TR: Please tell us something about the book that is not in the summary. (About the book, person you particularly enjoyed writing etc.)
RB: At first, I was reluctant to write a book about my pilgrimage because it seemed like the obvious thing to do, kind of a cliché. You know, a writer has an unusual or remarkable personal experience, it’s pretty much expected that he or she will write the obligatory memoir. However, writing is my default. I will sit down and write before I’ll do anything else… doing dishes, making an important phone call, or even depositing a check at the bank usually wait until I’ve exhausted my compulsion to express myself on the page.
Playing with language is my comfort zone. Writing offers me something I can control. No one else has my exact skill set, shares my exact perspective, or has had my exact experience. So, it’s up to me to tell my story and make my observations in the most vivid, interesting and crafty way. That’s a challenge I accept and actually really enjoy. I guess it comes from decades of crafting songs, constantly laboring with language to put story, characters, time, place into a tidy, clear, succinct package that hopefully has an emotional effect.
Instead of a book, I thought about writing a screenplay, or a stage play. But, once I started working with my journals, looking back over my pilgrimage experience, a memoir felt like the right next step (pun intentional). After all, the tools were right there… the computer, the software, pages and pages of journal, the time to write, as well as my innate compulsion to sit down and do it, and keep re-writing until I felt it was ready for the editor, then re-writing some more. And, although I wish I’d been able to condense TREK into a shorter volume — if only to make the font a size bigger — I’m pretty proud of it as it is.
TR: From reading your bio, I can see you have lived an amazing and full life so far. Can you tell us more about some of the things you have done that influenced your idea to walk despite your physical limitations?
RB: I’ve been an activist, committed to peace, justice, and equality for more than a half century. In 1968, I marched in the first anti-Vietnam War moratorium in Washington, DC. That same spring, I got tear gassed at a demonstration on the campus of Oberlin College. In L.A., during the Reagan administration, I got very involved in the Beyond War movement, studying non-violence. In Nashville, I stood shivering in the rain with a handful of protestors against the U.S. invasion of Iraq. During that time, I had a number of letters to the editor published. A neighbor — he was an ex-Marine — accused me of sedition, and said he wished he “could put a bullet between my traitorous eyes.”
Now, I’m three times a grandfather. I’m not only deeply concerned about the kind of world my grandkids will inherit. I’m worried about the role models they are exposed to. I hope it doesn’t seem quaint and old fashioned to care about such traditional values as character, honesty, integrity, and the willingness to sacrifice for the common good. When public figures are out there completely disregarding the truth, exhibiting disrespect, acting only in their own self-interest purely out of ego, while being so richly rewarded, I worry what kind of message that sends to our kids.
I still show up at protest rallies. Sometimes I’m asked to sing and play. Gathering in solidarity with people of like mind is a feel-good thing. Sure, demonstrations can be effective in drawing attention to critical issues and sometimes even help to accelerate positive change. But, protests and marches are us-against-them events. They’re about blaming someone else, focusing on what we don’t want, what we can’t live with. It’s easy to link arms with folks you agree with. It’s not nearly so easy to listen to someone who sees things differently, to empathize with their perspective, and keep the dialogue civil and constructive. Doing that requires patience, restraint, and practice. So, I think it’s equally important to engage in one-on-one conversations over the backyard fence, at the post office, searching for what I like to call “square inches of common ground.”
I guess that’s why I felt such resonance with Peace Pilgrim, because she distilled it all down to such a simple concept. She said a pilgrimage is an opportunity to meet people. So, that’s what I set out to do.
TR: Besides ‘writing ‘Trek’, did you also write songs during or about your walk? (if you want to share one, send me the link).
Activities that rely more on muscle memory (driving, gardening, ironing, etc.) tend to allow the subconscious creative mind to break through. I do a lot of my lyric writing while walking on the beach here on the Central Oregon Coast. So, as I pushed the Pilgrimmobile through California and Oregon, I was surprised that I didn’t have dozens of songs springing into my head. Only a couple of rudimentary ideas came to me along the way, and those songs remained incomplete until months after I got home. Two of those, “Old Man Tryin’ To Matter” and “American Gumbo,” became the opening and closing songs to TREK on Stage, my companion performance piece to the book.
After I returned, while I was writing the book, I felt inspired to compose a suite of original songs reflecting on my trek experience. Those became the musical interludes in my stage show. And most of those lyrics were written during daily beach walks with Millie the beagle. My YouTube promo video for TREK on Stage features short snippets of several of those songs:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PL5IqWe3YFc&t=2s
One song I wrote and recorded while making preparations for my trek became a theme song of sorts for my pilgrimage, “Answering the Call.” Here’s the soundcloud link to the produced recording: https://soundcloud.com/rand-bishop/answering-the-call
There’s also a live, solo acoustic version of “Answering the Call” on YouTube, more like the way I played it for folks on my trek: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mJpG8W0jbOo
I tell a story in the book about playing a song called “Healin’ Time” for a homeless man in a wheel chair on the sidewalk in North Bend, Oregon. I remark that, over the course of 50 years and thousands of performances, I never had a more rapt, attentive, emotionally involved audience than this man. I played that same song for intimate gatherings in living rooms and campgrounds, too. Here’s the soundcloud link to the produced recording of “Healin’ Time.” https://soundcloud.com/rand-bishop/healin-time
TR: How long did it take you to complete the walk and then ‘Trek’?
I started preparing for my pilgrimage in December of 2016, a month after the election. I took my first steps on May 1, 2017, in Thousand Oaks, CA on the L.A.-Ventura County line and finished on July 28 in Lincoln City, Oregon. The reason I limited my walk to 90 days was because of my annual commitment to Peace Village here on the Central Oregon Coast, conducting overnight rites of passage for the 12 and 13-year-old boys at the flagship Lincoln City camp and leading music and teaching media literacy at Peace Village Newport.
Of course, I didn’t walk every one of those 90 days. I took time to rest and heal, to visit friends, do laundry, buy supplies, take the dog to the vet. At one point I had to take to bed myself for three days to recover from a severe attack of gastritis. Some days I walked as far as 18 miles. Other days I covered six to eight. A 12-mile day was pretty average.
The book took more than a year to write, working pretty much every morning for four to six hours, seven days a week. My first draft was double the recommended length for a commercial memoir. So, the re-writing process was not just about refining the language, it was also about deciding what parts of the story absolutely needed to be told, and what could be sacrificed. Being a songwriter, I felt like I’d written a seven-minute song that somehow had to be shortened to three and a half minutes. Those choices were tough, and required several more drafts to hone the manuscript down to a digestible length. Then, the book went through two edits. I was extremely unhappy with the first editor’s work, so I had to go back through the entire manuscript again to repair what she’d done. The second edit drew attention to some other issues, which took some more time to cure. By then, the entire process had taken about a year and a half.
TR: Where did you get the inspiration for your cover?
RB: I took a lot of iPhone photos and videos along the way. The photo that we used for the cover background was taken on a stretch of winding two-lane highway that passed under a canopy of madrone trees. The image always seemed kind of magical to me. It captured the isolation I felt so often while also showing an archway leading to the next adventure, the yet to be known.
The image of the pilgrim pushing his cart and leading his beagle came from a photo my best friend from high school shot in Castroville, California. My designer turned it into a black silhouette, sort of like something my grandmother might have glued to a doily back in the day. I wanted an iconic, recognizable visual image that could be used in lots of ways. And, I think that image works well.
Then, one day, I was driving along a strip of two-lane highway and noticed a yellow, diamond-shaped road sign with a black-and-white hook-and-ladder truck, you know, indicating there was a fire house ahead. That’s when I got the idea to use the pilgrim/cart/beagle silhouette on a road sign. And, honestly, there were many times I wished drivers would have had some warning before they came upon this old grey-bearded pilgrim pushing his cart through the shadows on the edge of a shoulder-less highway.
TR: What are you currently working on?
RB: I moved from Nashville back to my home state in 2012 to be of assistance to my parents, who were 85 and 86 at the time. So, I’ve been advocate, chief cook, and caretaker for them for seven years. Dad has had a half dozen surgeries since then. Mom had a stroke and is now officially diagnosed with dementia. At 92 and 93, they’ve become increasingly dependent. Some weeks, I spent three days at the ER and/or taking one or the other of them to doctor’s appointments. On September first, I moved them to a really nice assisted living facility. So far, they seem very happy there. Now that I’m not obligated to cook dinners, buy groceries for them, pick up prescriptions, etc. my time will be more flexible.
Admittedly, I spend far too much time administrating my Facebook Group, Give Civility a Chance. I created the group as a safe place to discuss issues without fear of getting trolled. It’s kind of an experiment, where folks can practice communicating candidly within certain guidelines of civility and respect.
Of course, I’ve been promoting my memoir. And, I’m starting to get bookings for TREK on Stage, other speaking engagements, and music performances. Recently, I performed a set of songs for a rally called Hate Has No Home Here, in support of a trans woman who was assaulted on the beach where I walk my dog nearly every day. I’ve also just taken on the job as music director for the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship here in Newport. As far as writing, I post the occasional blog on Daily Kos under the pseudonym Gimpy Ol’ Norman. And, earlier this year, I started on a novella, or maybe a serialized work of fiction. It’s kind of time sensitive. So, I don’t know if I’ll have the energy and focus to get it finished and out before it hits its expiration date. I just turned 70. Honestly, I don’t have the get up and go I once had. Whenever possible, I try to take time for afternoon naps.
TR: If ‘Trek’ were to be made into a movie which actors would you like to be in it?
This is such a great question. I’m a big film fan. When I moved back to Oregon from Tennessee seven years ago, I had a screenplay in development with an established director and a very successful show runner was working on making my novel Grand Pop into a premium cable series. My first solo-written screenplay won first place at the Nashville Screenwriters Conference and two of my scripts were optioned, but never made into films.
When you’re pitching a screenplay, it’s always a good idea to have a star or two in mind because attaching name talent can help get the movie made. So, I’ve done a lot of thinking about who might play leading roles in pieces I’ve written. But, I’m the lead character in TREK, and the story’s only consistent character. It seems awfully egotistical to even imagine a movie star playing me. And, really, what actor in his mid-to-late 60s could inhabit my sensitive, vulnerable self and carry an entire film? I wish I could think of the ideal actor… but, honestly, I’m flummoxed.
TR: What was the first major news story you remember as a child? How did it impact you?
RB: My parents tell me that I was particularly interested when King George VI of England died. I don’t remember because I was only three at the time. Apparently, I was enamored by his spiffy uniform, all those gold braids and medals. That was probably where my love for costumes was born. After all, I became a glam rocker in my 20s. One day, when I was little, a man from the Salvation Army showed up at the house soliciting donations. I saw him through the front window, got all excited and told Mom and Dad that King George was at the door.
I was just starting third grade when my favorite team, the Milwaukee Braves beat the Yankees in the World Series. That was huge. Baseball was an especially big deal in my family, because my paternal grandfather had been a pro ball player and a minor league manager. Although he died when I was four, I still remember him as a colorful character and an eternal optimist. I was definitely his favorite. Some of my most vivid early childhood memories came from spending one-on-one time with him. I remember us skipping down the sidewalk together on Multnomah Street in Portland, kicking walnuts, and singing “Ida, Sweet as Apple Cider.” I can still sing that song more than 65 years later.
Anyway, like a lot of boys growing up in the 1950s, I had dreams of becoming a ball player. Once again, I really liked the uniforms… and the rituals, too: rubbing the leather ball, pounding my fist into my mitt, chewing a big wad of bubble gum, spitting, the chatter on the diamond, all that. But, I think my baseball aspirations might have been linked to a self-imposed pressure to become the kind of man my grandfather would have wanted me to be. I idolized the Braves and hated the Yankees because they were the nemesis to my favorite players. So, when the Braves won that year, 1957, it felt like a personal victory. It sort of elevated my status with my classmates by making me a winner, too. And, it provided even greater motivation for me to develop into a pretty good Little Leaguer, an all-star. But, I didn’t play competitively after that. It scared me when the pitchers started throwing so hard. I was young for my grade, small, and less physically mature than my classmates. That’s when I started focusing more on music. Then, in seventh grade, I caught the theater bug. I got to wear costumes and make-up without fear of getting beaned by a wild pitch.
TR: What book/s are you reading at present?
RB: Recently, my reading has run the gamut, from Brene Brown to Jon Krakauer to Richard Russo — self-help to real-life adventure to snarky fiction. Right now, I’m reading McCallandia by Bill Hall. It’s a fictional reconstruction of history in which Nixon selects Oregon Governor Tom McCall as his Vice President instead of Gerald Ford. When Nixon resigns, McCall goes on to serve two terms, which results in the U.S. being an entirely different and much better place.
I’m also a big fan of John Pavlovitz and his blog: Stuff that Needs to be Said. Although I’m a Unitarian, it’s good to know there are Christians who actually walk the walk and abide by the credo, “What would Jesus do?”
TR:Do you have any words of wisdom to share with the activists of today?
RB: I understand that it feels like we’ve come to a crux, a crucially urgent point in our cultural evolution, when humankind might possibly be writing its own death sentence. But, it’s important to step back once in awhile to get some perspective.
First of all, cultural evolution is inevitable. Unfortunately, however, it doesn’t happen in a straight line or move ahead in a constant forward trajectory. Every bit of progress, every step forward triggers reaction, resistance, and some regression. In recent years, we’ve instigated massive cultural change… electing a black president, same-sex marriage, multiculturalism, racial blending, legalizing cannabis. So, now we find ourselves living through a period of negative resistance to those changes. This same pendulum swing happened in the 1970s when the so-called Moral Majority formed in response to the massive cultural changes of the previous decade.
Through persistence, we’ve always been able to overcome resistance to progress. The difference now is, our very survival as a species depends on not abandoning hope, not giving up. Still, at the same time, we need to remember that real, lasting change is incremental. It takes time. I’ve been an activist for more than 50 years. Yes, I get exhausted and frustrated and disappointed. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it, if anything I’ve ever done has made any difference.
But, let’s look back at how this nation began. The first Europeans who settled this continent started by decimating native culture and stealing aboriginal land, then they imported slaves from Africa to do their labor. Popular entertainment in the early colonies was going down to the town square to watch a witch being burned at the stake. So, we really have made a lot of progress since then — and a few hundred years is only a minuscule drop in the bucket of time.
TREK by Rand Bishop
