Thang Nguyen 555

With Nixon’s Vietnamizing the war, we felt rumbles on the street.

What it is, ain’t exactly clear.

In the air and airwaves and at outdoor concerts (if any – with air troopers provided security). Vibrations in Haight Street sent shock waves to the streets of Saigon “If you’re going to San Francisco…be sure to wear some flowers in your hair”.

Flower stickers on cars, notebooks, desks, walls and toilet and over “Cam Dai” (Do not pee), where normally got peed over a zillion times – watering ” strawberry field forever” while our life was just fleeting. Flowers found their ways along with rhythms of the rain into our lyrics e.g. “wish we could live like flowers “. A sense of dread loomed large. The wage of sin and the weight of destruction with no reconstruction (might as well drop the atomic, then at least we would be better off on par with today’s Japan).

It was as if someone had pressed “fast forward”, a time lapse. An entire generation, born and grew up in escalated war (the day of Peace, was the day I saw the 7th fleet up close, yet it was ordered to stand down and was present for a show of force to assist with evac) stoically “as tears go by” e.g. napalm girl and burning monk, bullets to the others and to one’s self (or catholic cross suicidal shoots).

My escape was to the cinema: Ten Years After, Jimmy Hendrix and Carlos Santana: “A whole new generation…with a new explanation” – watching clips of Upstate “Eden” e.g. nude in mud slide on silver screen. Naturally, mesmerized and transfixed, I reconciled and processed two opposing realities (guns vs guitars – and later, in the US, X-rated and churches next to each other).

Confucianism, Colonialism, Catholicism, Communism, Capitalism and Consumerism. What’s all those isms had to do with my French conjugation and my dad’s concubines? “Imagine all the people…and the world will be One”. “I was feeling insecure…..”.

A few years earlier, my puppy – love neighbor joined a new group, the Apples Three, Vietnamese version of the Ronettes (Be My Baby). We folded Rock and Roll under our tent. She could sing with sparks in her eyes: “…Said you’ll be back this way again oh baby.” like a superstar she was “Long ago, it seems so far away”.

My last glimpse was when she got scootered off sitting with both legs on one side (our very own Natalie Wood, in This Property is Condemned, born on the wrong side of the track yet boarded a one-way train to the Big Easy to join Robert Redford).

At an early age, she was swept by the dollar surge at fever pitch, found at a go go club. Our society morphed from ballroom to barhopping, dong to dollar, French Legionaries to US G.I.’s. Madame to Mommy (“you, G.I.’s, ‘beaucoup dien cai dau!’”)

Cultural transition takes time. French was still officially spoken (Chinese, Vietnamese – Nom then Quoc Ngu – French then English) at an all-boys catholic high, the like of La San Taber with auditorium at full capacity during pre-show. Girls in short skirts (down the block at an all-girls Gia Long High, with Ao Dai as required etiquette) and guys in unbuttoned waistcoats.

The crowd kept surging and occupying the “colonial” prime real estate under the Principle/Priests’ watching eyes.

John Lennon’s glasses, shaggy hair, long hair, and all hair with Geronimo’s head bands. Relieved that the situation was under control, the stern priest’s self-congratulation was short-lived …” Imagine….and no religion too”. Uh Oh!

After Woodstock the movie, I did not need further inducement: “Come on people now, smile on your brother everybody gets together “How could I not follow the track and trail of upperclassmen? “He ain’t heavy, he is my brother” …to ace the audition with our school band – all seniors. They made an exception for me trailing behind in middle-school.

Hit-Parade Chart listed California Dreaming and Don’t Let Me Down (stirring) while Dona Dona or Dream, Dream (settling) still lingered along with predecessors: Que Sera Sera as French gave ways to English, francs the dollars, vinyl Akai.

“I hope someday you’ll join us…” Indeed Filipino, Indonesian, and American bands (“We come to your town, We’re American Band” proudly sang the Filippino band (American wannabes) at outdoor venues. Talking about the global impact of rock. I remember wowing at how free Woodstock was (a crowd shot, showing one black guy standing and dancing amidst a sea of shirtless white fast widest zoom out). But while still at war, “you can’t always get what you want”. Alright, “time is on our side” then.

Up State saw Jimmy Hendrix trespassed the color line just like Elvis down South. Army-surplus goods at flea markets, British-Invasion over the air (“Reflections of my life” oh I don’t want to die.)

While humming “Who are you… tutu tutu” we still had to choose: learning delays the draft (or end up in a flag-draped coffin like my next-door neighbor). Similarly, hard choices were facing counterparts across the lakes of Canada. A perfect storm of Rock and Roll, Television and the hot war over (cool medium). To bomb or not to bomb.

In each house hung a picture of our President – one assassinated, the other fled. Anthem played at 6 pm on TV Channel 9 – the whole of South VN awaited in front of the set, watching studio staff calibrate the color bars i.e. Indian head for our B/W broadcast (studio petite flag the size seen at ticker-tape parade, flapping with the help of a studio fan. So much for illusion of “cool medium” magic).

They blocked out except CNN during the first Iraq war.

We believed what we were told. One official version. Few opposing views e.g. “Song” (Life) dailies whose editor Chu Tu got later blown up in front of our eyes. He did not make it out of Saigon.

“Nous irons au coeur du monde…” Mopping up after their WWII predecessors, boots were in knee-deep waters (China Beach). The international press corps showed up at Star Wars intergalactic bar: China, Soviet Union, France, Britain, Japan, US, US allies Korean, Australian, Netherlander, Filipino, Thailand, Polish/Iranian peace observers, Agence France Press, Le monde, UPI, API, Newsweek, TIME, NYT, Washington Post and of course, the Big Three whose anchors didn’t even care to put on long pants (stand up medium shots).

All fought then faded. All spent: Billions in bombs (400X Hiroshima) and Millions in lives (neutral Cambodian too).

P.S. per classified documents, they diverted directions in-flight to bomb next door (Cambodia), then doctored same sit reports as bombing and billing for Vietnam targets. (Declassified Operation Breakfast.)

No flowers no stickers.

On marked or unmarked mass graves.

Cry, my beloved country.

Something happened.

What it is, ain’t exactly clear.

Confucianism, Colonialism, Catholicism, Communism, Capitalism, and Consumerism; without a “new explanation”.

Choppers and children behind.

Unlike 3 days of Tet the year before, those 3 days of Peace & Music – with Michael Lang (his Vietnamese equivalent, Truong Ky – our first Rock event organizer) saw crowd crashing his concert. “It’s beautiful,” he said.” Now that they are here, we have to feed them…we have to prioritize.” (direct quote).

Woodstock came alive as I revisit it from “both sides now”; for the living and the dead (3.4 million to be exact) I’d put on Joe Cocker’s: “You are so beautiful…, to me” to end on a high note (with director ‘s cut of Upstate nude in the mud / SVN naked under napalm on split screen).

From time to time, I still am “looking for a heart of gold, …and I’m getting old”.

…” Long ago, it seems so far away… said you’ll be coming back this way again baby”.

Just a jealous guy!

Don’t blame me, at that age, in that place, with that dream. Not when they scootered her away and “never back this way again”.

Amidst vietnamizing this, vietnamizing that, we felt the rumbles not just in Haight Street but also in our street..