Train Out of Cicero
This story takes you around the world, beginning in 1969 with my hopping a Train out of Cicero on the outskirts of Chicago, Illinois and an encounter with an angry hobo; to a tale about how to act in the face of aggression as told by Sri Ramakrishna, the great saint of Calcutta, India, telling of a snake and a sadhu and how to act in the face of aggression. Here are words, pictures and a recorded narration with music and sound effects. Every page holds a separate recording and at the end of the page, simply click to flip to the next one and the narration and music will continue. If you desire to listen to the story and wonderful music as a whole, without the breaks of the different pages, you will find on the very last page, the embed of the complete story and music: Train out of Cicero Music: Spann's Stomp, by Otis Spann, 1924-1970, the greatest Blues piano player of all time. The music on the final page music is from a live performance by: Anoushka Shankar, Bhairavi Raga
This story takes you around the world, beginning in 1969 with my hopping a Train out of Cicero on the outskirts of Chicago, Illinois and an encounter with an angry hobo; to a tale about how to act in the face of aggression as told by Sri Ramakrishna, the great saint of Calcutta, India, telling of a snake and a sadhu and how to act in the face of aggression. Here are words, pictures and a recorded narration with music and sound effects.
Every page holds a separate recording and at the end of the page, simply click to flip to the next one and the narration and music will continue. If you desire to listen to the story and wonderful music as a whole, without the breaks of the different pages, you will find on the very last page, the embed of the complete story and music: Train out of Cicero
Music: Spann's Stomp, by Otis Spann, 1924-1970, the greatest Blues piano player of all time.
The music on the final page music is from a live performance by:
Anoushka Shankar, Bhairavi Raga
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He was a large black man and obviously in an angry and<br />
antagonistic state <strong>of</strong> mind. I was taken by surprise and I didn't<br />
answer right away.<br />
He growled again,<br />
"I said, you got any food white boy?"<br />
"No, I don't have any food."<br />
I answered in my 'come on lets be rational and talk this all out'<br />
educated, jewish-liberal, white-boy voice.’<br />
"I know you got food in that knapsack white boy."<br />
His voice was getting louder and more insistent.<br />
"I don't have any food, man." I now replied in a more firm tone<br />
<strong>of</strong> 'although I was never brought up this way, this is how it is'<br />
voice.’<br />
I was telling the truth. I did have some brown rice and miso, but<br />
I knew that wouldn't count in this situation.<br />
"I know you got food in that knapsack white boy."<br />
He took a step towards me as he spoke.<br />
He had definitely approached within the critical range for a<br />
conversation <strong>of</strong> this sort. I had to do something.<br />
I knew the train was going too fast for either one <strong>of</strong> us to leave<br />
now. I envisioned a fight with someone being thrown out the<br />
door . . . it all wasn't pretty. The train was flying along and the<br />
whole boxcar had that rolling sway <strong>of</strong> a fast-moving ship on<br />
land.<br />
Our eyes were locked together and even though we couldn't<br />
see each other clearly, I made my move . . .
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