SOCIAL STUDIES FOR ADULTS: A TRAVEL JOURNAL

Welcome to Social Studies for Adults, a new travel journal intended to replace Time and Place, my first and only blog for several years now. Social Studies for Adults: A Travel Journal (SSA-TJ or simply ‘the Journal’) will focus on travel as viewed through the kaleidoscope of social studies OR on social studies as experienced through travel. Take your pick.

The title was selected because Social Studies, the school subject, is our first exposure to the whole world and the complexity of its geography, history, politics, religions, cultures, and the environment. The subject is called social studies because it is the study of all aspects of society—and that’s what we get when we travel.

For adults was added because after middle school at the latest, social studies is broken into its component parts and—truth be told about our rickety public school system—barely taught at all! This blog is meant to tout life-long social studies learning, which takes place every time you read a book or newspaper, make a journey or pay attention to the world. You really should NOT vote unless you do some of that!

SSA-TJ is also for adults because I intend to be sarcastic and irreverent; badmouth various sects/beliefs/behaviors; include four-letter words when appropriate and probably way too many pictures of scenery (which kids hate and adults tolerate).

I’m launching this on the Fourth Fifth of July in honor of Woody Guthrie and the best patriotic song of all time, “This Land is Your Land,” which is also an excellent road trip song (along with Burl Ives “Big Rock Candy Mountain”)

The first few posts will recap my glorious epic road trip of early summer 2013 with the best travel companions ever—Teresa and Vivian. Even though I blogged on the road it’s hard to think of all of the clever things you might say when you’re planning and driving and checking in and out and looking for Dairy Queens and talking and taking pictures.

For now then…and your holiday weekend humming pleasure (if you’re a little bit old) here are the lyrics for those great American patriotic, protest, road songs!

THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND
words and music by Woody Guthrie

Chorus:
This land is your land, this land is my land
From California, to the New York Island
From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me

As I was walking a ribbon of highway
I saw above me an endless skyway
I saw below me a golden valley
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

I’ve roamed and rambled and I’ve followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
And all around me a voice was sounding
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

The sun comes shining as I was strolling
The wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling
The fog was lifting a voice come chanting
This land was made for you and me

Chorus

As I was walkin’ – I saw a sign there
And that sign said – no tress passin’
But on the other side …. it didn’t say nothin!
Now that side was made for you and me!

Chorus

In the squares of the city – In the shadow of the steeple
Near the relief office – I see my people
And some are grumblin’ and some are wonderin’
If this land’s still made for you and me.

Chorus (2x)

©1956 (renewed 1984), 1958 (renewed 1986) and 1970 TRO-Ludlow Music, Inc. (
BMI)

Big Rock Candy Mountain
Songwriters: TRADITIONAL/WANNBERG

Chorus:
Oh the buzzin’ of the bees in the cigarette trees
The soda water fountain where the lemonade springs
And the bluebird sings in that Big Rock Candy Mountain

On a summer day
In the month of May
A burly bum came ahiking
Down a shady lane
Through the sugar cane
He was looking for his liking
As he strolled along
He sang a song
Of the land of milk and honey
Where a bum can stay
For many a day
And he won’t need any money

Chorus:

In the Big Rock Candy Mountain
The cops have wooden legs
The bulldogs all have rubber teeth
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs
The farmers’ trees are full of fruit
The barns are full of hay
I want to go where there ain’t no snow
Where the sleet don’t fall and the wind don’t blow
In that Big Rock Candy Mountain

Alternate verses:

2. There’s a lake of gin
We can both jump in
And the handouts grow on bushes
In the new-mown hay
We can sleep all day
And the bars all have free lunches
Where the mail train stops
And there ain’t no cops
And the folks are tender-hearted
Where you never change your socks
And you never throw rocks
And your hair is never parted

Chorus:

3. Oh, a farmer and his son,
They were on the run
To the hay field they were bounding
Said the bum to the son,
“Why don’t you come
To that big rock candy mountain?”
So the very next day
They hiked away,
The mileposts they were counting
But they never arrived
At the lemonade tide
On the big rock candy mountain

Chorus:

1. One evening as the sun went down
And the jungle fires were burning,
Down the track came a hobo hiking,
He said, “Boys, I’m not turning
I’m heading for a land that’s far away
Beside the crystal fountain
I’ll see you all this coming fall
In the Big Rock Candy Mountain
Chorus:

2. In the Big Rock Candy Mountain,
It’s a land that’s fair and bright,
The handouts grow on bushes
And you sleep out every night.
The boxcars all are empty
And the sun shines every day
I’m bound to go
Where there ain’t no snow
Where the sleet don’t fall
And the winds don’t blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountain.
Chorus:

3. In the Big Rock Candy Mountain
You never change your socks
And little streams of alkyhol
Come trickling down the rocks
O the shacks all have to tip their hats
And the railway bulls are blind
There’s a lake of stew
And ginger ale too
And you can paddle
All around it in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountain
Chorus:

4. In the Big Rock Candy Mountain
The cops have wooden legs
The bulldogs all have rubber teeth
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs
The box-cars all are empty
And the sun shines every day
I’m bound to go
Where there ain’t no snow
Where the sleet don’t fall
And the winds don’t blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountain.
Chorus:

5. In the Big Rock Candy Mountain,
The jails are made of tin.
You can slip right out again,
As soon as they put you in.
There ain’t no short-handled shovels,
No axes, saws nor picks,
I’m bound to stay
Where you sleep all day,
Where they hung the jerk
That invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountain.
Chorus:

© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group

As I was drivin', one summer mornin'....
As I was drivin’, one summer mornin’….

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