The open source movement needs folk songs
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When I was young child, my family lived in New Delhi, India. My dad worked for UNICEF, and every summer our family would head up to the Himalayan mountains to escape New Delhi's scorching heat. At that higher altitude, in the cool mountain evenings, we'd gather around large bonfires with other expatriates, missionaries, and do-gooders. Assembled together in this way, we'd break out guitars and sing songs from the Civil Rights movement—occurring several thousand miles away. I was four years old at the time (in 1964), but I can remember it as if it were yesterday.
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