Today, for some reason that I won't question but just accept, I found myself playing Johnny Cash songs on my guitar in the morning while sitting next to the bath tub as my little girl took a bath. We sang a few songs together. "Ring of Fire." "Cocaine Blues." "I Got Stripes." And we had a good time. Later in the afternoon, while flipping through TV stations aimlessly, I happened upon "Walk The Line," and as I pretty much always will when the movie is on, I stopped and watched for as long as I was able.
There's something about Johnny that's part father figure, part teacher, part preacher, and part sacred treasure. But there's also something about him that's part bad influence, part "the brother who went bad," part instigator, part rebel, and part forbidden fruit. It's amazing to me how someone so easily jumped across the line that marks decency and could still become so universally revered. Sing hymns and sing about murder with equal conviction and with utter power.
There aren't too many singers who travel with you throughout the decades of your life, singers who you routinely turn to again and again. There aren't too many singers you accept as completely authentic from the first hearing and never waver on that belief. There aren't too many artists who you feel compelled to listen to, as if there's a calling higher than anything you could imagine is at work and demands and commands you to set eyes on that which is weaving magic over you. That's what Johnny Cash has always been for me, a calling. A pull. A magnet. Whether it was hearing "A Boy Named Sue" or "If I Was A Carpenter" on my dad's old LPs as a kid or "Delia's Gone" as an adult, there's never been a time when I wasn't a member of the Church of Johnny.
Three of the greatest days of my life where standing in Sun Studios at separate times, a place where Johnny Cash, Elvis, Carl Perkins, and Jerry Lee Lewis all walked the floors. As much as I revere Jerry Lee and Elvis, I admirer Johnny Cash. I put him on a higher level. I see him in a slightly different light. He's the real deal. A man of earth, heaven, and hell.
For whatever reason things occur in the manner that they do, I'm thankful this Sunday was one filled with Cash.
Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson along with so many others were such an influence in my early years as well, and continue to be. When I can't seem to find common ground with my father, I know we'll always be able to connect through music.
ReplyDeleteGreat post.