Side streets: A folksinger, a podcast, a photographer, and a backlog of books
I should be catching up on my reading, but instead I wrote this.
I named this newsletter “Kyle Munson’s Main Street” because—well, in the first place because my wife thought of a name that was catchier and more on point than anything I had brainstormed.
I wanted the name to nod to one of my core beliefs about news media: It functions best as a voice for real-world communities where neighbors, although they may seriously disagree, still bump into each other in person and must find ways to get along and accomplish civic business. That connection keeps both media and community healthier compared to juicing the culture wars of our scattered, polarized tribes.
I know, I sound like an idealist.
At least I avoided a clunky name for this newsletter where I mashed “community” into a painfully vague and earnest word salad.
Here’s the real bonus: I can spin off “side streets” as an occasional post headline to let you know I’m offering a set of short cuts instead of a single, continuous drive.
Life on this bustling Main Street tends to get busy …
‘The life ain’t gone’
Iowa folksinger Greg Brown played a pair of “retirement shows” last week at the Englert Theatre in Iowa City alongside his daughters and longtime friends Bo Ramsey and Dave Moore. It’s not hyperbole to call Brown’s baritone rumble one of our state’s signature musical voices.
Kembrew McLeod wrote about Brown’s “contribution to folk music mythology” for Little Village. Karen Impola interviewed him for Iowa Public Radio’s “Talk of Iowa.” And in an interview with the Cedar Rapids Gazette, Brown clarifies—I guess that’s the verb—that he already retired in 2019 but also will continue to perform the occasional local charity gig.
Yet Brown’s casual fade still triggers a moment for Iowa reflection.
I began writing this post at the start of the week, but my fellow Iowa Writers’ Collaborative collaborator Art Cullen beat me to the punch with his own wonderful celebration of Brown in the form of an editorial reexamining the song “The Iowa Waltz”—what those lyrics say about Iowa then and now.
The folksinger’s sorta-retirement for me conjured the melody of “Summer Evening,” a beautiful ballad from my favorite Brown release, 2000’s “Over and Under” on Trailer Records—maybe the closest Brown has ever gotten to recording a punk album. This song sketches the contours of rural America’s economic decline and rings only truer today:
Say this deal's about over, and I guess that's true.
Town used to have 12 stores, now we got two.
Big boys movin' in, small farmers movin' on.
The way may be goin', but the life ain't gone.
I’m all for allowing Brown to enjoy his casual fade, but I don’t wish the same for Iowa, whether in soil or spirit.
A new passionate pod
Iowa Writers’ Collaborative members Julie Gammack and Rekha Basu have launched a new podcast with the less-than-timid title, “What the Hell Happened to Iowa?” It’s an ambitious project. In their debut episode alone, they interview a wide variety of fellow residents. One is the aforementioned Cullen, whose sketch of rural decline echoes the stanzas from Brown’s “Summer Evening.”
Gammack and Basu plan to scour the state to drag people in front of the microphone in search of answers. I recommend you acquiesce when they come knocking.
Get well, Rodney
You may have heard that veteran news photographer and videographer Rodney White suffered a stroke last week while on vacation in Mexico with his colleagues in the digital video marketing firm where he now works.
Rodney is one of the most gifted visual journalists I know. He brings a rare combination of artistic zeal and technical precision to all his work—whether he’s snapping a single portrait frame or piloting a video drone. Working alongside Rodney on ambitious projects was some of the most fun I had during my years at The Des Moines Register.
Because he was stricken outside of the country, Rodney also was out of network for health insurance—meaning he quickly racked up tens of thousands of dollars in medical bills. It was touch and go for a while, but finally last weekend he was wheeled on a stretcher into a jet and flown back to a hospital in Des Moines.
A GoFundMe is helping the family offset medical expenses. Donate if you’re able and feel moved. I probably could fill every existing Substack feed with Rodney’s accumulated images that have made a difference in the lives of thousands of fellow Iowans.
My book backlog
If you’re a reader like me, a reader who doesn’t use an e-reader, a reader who juggles multiple books in progress, a reader constantly triaging your reading list based on mood, then this may sound familiar.
Here’s how I organize my book backlog:
Stack on the nightstand: immediate reads.
Books in top drawer of nightstand: on-deck circle.
Cupboard next to my work-from-home desk: overflow for both incoming and outgoing titles.
List in my phone’s notes app: all the books I intend to purchase or borrow. I may make it through the list, assuming all I do in retirement is lock myself in a cabin in the woods and do nothing but read while subsisting on peanut butter.
As it is with music, I’m constantly awed by the seemingly endless amount of great old titles I’ve overlooked.
One of my recent reads is the “Heechee saga,” also known as the “Gateway series,” a 1970s and ‘80s trilogy by Frederik Pohl. I stumbled onto the worn paperbacks in a used bookstore. (Yes, I still believe in the random discovery of browsing aisles, not only the almighty algorithm’s power to personalize.) I was an avid teenage sci-fan fan of that era yet somehow overlooked Pohl among all my Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, Arthur C. Clarke, Philip K. Dick—I’ll stop before rolling through the entire alphabet.
I zipped through the trilogy and have since passed it along to a friend who’s even more steeped than me in all things sci-fi.
The more books I read, sci-fi or otherwise, the more I feel like each one asks roughly the same question: What does it mean to be human? I don’t know that we ever get any closer to a definitive answer, but a good book always makes me feel like I caught a glimpse.
A couple other books I’m currently reading:
“White House Ghosts,” by Robert Schlesinger, was published in 2006 and offers a fascinating alternate sketch of presidential history, from FDR to George W. Bush, as seen through the eyes of the speechwriters. I’ve spent my life immersed in words, messaging, narratives, and conversations with leaders and public officials. So this book has been fun. It also explores the etymology of the “Great Society,” “silent majority,” and numerous other political catchphrases.
“The Good Country,” by Jon Lauck, aims to reclaim cultural clout for the American Midwest through this history of its 19th century. Lauck has been carrying the banner for Midwest history for years. He was raised on a South Dakota farm, earned his doctorate in history at the University of Iowa, and currently teaches history and politics at the University of South Dakota. I purchased his book last month during his appearance at Raygun in downtown Des Moines—an event Lauck made it to despite the fact that, while on the way there, his car was stolen in Onawa, Iowa, and driven west across a few counties in Nebraska. (Long story short, he recovered the car thanks to an iPhone tracker.)
Thanks for rambling with me down these side streets.
Iowa Writers’ Collaborative Columnists
Laura Belin: Iowa Politics with Laura Belin, Windsor Heights
Doug Burns: The Iowa Mercury, Carroll
Dave Busiek: Dave Busiek on Media, Des Moines
Art Cullen: Art Cullen’s Notebook, Storm Lake
Suzanna de Baca Dispatches from the Heartland, Huxley
Debra Engle: A Whole New World, Madison County
Julie Gammack: Julie Gammack’s Iowa Potluck, Des Moines and Okoboji
Joe Geha: Fern and Joe, Ames
Jody Gifford: Benign Inspiration, West Des Moines
Nik Heftman, The Seven Times, Iowa and California
Beth Hoffman: In the Dirt, Lovilla
Dana James: New Black Iowa, Des Moines
Pat Kinney: View from Cedar Valley, Waterloo
Fern Kupfer: Fern and Joe, Ames
Robert Leonard: Deep Midwest: Politics and Culture, Bussey
Tar Macias: Hola Iowa, Iowa
Kurt Meyer, Showing Up, St. Ansgar
Kyle Munson, Kyle Munson’s Main Street, Des Moines
Jane Nguyen, The Asian Iowan, West Des Moines
John Naughton: My Life, in Color, Des Moines
Chuck Offenburger: Iowa Boy Chuck Offenburger, Jefferson and Des Moines
Barry Piatt: Piatt on Politic Behind the Curtain, Washington, D.C.
Macy Spensley, The Creative Midwesterner, Davenport/Des Moines
Mary Swander: Mary Swander’s Buggy Land, Kalona
Mary Swander: Mary Swander’s Emerging Voices, Kalona
Cheryl Tevis: Unfinished Business, Boone County
Ed Tibbetts: Along the Mississippi, Davenport
Teresa Zilk: Talking Good, Des Moines
To receive a weekly roundup of all Iowa Writers’ Collaborative columnists, sign up here (free): ROUNDUP COLUMN
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Kyle— What you call rambling was a good reminder to me to tackle a pile of books in the “one of these days” section along with some that merit a second read. Same goes with good movies on Netflix. One of the upsides to emerging senility is that I usually have forgotten enough to make the film entertaining on a second viewing. Same with your columns, all worthy of second helpings. Thank you!
Love the side street name and appreciated the info. Your writing is so distinctive and evocative. Thanks!