When deciding to dedicate NaNoWriMo to exploring the work of storytellers, there was really only one artist that I knew for sure that I wanted to cover. While everyone on this journey has conveyed various sides of humanity through song, I don’t know that there’s any that feels as timely and meaningful as Arlo Guthrie. With today being Thanksgiving once again, I find myself wanting to turn on the radio to 95.5 KLOS and prepare for a timely tradition that has entertained my family for several years now. I still remember sitting in my car in a mall parking lot after seeing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 (2010) and just taking it in, laughing along with my mother.
“Alice’s Restaurant” is one of the few times that Thanksgiving has been allowed to have their own pop culture stamp. When you look at Christmas, anyone who staples the words snow and/or gifts together will have it hijacked for December. You can’t even get through today without reminders that tomorrow is Black Friday and that’s mostly been designed to jumpstart the economics of Christmas and end of the year sales. With exception to the quite poor A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, “Alice’s Restaurant” is really the only major Thanksgiving property that fills you with eagerness to turn it on and get lost in its wackiness.
What is it about Guthrie that speaks so well to this particular season? For the most part, the very idea of “Alice’s Restaurant” is a bit farcical, hiding something more absurd. It centers around a Thanksgiving dinner, but it’s really a longwinded commentary on The Vietnam War that starts with a bogus littering arrest and ends with complaints that the military doesn't respect homosexuals. Given the era it was released, things like the comical use of “father rape” and “faggots” maybe haven’t aged that well. Still, it helps to paint a picture of the disparity between Guthrie and the people of this town.
I will honestly admit that my exposure to folk music or storytellers is very limited. As much as I love a good acoustic guitar, it’s a genre that I haven’t gotten into. I’m not sure that my tastes can appreciate the grassroots nature of singing passionately about the working man, making everything capital-I Important. There is a point where message songs lose me and sometimes I long for straightforward rock. This is a long way of saying that I have nothing really to compare my experience with this song to. I’ve never listened to a Bob Dylan album. When I listen to Guthrie, I just enjoy the comedy of it all, finding him ramble through a story that acts like it doesn’t make sense, but maybe does.
There is something impeccable about an artist who can make something so precise feel so slapdash. With a looping ragtime guitar line, he begins his story with the unassuming nature of saying that he’s about to tell you of Alice and her restaurant. Even the way he conveys this feels muddled like he isn’t sure that audiences will understand the depth of what he’s about to say. It’s all this bashful, folksy way of establishing empathy with a hypnotic melody that underlines every point he makes. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like to be in the audience for that performance, unaware of what was about to happen. You hear the laughter with each new detail but, as I mentioned before, this isn’t really about a restaurant. It’s only a jumping-off point for something greater.
I suppose the question one should ask is whether or not any of this is true. Is there something substantial to say about “The Alice’s Restaurant Massacree,” or is it just like that title? Massacree, itself a corrupted version of massacre, refers to a story that may be so absurd that it’s difficult to believe if it ever happened. That is what’s impressive about the song. It draws a fine line in its practicality that it could go either way. For me, I never realized that there was any truth behind it until I began to do research into its history, discovering how much symbolism was crammed into these near-19 minutes.
Come to think of it, I wonder if contemporary audiences would be able to appreciate it. Given that Nick Thune does a similarly entertaining form of comedy, I have some belief that the satirical take on folk music still exists. However, in a time where comedy is about timing and immediacy, the idea of being lost in a 19-minute song feels farcical, especially when there’s an anticlimactic structure to everything. You feel duped about the whole concept taking its sweet time, where the punchline might not come for a few minutes. In fact, the whole idea has a pathetic innocence to it that maybe turns some off.
What I think works in the song’s favor is how Guthrie causes you to hang onto every word he says. It begins so innocently with a Thanksgiving Dinner before building to the conflict. The ragtime guitar adds a comical undertone to everything as he takes trash to a dump, which is closed and ends up being arrested for littering. This inevitably leads to being unable to be drafted, and it’s one long story that includes jokes about Guthrie not killing himself over a littering fine. Sure, he has to go to jail, but it only puts into stark contrast the divide between petty crimes and those who murder and rape others. It’s absurd, and he has you curious to know what happens next.
If public records are true, Guthrie based this off of several instances. From a restaurant owned by his friend Alice Brock to the littering fine, he decided to turn it into a comedic song about war. You can’t believe that much of it happened, and yet so much of it began to permeate the culture. There was an Alice’s Restaurant established because of the song’s popularity. There’s a trash trail that is walked annually to raise money for Huntington’s Disease. Even the commentary on the military not allowing homosexuals has evolved over time, finding Guthrie changing the language to be more tolerable to changing tastes.
It all ends with a comical decision. Given everything that happened to Guthrie throughout the song, it makes the ending funnier. After everything is said and done, he says that people shouldn’t go to war. What they should do is go to their psychiatrist and sing the chorus. As he gets the audience to sing in four-part harmony, they joyfully realize that this is a laidback way of cheating the system a little, which from the sound of it doesn’t seem to respect Guthrie. Why would they arrest a man who littered and stick him with a bunch of more dangerous criminals? If anything, they’re putting him more in the line of danger.
I suppose my affection for this song is tied largely to my parents. Because of them, I had an affection for KLOS’ random holiday traditions. As recent as a few years ago, they had things like Morgan Freeman reading “Twas the Night Before Christmas” that they would play to get into the season. More than any holiday song, it was these highlights that I turned to for comfort, finding something fun in their slightly perverse take on everything. While I can’t claim to hold the same affection for classic rock as they do, it does create something warm to know that every Thanksgiving at a certain time, they would be playing “Alice’s Restaurant.” We would keep each other in contact about what time it would be airing.
With that said, I don’t know that it’s a song that I personally love outside of this context. Whereas I can listen to just about any Christmas song year-round and experience organic emotion, I listened to Guthrie’s song for this column and it was fine. Everything about it was still amusing, but I think what makes it a Thanksgiving tradition more than anything is the feeling of being with people. Even the audience singing along feels like a community experience I need to have on that specific day. I need crowds laughing at the same jokes. I need the radio guiding me. There’s a tradition to it that is impeccable.
As the holidays begin to rise again, I’m left trying to get out of my personal despair and appreciate what’s great in my life. Thanksgiving is literally a holiday about discussing what you’re thankful for. In a year like 2020, I find that being more prescient than ever. It’s where the dumb traditions feel more valuable than ever before. Time feels more precious right now, and there’s a comfort in hearing Guthrie sing this song, talking about it with my parents, and having our own inside jokes about it. There’s a bonding there that I’m not taking for granted this year, and I can only hope your family has similar traditions.
I’m aware that there’s more to the “Alice’s Restaurant” legacy than the song. There’s an album and even a movie. I heard it was pretty bad. One of these days I’ll probably watch it and cross that off my bucket list. I’m also aware that Guthrie updated the lyrics based around a Seinfeld reference, which makes the whole thing amusing. I admire how he used metaphors and symbolism in the song to convey institutional problems and that he made it into a wild song that has withstood the test of time. Comedic songs don’t usually have an endurance quite like this and I could only wish to create something this flawlessly careless.
In closing, I want everyone to enjoy their Thanksgiving in whatever ways you do. If it’s not your favorite holiday, do something that makes you happy. I’m aware that I’m lucky to have family within the town that has kept me company during this rough year. We’re having a small get-together, as usual. In that respect, this year doesn’t feel special. However, there’s some miracle with being able to survive right now, to have something there to make you feel less alone. I sympathize with those who are smart, who don’t travel at the risk of potential infection. We’ll get through together. I’m here for you if you want to talk. I can only hope everything will be fine. That’s all you can do right now.
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