Letters: Civil Rights Music And Snow
NEAL CONAN, host:
It's Tuesday, and time to read from your emails and Web comments.
We talked last week with the author of the book "Newsonomics" about the future of the news business - will it turn a profit? Will it survive at all? Turns out, many of you are interested in the news, some of you will even pay for it, but not Brad McKew,(ph) a listener in Kings Beach, California.
Pay? Are you kidding? I already pay plenty for computer and cable fees. The New York Times throws ads at me on their front page, and now they want to charge for what they admit is a diminished product? Charge advertisers more for access to my eyeballs. I won't ante up more for information I can get without charges.
Another listener can't imagine a future without her trusted newspaper. We did pay for The New York Times online several years ago and will pay again. I'm old enough to remember Watergate. Scary to think what would have befallen us without investigative reporters.
We ended the week with a conversation about the music of the civil rights movement. Bernice Johnson Reagon, one of the original Freedom Singers, told us there is no separation for her between the music and the movement, the singing in marches and mass meetings in jails.
Many of you told us about the songs that meant something special to you. Washington Butler(ph) emailed from Tennessee to share his story. During the '60s, I lived in Oakridge, Tennessee, where I served on the city council. I was probably the only sitting publicly-elected official in the South who was actively involved in the civil rights movement. I was incarcerated in the Knox County jail after demonstrating before a restaurant in Knoxville. While in jail, we sang almost continually and were thrown in solitary when other inmates complain. We sang "Keep Your Eyes on the Prize," a song that was important to me. Another song important to me was "We are Soldiers in the Army." It was the theme song of the Mississippi movement.
And finally, the last word we hope anyway on the snowpocalypse or snoverkill -with a fresh layer of powder blanketing large parts of the country last week, we talked about the ethics of snow. One common theme: saving parking spaces with lawn furniture. Some of you do it and defend your hard, shoveled rights. Some of you hate it. But once the storm ends, how long should you hold dibs on a parking space?
Joan Perkins(ph) gave us the most definitive answer we could find. Boston allows 48 hours to keep your space then they remove the placeholder. By the way, the best saver I've ever seen is a walker. When I went by the next day, somebody had hit it.
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