COLUMN: The rockette's red hair?

From Daniel Fienberg's, "The Fien Print," Fall '98 From Daniel Fienberg's, "The Fien Print," Fall '98It isn't often that you get the opportunity to watch an entire stadium of bemused athletes and fans. As Tony Bennett strode away from the mic Saturday night, Yankee Stadium erupted in cheers -- adulation coming from mouths which seconds earlier had been pursed with concern. What, the crowd seemed to wonder, have they done with our national anthem? From Daniel Fienberg's, "The Fien Print," Fall '98It isn't often that you get the opportunity to watch an entire stadium of bemused athletes and fans. As Tony Bennett strode away from the mic Saturday night, Yankee Stadium erupted in cheers -- adulation coming from mouths which seconds earlier had been pursed with concern. What, the crowd seemed to wonder, have they done with our national anthem?Bennett began comfortably, with the traditionally elongated, "Oh?" but rather than following, rhetorically, with "say can you see," he launched into "beautiful for spacious skies." To the best of anybody's memory, it was the first time that an American professional sporting event had begun with a national anthem which was not the "Star Spangled Banner." The Star Spangled Banner" has been the official anthem of the United States since 1931. Since that moment, there have only been four uncontested facts: Nobody understands it. Nobody really knows all the lyrics. Only 2 percent of the population can sing the darned song without dropping down two octaves for the final verse. And it makes a lot of people very proud. The story goes that an American critic complained that one of James Joyce's novels was incomprehensible jibberish. Joyce responded promptly by sending a critic the full text of Francis Scott Key's poem with the inscription, "And you think I don't make any sense." I've always found it a miracle that Key's poem made it past an editor. I guess its literal point is pretty simple: "Hey, look, even though lots of things blew up (you know, ramparts, bombs and stuff), our flag is still there/ Is our flag still there?/ Yep, it's still there, I told you in the first sentence/ God bless America." How many rhetorical questions does it take to make that point? How many inverted nouns and verbs does it take before things get very confusing? And when is the action in the poem taking place anyway? Once we get into the song, the pain just keeps coming. Is it "Whose broad stripes" or "Who's brought stripes?" "Perilous night" or "Peril-less fight?" "Rocket's red glare" or "Rockette's red hair?" I'm sure that all of you know all the lyrics, but how 'bout the guy sitting next to you? We don't even sing the good parts of Key's poem. After the little ditty at the beginning, Key's imagery gets darker and far more provocative. Yet it's hard to imagine school children singing, "Their blood has washed out of their foul footsteps' pollution/ No refuge could save the hireling and slave/ From the terror of flight and the gloom of the grave." Not that all of those school children would have made it through the whole song anyway. There's something nervewracking about trying to hit that "free" in the final verse. Perhaps that's why many of the most famous renditions of the song had to be lip-synced. While we all have faith Whitney Houston and Jewel can hit those high notes, who really believes they can do it more than, say, five times outta 10? What are the odds that Tony Bennett copped out on "The Star Spangled Banana" just because he left his upper register in San Francisco? What is a national anthem supposed to do? Is it supposed to fill us with pride for something emblematic, as with England's "God Save the King/Queen/Miscellaneous Monarch?" Key's poem does that with the flag. Is it to highlight national identity, like "Oh Canada" ("The truth North strong and free")? I guess that's where the "land of the free and home of the brave" part comes in handy. Or is it to glorify military might, as with France's "La Marseillaise?" The difference there is that "La Marseillaise" is a peppy little number that people actually like to sing. It struck me, watching the World Cup this summer, that the French were the only team singing their anthem with vigor and pride. The Americans, who probably didn't know the words anyway, seemed less willing to join into our tune, which was once an old British drinking song. When Woodrow Wilson ordered that the "Star Spangled Banner" be played at certain events, he restricted its use to military and naval ceremonies. As an all-purpose fight song, then, it seems slightly inappropriate. The song was supposed to honor the faith of men and women who fought for the flag. Its bellicose nature is hardly conducive to large free-spirited public gatherings. In recent years, there have been letters written to the editors of virtually every paper in the country complaining about the lack of respect for our national anthem. Perhaps there are sentiments within the song which simply don't inspire the same amount of devotion in all people. Somehow, though, it seems easier to get into "America, the Beautiful." Everybody can sing it. It's hard not to get inspired by "fruited plains" and "spacious skies." Those seem like credentials for people to be proud of seeing, or proud of fighting for. And I guess that pride is what it's all about. Of course, I don't suspect we'll ever see a new national anthem, especially one so politically incorrect enough to mention both God and the crowning glory of brotherhood. But if Tony Bennett is ever in my neighborhood, and he ever wants to sing a duet of the national anthem, there's only one safe guarantee that I'll be able to sing along.