Ground Report

My friend Dan invited me to the anti-fracking demonstration in Albany on Monday, June 17. We drove up in his 1994 Honda, through the shining morning, beneath sour cream clouds. Seven miles outside of Albany, the traffic suddenly halted. “Must be an accident,” observed Dan, taking the first exit, through bucolic small-town life — we passed Bethlehem! Arriving in Albany, we found a parking garage six minutes by foot from the Capitol. They don’t call it “Smallbany” for nothing.

The demonstration was not huge, but more people were arriving — they were stuck in that same traffic jam we wisely avoided. In the meantime, Natalie Merchant and a group of children sang “I Don’t Want Your Millions, Mister,” re-written for this movement:

All I want is the right to live, Mister;
You can’t lease my land from me.

Natalie has a classic voice: warm and confiding. Meanwhile, I took out a blue magic marker and began writing signs: “It Is Evil to Gamble with Human Life,” “Stop Calling It ‘Natural’ Gas,” “Silence = Death,” “Halt the Machine!”, “They Play with Our World Like It’s Their Little Toy,” “Slackers Against Frackers.”

Near me stood Elmo, the famous Muppet — life-size! — with a poster: “Elmo Says Clean Energy Now”. A bearded man with a fool’s cap wore a T-shirt with the handwritten slogans: “Be a fossil fool. Drive more! Fly more! Be fuelish! Join fossilfools.org!”

The rest of our fellow protesters arrived, and the speakers began. The speechmakers were brief, informative, upbeat. This is the new radical politics, where activists need not scream, or prove they’re more “Left” than everyone else. In fact, this is not a liberal or conservative issue, several speakers said. It’s about preserving the water table for our children. Oren Lyons, of the Onondaga Nation, addressed Governor Cuomo: “If you want to be President, you can’t frack!” Behind him was a sign: “Warning: Massive Civil Disobedience Is Next.”

Larry Bennett of the Ommegang Brewery said: “It’s an outrage to pollute the water of the 121 breweries currently operating in New York. It’s an outrage to pollute the water of the 61 cider mills in this state. It’s an outrage to endanger our $100 billion tourist industry.” (This might work, I thought. Politicians care about two things: money and votes.)

Five minutes after the demonstration ended, a massive, howling thunderstorm struck, like an avenging angel. Returning to the car, I took shelter beneath an elevated walkway. Nearby stood a security guard, a man in his 20s with very blue eyes.

“Does it always get this windy?” I asked.

“Seems like it’s been more in the last couple years,” he replied.

“I don’t know this area; I’m just here to protest fracking.
How long have you worked here?”

“Five years.”

“What is this place?”

“It’s the New York State Comptroller’s Office.”

It was time for the security guard to return inside. “Thank you for demonstrating,” he said shyly.