The narrative started a decade or so ago when Chief Yodeling Bear of the oldest Indian tribe in the city stepped up to become warrior for truth and freedom, hunting and feasting on life, government, love, death, family, politics at iba pa in the wonderful paradise of print media.
This was the hello! The inspiration was the aphorism from John 8:31-32: “The truth will set you free.”
The world centered on charivaried, a Criminal Law term from the Middle Ages and French folk-custom-tradition. It was a noisy mock serenade for newlyweds, a form of social coercion to force an as-yet unmarried couple to wed or worse mock an unpopular person.
People of the tribe would gather around to “celebrate” a marriage, usually one they regard as questionable. They would gather outside the window of the couple with a series of discordant noises using drums, bang-metal-implements or other items to create noise in order to keep the couple awake all night.
Later it became a form of protest against socially disapproved marriages for example the marriage of widows who marry before completing the acceptable period of mourning. Much later the protest was against despots, dictators, and politicians who were either or both.
Charivari was also known as “riding the stang”, a ritual in which a person (typically a woman) accused of scolding, beating, otherwise abusing the male or belittling those who married but could not consummate their marriage. She is made to “ride the stang”, where the squaw would be placed backwards on a horse and paraded through the tribes and mocked at.
Charivari in the Penal Code concept talks of discordant noise and cacophony which disturbs the peace and aggravates crimes. My Silent Night Ordinance is the weapon at hand to keep the peace.
Charivari, the written word, dwelled on “noises” that affect the lives and loves of the city, its community and people with much banging and bell-ringing a series of discordant opinions.
So, for 10 years or so, “Charivari(Ed)” churned out joyous and sometimes sad commentaries.
With about 514 pieces of stories that were emitted from my little brain, tales, legends, laughter, and sometimes sorrow, of whatever source, kind or nature have been stowed forever in the hearts and minds of those who read and understood. Thus, writing as a daily fabric of life goes on.
Once in a while one gets “writer’s block”, but perseverance or grittiness would make him discover something meaningful for the hour and lo and behold churn out 750 words about the lucky streak. This has kept me and will keep me going until then. One or two hit the target right on the dot and “Custer of the West”, the nemesis of the Indian Navajos and his mob would react violently and swear to the high heavens praying for the untimely departure of Yodeling Bear from the tribal Earth into the happy hunting grounds!
All in all, though, it was a good run but as the song goes, “I guess when reality steps in, the dreaming ends. We live for the future, learn from the past (but) no matter how hard we try, some good things never last.”
Sigh.
May 17, 2024
