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8-bar Blues vs 12-bar Blues | Howard Levy Harmonica | Traditional Blues
I'm sure you have heard of the term "12-bar blues", which is the most famous blues structure. But did you know that there are many other kinds of blues structures? Among them, most notably, is the "8-bar blues". In this video, I'll break down the differences between these two blues forms, using a classic 8-bar blues tune and a spontaneous 12-bar blues that I made up on the spot to demonstrate.
How 1920s-30s swing evolved into bebop, by Howard Levy
Reaching Out to Survivors Through Writing
Leaflets Bombard Fort Jackson G.I.’s Off Post
Douglas Robinson, The New York Times, 26 February 1968
COLUMBIA, S. C. — The young men in Army uniforms come into the city looking for excitement in the beer lounges or movie theaters along Main Street much as they have since nearby Fort Jackson opened as a training camp more than 50 years ago.
They come out of boredom, for there are beer halls and theaters on the post. They come to get away from the drab world of olive uniforms, but they seem to travel in green-coated herds. They come hoping to be greeted by girls, but rarely are their hopes answered.
Recently, however, they have been greeted by leaflets handed to them by fellow soldiers in civilian clothes or by militant-looking coeds from the University of South Carolina— leaflets that cast doubts on the American role in the Vietnam war.
One mimeographed message handed to soldiers as they alighted from a bus a few weeks ago told the youths that the Army was “harassing” them in an effort to “break you down so you will cease to be a man.”
‘Trying to Change You’ “They know that once they have got you to the point where you’ll get down on your hands and knees and police an area that doesn't need policing, buff a floor that doesn’t need buffing, mow the grass with a razor blade—or any of the crazy stunts they had you doing this week—then pretty soon you’ll be willing to go 10,000 miles and run through the mud and shoot at some farmboy you’ve never seen, who has never threatened you or your family or your country,” the long-winded leaflet continued.
“They are trying to change you. That’s what harassment is all about, and in the end they’ll tell you the way to be a man is to go out and kill you a gook. And you’ll nod. And the harassment will stop.”
The two Fort Jackson soldiers handling out this leaflet did so for almost two hours before a fistfight developed. Then, bruised and battered, they withdrew.
The incident is typical of the increasing pressure on recruits by a small but active group of soldiers and students opposed to the war—pressure that utilizes the confusion and doubts arising from the war ilself and from the criticism heard on all sides.
Both the student and the soldier activists are unorganized, linked only by leaflets and telephones. At the university, which is not noted for the size or frequency of demonstrations, some 10 students are involved. In a pinch, they can muster 10 more to be peripherally involved, if the risk of being punished is not great.
Two weeks ago, at an inter-faith chapel on the grounds of Fort Jackson, about 20 soldiers showed up to attend a meditation and prayer service and to express, in a religious setting, their “grave doubt,” as one sponsor put it, about the Vietnam conflict.
Originally, the Amy had given the group permission to use the chapel. When it became clear, however, that antiwar sentiments were obviously going to be voiced, post authorities withdrew their permission.
Most Wander Away When soldiers began to gather at the chapel, one of the meditation sponsors, Specialist 4 Martin Blumsack of Chicago, was ordered to read a statement that there would be no meeting. Although most of the soldiers began to wander away, two dropped to their knees in apparent prayer.
The two, Pfc. Robert P. Tater of 123-35 82d Road, Kew Gardens, Queens, and Private Stephen F. Kline Jr. of Florham Park, N. J., continued to kneel even after an officer allegedly ordered them to “stop praying and leave the area.”
This week, the two, both of whom work in the base hospital where Capt. Howard B. Levy was assigned before his conviction last year on charges of promoting disloyalty and refusing to obey an order, were both arrested and charged with refusing to follow a lawful command, several uniform violations and disorderly conduct.
Some of the other men whe had shown up at the meditation service were restricted to the post and several had their hours shifted to night schedules.
The case was quickly taken up by Charles Morgan Jr., the Southern regional director of the American Civil Liberties Union and the man who defended Captain Levy. Mr. Morgan flew here from Atlanta to advise them.
He labeled the charges a violation of the freedom of religion clause of the First Amendment and said that although the men “had permission to use the chapel, it was withdrawn because they wanted to pray for the wrong thing.”
Late today, the Army announced that Col. Henry F. Fancy, commanding officer of the Fort Jackson Hospital, had dismissed the charges against the two soldiers “after a thorough investigation of all facts relevant to the case.”
The closing of the chapel, the Army statement said, “was in no way an attempt to infringe on the soldiers’ right to worship.”
“However,” it continued, “the use of the chapel for this type of gathering would violate Army regulations and could not be condoned.”
From Atlanta, Mr. Morgan commented dryly that “I’m gratified that a man in the Army can pray.”
Meditation Service Tuesday night, some 50 university students gathered outside Rutledge Chapel on the South Carolina campus for an hour-long meditation service described in a leaflet as a meeting “to reaffirm freedom of worship and lend support to these American soldiers.”
The case also became one of the chief items of discussion at the U.F.O. (Unidentified Flying Objects), a nouveau groovy coffee house with revolving col-Dred lights, giant wall posters and folk music, which opened here several months ago. It is, perhaps, the only such establishment in South Carolina.
The U.F.O. has attracted both students and soldiers to its multi-hued lights. It offers soldiers a place where they can talk freely about Vietnam and the tribulations of Army life and gives the student activists a room where they can sound louder and stronger than they really are.
The coffee house also draws the better educated soldier who, weary of beer and the repetitious military argot of tavern and barrack, can discuss literature or music or play chess. On weekends, the U.F.O. is jammed with people.
Just what effect the activists have had on the soldiers is not immediately apparent. There are, however, noticeably few heated arguments and discussion flows without evident hostility.
Among the frequent visitors in the coffee house are the Columbia city police who check in three or four times a night. Plainclothesmen, both city detectives and Army intelligence agents, have also been known to drop in.
In addition to discussions and complaints about Army life and the doubts about the war in Vietnam, the soldiers have also been concerned recently about an epidemic of spinal meningitis that swept through Fort Jackson, taking five lives.
The outbreak is now under control and has been for about two weeks. Nevertheless, the recruits display some apprehension and all have friends in the post hospital with respiratory infections, a common condition in basic training camps.
Most of the soldiers who express opposition to the Vietnam war—a minuscule number compared with the 22,000 military and civilian personnel at Fort Jackson—deny that Captain Levy’s trial here had any effect on their own viewpoints. Only a few even knew him.
Captain Levy, who is now serving a three-year sentence in Fort Leavenworth, Kan., was convicted last summer after he had refused to teach the treatment of skin diseases to Special Forces medics bound for Vietnam.
The memory of his trial, however, lingers in the minds of many of the officers at Fort Jackson. When it became known last week that Captain Levy’s attorney would also defend the two soldiers arrested after the chapel incident, a hastily scrawled message went upon on a headquarters bulletin board. It said simply: “Morgan’s back.”
MOUTH HARPIST HOWARD LEVY.
(But really. This man can play. Check it out!)
(Howard Levy, Harmonica’s Main Man, July 3, 2015)
Trio Globo - Steering By the Stars