Generation gap

             We were asked to perform a group song in SICT’s summer “gala,” a glorified talent show in which mildly students sing into microphones, dance around in scanty costumes, and demonstrate karate.  John Mooneyham served as English speaking emcee.

            

 It was difficult to locate an American song all of us knew, and we finally settled on a neutered version of Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land,” without the last three verses, which are very radical.  Then I learned we were expected to lead the entire assembly in a rousing rendition of “Auld Lang Syne. Brittany, John, Gabriele and Zane, none of whom are past thirty, claimed not to have heard of this song.   They learned it however, though they thought it was corny.