OK

Well, it's my favorite time of the year and I thought it would never get here. I'm shuffling through song lists and doing laundry getting ready for Oklahoma. Woodyfest in Okemah, Woody's home town, is unique in every way. Love flows on the streets of this little spot in the middle of the Indian Nation.

Woody was always a hero but, I have to admit, a minor one on my roster. I always thought of folk music as that stuff that white folks messed with due to a lack of soul.

My first year changed all that. Onstage with everyone trading verses on This Land Is Your Land for the finale I looked out into the eyes and the lights and saw tears streaming down the cheeks as far into the crowd as I could see. I realized they were running down mine as well.

Who knew that I was such a patriot? I'm not talking about waving flags or chanting, "U.S.A., U.S.A.," every time we bomb another nation. I'm thinking here of setting the standards for kindness and fairness and freedom. I'm thinking of a land of opportunity for everyone and a population that stands up for the oppressed and the disenfranchised.

I never thought of myself as a commie, either. Then I started to realize that some folks were beginning to think of me in that way. Heck, I was no more a commie than Woody or Jesus. Wait a minute. By the definition cooked up by Fox News, I am a commie.

I'm going to see folks that I love in Oklahoma. I can't wait.