Young and, he says now, "dumb as an east Texas rock," Bob Barnes joined the Army as the Vietnam War raged. Bound for that conflict, he changed his mind, applied for conscientious objector status and in 1970 made his way to Seattle, a few hours from Canada, he says, just in case the military deemed him suitably conscientiousless. This is where he's stayed since, the birthplace of his activism and of his distaste for the boring and poorly miked rallies he endured as Vietnam became El Salvador.
And so right around Gulf War I he enlivened public activism by cofounding Rise Up Productions, using music and sound equipment "to leave people fired up instead of making them leave early," he says.
There are moments when people united around an issue find, as a welcome but unintended consequence, that they're having fun together; when the long meetings and the arcana of group decision making pays off in smiles and laughter and maybe a booty-shaking interlude by a stack of amps in the middle of Westlake Park. When protest is fun, when music is played and even the kids like it, Bob Barnes may be owed a word of thanks.