Skip to main content

Big River

     Hey, everyone. As I've mentioned before, I am a bit of an entertainment glutton. I read a lot, play a lot of I-Pad games, watch movies and television etc. Tonight I was scrounging through the satellite channels and ran across an old video I enjoyed. It was from the 1994 Montreux Jazz Festival. In my ignorance, I assumed that it was from Montreal , but I found that this festival is held in Switzerland every year, during July, and is the second biggest such gathering in the world behind one held in Montreal, Canada.
    Anyway, this particular video was of Johnny Cash and it was obviously in the latter stage of his life. I got a big kick out of it, because I love the "Man in Black". He had enough wind left to do a good job, even played harmonica a bit. It was nice to see his son, John Carter Cash, on stage with him, picking a guitar. Gee, wonder who taught him to play? June Carter Cash came out and did a few songs as well. Jackson, of course. When she sang Will the Circle Be Unbroken? with her husband and son, it gave me cold chills, knowing that she and Johnny had since went to join that great circle of family members who have gone to a better place.
      I liked hearing that big guitar in Ghost Riders In the Sky, the favorite of pickers everywhere. I am playing it on keyboard the last few weeks, wishing I could play it on guitar. Sigh...
     Johnny actually did several songs I had not heard, which freaked me out a bit. Oh, yeah, about the title of this post. Cash did his song, Big River, which I really like. I like the music a lot. It is about a guy with one of those wild, free-spirited women and their travels on an old time riverboat.
    As I sat and watched the elderly singer, I thought back to the time in the 1980's when Carley and I saw Johnny at the Kansas State Fair. I prefer to think of him the way I remember him from that day. His voice was so deep and strong. He was tall, dark and ruggedly handsome in that black suit, black shirt, and picking way up on the neck of that big, black guitar. Absolutely at home with all the Kansas folks because he was just like them; just country. It was a great place to see his show. We were sitting on an old wooden grandstand. It felt like maybe there had been horse-races there at one time, I don't know. Cash was very close to us. He seemed to linger and play, just because he liked it. Folks behind the stands were having dinner on the ground and I suspect he would have liked a piece of that fried chicken.
     I thought about this guy a bit. I thought about Lennon and McCartney digging his music and people like Elvis and Dylan who took some of their rebel vibes from his deck of cards. I remember how the critics tore at him, calling him One-note Johnny Cash and all that. He played concerts in prison. He wrote songs that resonated with common people, which is a cardinal sin in any artistic endeavor. My goodness, we forget what a songwriter he was!
    Not long ago, we went to Nashville and toured the Grand Ole Opry. Mr. Cash was one of the people that crossed my mind when I stood on that stage. I had to chuckle a few months ago when I was reading about how one of the Rolling Stones loved to play Johnny's tunes on guitar. Heck, most of the modern country music sounds like Rock from the 1960's. Whatever. Music is similar to books for me. As long as it's good, I don't care what label you hang on it.
     It was sad to see big John so old-looking. Unfortunately, time is like that Big River and it just keeps rolling.
    I'm CE Wills. 

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The White Chicken Mystery

    The other night I happened to come home very late. It was the middle of the night and I was driving up a steep mountain road. Near the top I saw something white in my headlights. It was standing in the other lane, standing very still. It was a large white chicken. It was probably a rooster because I thought I could see his comb as I whizzed by at my customary pace. He never moved a muscle. This is weird, don't you think?      After a couple of days to consider this phenomenon, I have come up with some plausible answers for his bizarre behavior. 1. He was conflicted whether or not he should cross the road. 2. He was feeling cocky and decided to play chicken with the traffic. 3.He was being hen-pecked at home and had decided to end it all. 4. Someone had egged him on to do it. 5. He had just watched the movie Fantastic Four and decided to try to stop a truck the way that Ben Grimm did on the bridge. 6. He had driven himself crazy wondering if ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Cake Is Better Than Swords

Hey, everyone. On Thanksgiving, we had a get-together here at The Author's Green Retreat. One lady brought a cake which I wanted to show you. It had the look of a Roman Coliseum about it. Inside it was just as decadent...and fun, as ancient Rome. When I cut it open, homemade marshmallow cream began to ooze out in several spots, running over the chocolate cake and peanut butter icing. It is best served warm so the cream is fluid. Very tasty. The same lady, and her children, are people who have played a lot of Skyrim. They gave me some pointers on the game because I am having problems with it. They taught me how to fast travel, and a ton of other things, but the main thing was the armor and clothing problem. This is a little embarrassing, but let me explain. Okay. For several weeks when I played, I would enter towns and everyone I met would comment on my nakedness. I would select a tunic and shoes, whatever, go back around people and they would say something about it. I guess I w...
Post a Comment
Read more

Egg Art

     Hey, everyone. One of the odd customs in America is the Easter Egg Hunt. Here at the Green Retreat, we do a hunt every Spring. I just ran across some of the pictures from this years hunt and it is obvious that an artist had sneaked into our midst. The orange egg is a rendering of one of the Angry Birds of gaming lore. If I were a bird and had to pass an egg that size, I would be angry too. Ha, ha.      We typically will dye about 10 dozen eggs and people get quite creative with their quotes and colors, as you can see. Many of the eggs are a bit risque for these pages. After having a few laughs, we hide the eggs. All of them are never found, which is cool. It is amusing to see old men (me) and all ages of folks, walking around with a basket on their arm. Some of the hiding spots are dastardly. Like eggs hidden in the guttering downspouts and ten foot up a tree. The kids are perhaps the most devious at hiding the colorful orbs, goi...
Post a Comment
Read more