Tag: protest

Getting Schooled on Springsteen and American Music

We visited a new building on campus to sing about. Bruce Springsteen has donated his archives to the public as part of the story of American music. And it here in New Jersey down the shore!

As the convertible top magically lifted and then disappeared behind us, the radio played loudly. My friend George Kachoogian and I were headed out in his 2010 Mustang gold convertible for our latest adventure. It seemed fitting for two old guys to drive a “hot car” to learn about Jersey lore and the popular music that’s been the soundtrack of our lives for many years.

Our destination was the newly constructed Bruce Springsteen Archives Center for American Music (BSACAM) that opened on June 13, 2026 in West Long Branch, NJ. We were there to discover what made Bruce Springsteen and American music special. This time it was not about listening to particular songs or a concert, but the act of getting closer to the artists, the culture, and the relics that spurred this creativity.

The New Building on Campus

There’s no doubt that New Jersey helped shape Bruce Springsteen. Now, Bruce is giving back to the state by supporting a museum dedicated to the broader history of American music and his evolution as an artist.

The $50 million 32,000-square-foot Center is housed in a striking, industrial-style building on the lush and stately campus of Monmouth University. The University hopes to integrate the Center into its curriculum and make its collections available as a research resource. The Center features exhibition galleries, archives, immersive interactive experiences, and a performance theater.

The origin story of the Center begins with a group of Bruce fans, who over many years, collected memorabilia and artifacts of Bruce. About nine years ago, largely through the efforts of Bob Santelli – a well-known NJ music industry author, promoter, and friend of Bruce – a nonprofit organization was created to develop an exhibit space on land provided by Monmouth University. While much of the content they had related to Springsteen, Bruce insisted that the Center not focus solely on him, but rather tell the broader story of American music.

“I’m a small link in a big chain. I’m the guy that came along and kind of picked up the flag. That’s the way it works. You run with it for a while, and you pass it on to the next guy. I think the center reflects that.”

Bruce Springsteen to the New York Times

This new, but rusty-steel looking building has a wide, welcoming entrance framed by low-lying plants. We learned later that it was intentionally designed to convey a Jersey-like factory surrounded by dune plants and approached by a boardwalk. In other words, it is classic Bruce style meant to honor his home state and the Jersey shore area that helped shape him.

As we entered the large atrium, we were warmly greeted by a volunteer docent who provided basic information and recommended where to begin our building tour.

Our helpful docent and George

Based on the docent’s recommendation, we began in the theater watching the special 25-minute documentary by Thom Zimny called The Ties That Bind: Bruce Springsteen’s American Music Journey. The film places Springsteen’s career within the broader story of American music. It’s a high-quality film shown exclusively in the Center’s impressive 250-seat theater and is not available online.

First Floor – American Music

Perhaps the most absorbing and time-consuming area is the first floor, where exhibits display and tell the story of many musicians and songwriters across a wide range of genres. It demonstrates how different genres from country and blues to jazz and rock and roll—influenced one another.

Display cases house artifacts, including Michael Jackson’s sequined glove, Louis Armstrong’s trumpet, John Coltrane’s sax, Ella Fitzgerald’s dress, Elvis’ jacket, Frank Sinatra’s shoes, a letter Buddy Holly wrote to his mom, a Lady Gaga costume, and more. Most of these items have been donated or are on loan to the museum, which will feature expanding and rotating collections representing many artists.

There is a large wall known as the American Music Sound Bar where visitors can listen to music by genre and learn where each style originated. It is a place to connect the dots, to trace and connect a certain sound to where it started and flourished. The display of album covers is especially captivating for anyone who remembers the great days of 78 LPs. Each one calls up memories of songs, groups and past glory days. You could easily spend hours here just exploring!

Second Floor – Bruce’s Career and Chimes of Freedom Exhibit

Bruce Springsteen’s career is traced through the decades, along with members of the E Street Band. The exhibits include original song drafts and many images captured by famous photographers. There is even a unique video projection that explores Springsteen’s self-education from reluctant to voracious reader, an evolution that helped shape his song writing and artistry.

A small immersion theater room offers visitors an opportunity to experience the energy of being at a Bruce concert. Then there is the Archives room. Bruce has donated countless artifacts from his life, many of which are in storage rather than placed on display. These materials can be viewed digitally and researched for those studying his life and art. A limited number of visitors may explore the categorized documents to gain a better understanding of Bruce’s life and how it fits into the broader American music narrative.

Bruce is well known for his concern and support of many causes. During the recent innocent deaths and protests against ICE in Minneapolis, Bruce once again made a strong statement of protest in his song, “The Streets of Minneapolis.” That dedication to the power of a protest song led to the Center’s first special exhibit – Chimes of Freedom: Protest, Patriotism and the Power of Song — which highlights how revolutionary songs ranging from “Yankee Doodle” to the civil rights to antiwar anthems of the 1960s to today’s protest songs influenced politics and popular culture.

“I’ve written a lot of music that has political implications, and what I would call critically patriotic, which is really my definition of a patriot.”

Bruce Springsteen

Graduation Time

After a couple hours, we left the Center with both rekindled memories and new questions to ponder. American music is like a puzzle. The pieces may not seem to fit together, especially when there’s such different times, places, sounds and characters, but here they do.

As we exited the Center – as luck or providence would have it – we found ourselves face-to-face with a familiar looking man headed in. He asked us, “So what did you think of the Center?” We told him it was a greater than expected experience, and we planned to return to spend more time there. On a whim, I asked him his name, and he replied “Bob Santelli, I’m the Director of the Center.” Wow, what a fitting end to our visit: we had met the Center’s founder and director himself who was especially warm and grateful for our visit.

Bob Santelli at BSACAN

It seemed, at least for that moment, we became part of the American music legend.

Visitor Notes

Visitors should allow at least two hours for the visit and buy tickets online. Tickets are reasonably priced at $22 for adults, with discounts for seniors, children (7 to 17), and veterans. Children under 7, active military, and Monmouth University students can enter free.

Sources

A Protester in Training: How Activism Became My New Form of Fitness

After decades of staying quiet, I stepped into the streets. What I discovered surprised me: protesting isn’t just a political act—it’s a personal practice that builds resilience, awareness, and a sense of belonging.

Like running, protesting requires practice, discipline, and belief that your effort matters—even when you feel alone.

After joining six protests over the past two months, the experience finally started to feel familiar. I began to understand what it was all about. There’s a reason, a rhythm, and even a reward to protesting that I hadn’t grasped before. Still, something instinctual pushed me into it—more impulse than logic.

Protesting doesn’t come naturally. In everyday life, when things are relatively calm, most of us try not to rock the boat. We avoid confrontation, sidestep discomfort. We’re taught to “suck it up” and “don’t be a complainer.” After all, there’s always someone worse off, right? And then there’s the risk—stirring the pot can bring consequences, especially from those who’d rather you simply “behave.” At my age—77—I could easily ask, who needs the trouble?

But what do you do when logic, reason, and normality seem to vanish? Do you just complain? Do you tune out? Seek comfort from friends? That’s where protesting comes in—not just as a solution, but as a kind of therapy.

Fifty years ago, before fitness was even trendy, I took up running as a personal challenge. Back then, adult recreational running was unusual. But as marathons and Olympic athletes captured public attention, the idea caught on. We began to believe that even the average person could strive for something great—even if the race was personal.

Running took a leap of faith. It demanded hard physical work, but promised positive results—mental clarity, health, confidence. It was lonely at first, with little guidance and few role models. But it became a habit. And eventually, the world caught up. Running went from fringe to mainstream.

Now, since January 20th, I’ve taken up a new “sport”: protesting. Frustrated with the state of the nation and the new administration, I turned to activism not just as civic duty—but for my own mental fitness. And like running, protesting requires practice, resilience, and a belief that effort matters.

First, it takes mental toughness to shake off apathy. You need to believe that one person can make a difference—especially when standing with others. And yes, there’s a kind of performance involved. Maybe you’re just holding a sign in silence. Maybe you’re shouting chants or singing satirical songs about a congressman or the president. It can feel awkward or corny at times. But it can also feel exactly right—like you’re doing what needs to be done. Like you’re part of something larger, and your voice is finally being heard.

There’s power in simply showing up. A sign in hand can be the first step toward change.

So, I’ve come to believe we must train ourselves—just like athletes—to overcome political passivity. With every new day of shock and awe, we grow stronger, more aware, more ready to push back. Protesting may not fix everything, but it sends a clear message: we will not sit quietly and watch democracy fade.

Poster for a Missing Tom Kean, Jr, who is notorious for not mneeting with his constiutents.

Scalpel vs Chainsaw

A chainsaw cuts through the trunk but roots remain. Protests are like a thousand surgical cuts, exacting a slow painful death for Tesla.

It was my second protest.

Our target was a newly born corporate giant – Tesla, Inc.

It had the potential to grow into mighty beneficial force only to turn lately into a funding source for a fascist. 

Tesla is a corporation led by a charismatic leader who promised a new world of consumer choice with environmental benefits, a cool modern design and a refreshingly new use of energy; only to use his influence and money he earned from his venture to tear down our democracy.

Fortunately, then unfortunately, Tesla grew up to become the step-child of Elon Musk who is a larger-than-life leader responsible for building a good intentioned company; only to become a pawn in his egotistical fantasy and global politics.

About a week ago, I protested in Trenton at the state capitol building as a general protest of the policies and executive orders of Trump and Musk. I considered that protest a warm-up and learning experience for a rookie. Being a quiet President’s Day in the city, it became apparent that we (about 500) were mostly preaching to the choir. You can’t help but ask yourself at the scene, “Who knows we we are here with our message?” With little traffic and little press coverage, I left there thinking it was worth the effort but it could have been much more. Confessions of a Reluctant Protester.

Paul with protest sign
Paul’s sign for Tesla protest

But today, Saturday, March 1, 2025, promised to be a more targeted effort. A Tesla Takedown. We were after Elon Musk’s primary source of wealth and income by loudly demonstrating in front of a Tesla showroom on Route 22, Springfield NJ – a notoriously busy commercial highway. It happens that Tesla vehicles can only be bought online. But, they are typically picked up and serviced at the few regional showrooms. Since, there are no dealerships, any effect that can be made at a showroom is directly on the company and not any independent dealer.

Outside Staples in Springfield ready to protest across the street

I heard of the hastily planned protest by SOMA Action thru posts on Facebook Group Lean On Us and registered for the event. Our group (estimated at 220) met across the street near a Staples, ready with signs and some general guidelines – Don’t block the showroom, don’t interact if there are counter-protesters and always safety-first. Luckily, there was plenty of parking nearby and a grassy shoulder right in front of the Tesla showroom facing Route 22.

protest
protest
protest

The weather was cold and windy but the traffic was constant and moving slowly as they saw an impressive protesting crowd yelling loudly and waving signs they could not miss. Our enthusiastic group of all ages yelled to chants such as “Hey, hey, ho, ho, Elon Musk has got to go!” As cars were going by at 20 mph, horns were blaring in support. Even more strangely, many passengers (and even some drivers) were video-recording the protest on their smartphones as they passed by. It seemed mostly positive support, in spite of the fact that we were causing a major slowdown! 

Protesting in front of Tesla showroom in Springfield NJ

A steady stream of traffic, including local police and Tesla owners drove by from noon to 1:30. I felt tired yet relieved. We all came away with the feeling that this was an effective protest having been seen and heard by several hundred, if not thousands, in a very short time. 

I know if I owned a Tesla, whether or not I believed in what Musk-Trump was doing, I might think hard about conveying a negative feeling. Does the car now represent a political point of view? Has the brand and value of my Tesla been trashed? Being able to generate those feelings is a victory, however small, for democracy by my account. 

If Musk-Trump can “chainsaw” government services at the elevated organization level by cutting thousands of jobs at once, maybe enough motivated individuals can surgically cut into organizations like Tesla with a “scalpel” using various forms of protests that destroy the brand and negatively affect sales over time.

Tesla’s role as a pioneer in electric vehicles is over. Today, there are plenty of companies that can offer a better product without the dirty laundry. We can put capitalism to work if we all get out our scalpels and carve Tesla into a pariah. A slow death for Tesla, by a thousand cuts, would be sweet justice and a fitting contrast to a chainsaw massacre. 

More Thomas Paine words of wisdom in troubled times….