Because I’ve been up all night cleaning and packing and because we need to hit the road shortly for our drive to Connecticut, I’m going to give you tomorrow’s song today:

I’ve shared this before, but my dad likes to play Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant” every year and feels the day isn’t complete without it. When we were younger, my brother and I had other ideas about that. When we were very small, clearly we just had to put up with it. But as we got older, we’d head into our own rooms and put on “better” music. So Dad responded by making a cassette version and playing it in the car on the way home from Thanksgiving supper. We stole the tape so he couldn’t do it the next year. He made a new tape. We hid that one, too.

But, ultimately, it was never about a song, even one that lasts 20 minutes, but it was about being a part of a movement. And we are, because now it’s not Thanksgiving for me either without hearing it.

So, wait for it to come around on the guitar and then sing along loudly — and with feeling — when it does:

You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.
You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.
Walk right in; it’s around the back —
Just a half a mile from the railroad track.
You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.