked like they could have boxed us in. The police did not do anything like that, but this was a very new experience for me. I really didn't know what to expect or what to do. I am still very grateful for the protest organizers who kept things peaceful. I don't think I am ready to thank the police though. Their show of force did not help the situation. I understand why they wanted to keep the protesters off the highway, but the size and scope of their response seemed like overkill. I still baffles me how many instances we continue to see of police around the country responding to protests against excessive police force by using excessive force.
I was grateful for the people I knew who were with me. One of my colleagues helped put me at ease, and they also did a good job of keeping our students out of harms way and away from any potential confrontation. When I wanted to leave early, they were ultimately right in staying and helping keep me there too. The protesters wanted to be heard, and they were. Us leaving or staying didn't make a difference in the grand scheme, but my worst fears were never realized. Staying and being a part of that voice for justice and equality (even being in the back and out of the way) was a good thing.
So, last night I went to join a protest in the city. A couple of days ago, the mayor had read the names and addresses of a handful of activists while giving an address live online (using Facebook Live). While she did not do anything technically illegal, what she did was almost certainly not right. Vocal activists have been targeted in the past with death threats and violence. Giving potential bad actors easy access to activists' personal information is dangerous. The mayor apologized and took the video down, but the damage was done.
As a computer science teacher, this hit me hard. Part of what I teach is the responsible use of technology. Too many politicians do not seem to understand modern technology. This is true of politicians from all political parties. We still have people in Washington who somehow seem proud of the fact that they don't know how to use a desktop computer or how to send an email. It's sheer incompetence. The world is evolving rapidly, and we need representatives at all levels of government who understand modern technologies.
So, I felt the need to take part. This was a relatively small protest (about 400 people). We started in the commercial district in the Central West End with the goal of making our way to the mayor's residence. We started marching that way down Kingshighway where we were joined by another group of protesters. I had decided to stay near the back of the group in an effort to better practice social distancing. (I learned that this is not the best strategy since that's where the smokers hang out too.)
On our way down, I saw protesters turning onto a private gated community. I have been down in this area before and there are some private streets with public sidewalks that I have walked down before. This particular street is not that. Protesters had to break through a closed, locked gate to access the street. (Edit: It should be noted that the gate was unlocked. Protesters simply opened the gate and entered. After the fact, photos emerged showing that the gate had been broken, but all video evidence I have seen does not show protesters breaking the gate to enter the neighborhood. I was not close enough to see this at the time, so when I wrote this section, I simply parroted what was being reported immediately following the protest.) I was unsure about what was happening when someone behind me started yelling about a gun. I was still on Kingshighway, and I looked over the wall to see a man with an AR-15 style rifle standing on the porch of his giant mansion. I also saw a woman running around in front of the mansion pointing and yelling at protesters who were now on their street in front of their giant stone home. Because of where I was standing, I did not realize until later that this woman was pointing at them with a gun, finger on the trigger.
I was immediately afraid for the protesters. I assumed that because they were on a private street, they could be considered trespassers, and Missouri's Stand Your Ground laws could protect this armed couple if something happened. It was also very clear that this couple were not responsible gun owners. If you watch any of the videos taken by protesters, neither of the people holding the guns seemed to know how to properly handle the weapons they were brandishing. At various times, they both pointed their guns at each other without realizing what they were doing.
I still struggle to imagine why either of them thought it was wise to set foot outside their home at all. Their home is a giant stone building. They put themselves, their property, and everyone else in more danger just by stepping outside and mishandling their weapons. I am grateful that no one was hurt, but the more I revisit what I saw and watch the videos, I wonder how something didn't go horribly wrong.
I am privileged to say that I have never had a gun pointed at me. But when the man on the porch leveled his rifle towards the ground, even though I was behind a stone wall, and the gun was not pointed in my direction, I still felt my stomach drop. It was a sickening feeling. Even though I felt like I was out of harms way, many others were not. Yes, the protesters should not have damaged the gate, but the response from this couple was excessive and wrong. It only escalated the situation. They clearly wanted to assert their power, but they ended up looking like foolish children because of how they mishandled their chosen tools.
It was at that point that I realized that this was only a small group of protesters turning down this side street. Most of the group had continued up Kingshighway to the next intersection. I did not feel the need to have a gun pointed at me, so I left that road behind and joined the organizers at the front of the march who were making their way on a safer route to the mayor's house.
We stayed outside the mayors house for a while chanting and protesting. Eventually the barriers that had been put up in front of her house were taken down, but things stayed peaceful. My mom attends a church in that neighborhood. When I talked to her after I got home, she mentioned that the cars that are usually outside the mayor's house were gone. It seems that the mayor wasn't even at home while we were there.
Eventually the protest moved on. I marched on for another couple of blocks before turning around to get my car and go home. When I walked by the mayor's house again, I saw that some people were setting up stencils to paint the word "RESIGN" in big block letters in the street in front of her house.
At this point I am unsure whether I will participate in a protest march again. When I first decided to attend, I had hoped that maybe I could be a peaceful influence. Maybe my presence could help to deescalate and keep things from turning violent and confrontational. After participating, I realized that while I generally am even-keeled and am good at handling somewhat stressful situations, this was something else entirely. Whether it was seeing the police display in St. Charles or that couple with their guns in the city, I was left somewhat frozen. It was too much for me to handle, and I felt helpless to find a way to be helpful in either situation.
Unfortunately, even as I have marched and chanted and listened during these marches, I still feel like more of an observer than an active participant. I feel separate and distanced.
I still very much support what people are marching for. Yes, too many people are killed by the police. Yes, too many of those victims are people of color. Yes, systemic racism needs to be eradicated from our communities, our country, and the world. Yes, the militarization of the police has gotten out of hand. Yes, we need to redistribute money towards social work, education, drug treatment, and rehabilitation efforts. I will continue to ask for these things and support those working to make that kind of change happen. Silence is compliance. I don't want to be just a casual observer on the side, but I feel even less sure of how to do that effectively.
This is not a show. This is not an event. This is real people dying and putting their lives on the line for what is right. Going along for the ride to watch the show is not enough either. I'm still trying to figure out what I can do. I hope anyone reading this is too.
