Johnny Cash Unchained

If you haven't heard Johnny Cash "Unchained," you're missing something singular. It's part of the American Recordings discs, and if you don't have it, finish reading this blog, rush out and get it. Not a bad track to be found. Especially cool is the now-come-to-fruition completion of "Mean Eyed Cat," that never really was really finished, according to Cash. It needed something, he said, and after it had hung around for about forty years, he completed it. Wow.

What I'm Listening to and Why

Listening: An assortment of original pressing 45s on an antique RCA Victor record player - see my blog of Summer, 2007 concerning this piece of antiquity that I paid $85.00 for and ended up soaking another almost$175.00 into before it actually worked - glad I did, though. It's turned out to be quite the conversation piece. At least I like to talk about it because no one else has seen it or cares that I have it. Records slapping onto the turntable in the last few minutes:

"All of My Life," by Lesley Gore
"All In the Game," by Tommy Edwards
"I'm Not Afraid," by Ricky Nelson
"Twilight Time" by the Platters

I'm not writing about anything in particular todayso maybe this is the time to have a little go at the political scene.

President Bush is giving the State of Union Address this evening ("State of the Legacy," says Google); I'm wondering what he's going to have to say. According to Good Morning America the economny is heavy on his mind, followed quickly by Iraq. What else he's going to say is up for grabs, but I know it's going to be couched in terms that make him sound much better than he probably is. That's the state of politics, however. Tell them what you think they'll believe, what they want to hear and hit as more or less close to the truth as you can. Leave the rest for them to ponder.

"Alley Cat," by Bent Fabric just dropped onto the stack. Remember that song? No, of course you don't. . . .

Thoughts on Love

Listening: Johnny Cash "Unearthed," Disc Four, "My Mother's Hymnbook"

"Love makes your soul crawl out from its' hiding place. . . ."

-Quoted

Discussion Clutters: The 60s

Currently listening: a collection from the somewhat offbeat 1960s vocal group "Harper's Bizarre" that I legally downloaded and burned from I-Tunes. Don't even think for a minute I scarfed this stuff for free. They had a huge hit with Simon and Garfunkel's "59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy).



My at-work friend Steve used to be a pastor. He now drives a fork truck on the night crew in the plant where I have worked for almost 35 years. No, I am not thinking, even remotely, of retiring yet. Not when I can have passionate conversations about what came down in the 1960s. Actually, I'm surprised at how carried away I get with this topic and anyone listening from a distance would tend to think I am either a radical now or a throw-back to four decades ago. Neither is true. Actually, I think my world view has evened itself out. I have an appreciation for what has been, where I'm at, and where I'm going in the future. I'm at peace with myself, basically like myself, and everyone else. I can't think of anyone I dislike.



Let's move on. In this case, it means a bit of a reversal - to the mid-1960s.



What did my generation have going for it forty years ago? I've been thinking about this a lot.



We had passion and sensed the need for change. Some folks think that the Beatles came along and challenged conventional thinking, espeically after "Magical Mystery Tour," and "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band," but it seems to me that the seeds for questioning just about everything came years before that. After President Kennedy was gunned down in Dallas, there was an overall sense that things weren't as innocent and homey as we were led to believe on situation comedies of the day. Wise parents, obedient children, clean living rooms and kitchens were simply the brainchild of network set decorators. Harriet Nelson may have marched to the beat of her husband Ozzie's drum Friday nights on 1950s and early 1960s television, but the reality was more stark. With Kennedy's death and the farce of the Warren Commission stinking like a run down skunk in the middle of an interstate highway, young people and their parents clashed. Ideas, modes of dress, what was acceptable now open to question; the whole gamut came into the social crossfire. Dickens said it best. "It was the best of times, the worst of times."



Young people wanted nothing to do with a war in southeast Asia that, like its contemporary counterpart in Iraq, was unwinnable. We were fighting the "godless communists," (gotta love that phrase) and if one country, fell, what was to stop another from toppling like the next domino? Hence, the "domino theory," if it happens one place it's bound to happen in another place - or some such nonsense. I've often mused that communism may have been better than the carnage the war left, but that idea wasn't on the table. Credit Robert McNamara, Secretary of Defense under Lyndon Johnson, for having the guts to admit thirty years after the fact that we were wrong to get involved in that whole mess from the get-go. But, you know how it goes: proverbial hindsight is 20/20, foresight is -20 in both eyes.



We had passion, but we needed a plan: we knew what we wanted, an end to war; peace, equality, the rest of it, but I'm not so sure we had a method to work it all out. It was an ideal that wasn't thought out. Abbie Hoffman, David Dellinger, Jerry Rubin and the Chicago Seven mindset had the right idea in Chicago. The modus operandi, though, was somewhere out floating in Lake Michigan. At least these guys are remembered for their presence.

I'm getting fired up about now - Harper's Bizarre may have to be replaced by Cream or the Doors on the stereo if this keeps up. . . or is it possibly the coffee?

Having passion and a plan means that if many of us were thinking about what we wanted, we might have realized that change takes time. But passion, per se, was running high on both sides of the controversy, on the side of the young as well as the Establishment. Remember those patriotic construction workers in New York that attacked a peaceful anti-war demonstration? It was chaos. What surprises me these days is the apathy on full display on college campuses as an unjust, uncalled for, and totally wasteful revisiting of Vietnam is played out in the Middle East. The finest of our young people are volunteering, with all good intentions and patriotic visions. Many are coming back to a funeral. I never thought I would see the day when patriotism, or whatever it is, could cause young people possessed of promise and ambition to abandon their futures to enlist in a war that can't be won. And what's the plan for Iraq? Are we foolish enough to think the people of that country are going to embrace democracy as we know it? If that's the plan, let's check back in about 2,000 years. The entire region is a hotbed of hatred, violence, and terrorism and has been since before Saul of Tarsus was blinded by a light on the Damascus Road, culminating in one of the most dramatic Christian conversions in recorded history.

Change taking time - that's not what was on the 1960s agenda - we wanted change and we wanted it then; "We want the world and we want it now. . . " (Jim Morrison of the Doors). It didn't happen, but maybe my generation started something. We appraised the values we were raised with, questioned them, and wanted better. Perhaps looking over our shoulders, realizing that the world doesn't always respond as quickly as we think it should, helps us see what was right and wrong with our generation and the upheaval bring about. Maybe, just maybe, that backward glance can help us respond to the present generation, help them make plans for theirs and our future. JFK said it aptly: "We all inhabit the planet and breathe the same air." Why is it so hard to connect the dots?

Refusing To Be Average: Thoughts on Tozer

I have a couple well worn, aged, read and re-read paperbacks by Christian writer A.W. Tozer - of all the things he's written I guess I get hit square in the eye more by one statement: "Refuse To Be Average" than anything else. I guess that's not such a profound statement after all, but it's got a lot of weight to it. I would love to step out of the confining realm of "average," and actually be someone who's just a slight notch above. I'm not interested in turning water into wine, feeding multitudes with a loaf of bread and some lunch meat (bread and fish have been done already); I just want to be a person who makes a difference to someone. I guess I look to my inspiration Johnny Cash, who was anything but average, but he was un-average in a sort of low-key, inconspicuous way. He went out of his way to help someone, took chances with people no one else would have give a second thought, hence his Columbia Records Folsom Prison and San Quentin recordings of the 196os, and was a sort of Jesus-with-skin-on to the downtrodden, misunderstood, marginalized, the down-and-out. I just want to hit somewhere around that level, be a friend, a better listener, a more sympathetic heart. Let it start today, wherever I'm at, whatever I'm doing, no matter who the person is or whether they got the spot I wanted to park in at Wal-Mart.

January Blues!

The Big Christmas Letdown has begun. . .

"Holiday Inn" has been shown on television several times. What difference does that make, since you own it on DVD - in glorious black and white. It's now put away with the rest of the Christmas stuff, and you probably jammed it in the box with the decorations, burned out mini-lights you know will not work when you take them out of the box just after Thanksgiving in November later this year. Trust me, that time will be here before you know it. In the meantime, there seems to be an eternity of time between now and then.

If you're like me, you find a certain respite from all society has to offer during the holidays - it's a time to throw off the burden of routine and live a little - you look forward to giving and receiving presents, raising a cup of Christmas cheer (responsibily, I trust). But when the Season passes, it passes and there's more than a little letdown. Routine resumes, the weather continues to be frightful and fires and still delightful if a little lonely. Looking out the window you realize you have at least two months of cabin reclusiveness to deal with. Not a good prospect, I know. If you head out to the mall, you might be tempted to kill that melancholy with purchases you really don't need - things to make you feel better that are only going to make everything a lot worse when the bill arrives - it's over 20% on the unpaid balance, you know.

I've found a lot of solace from the January blues in a good book and couple that with a few good CDs - if you've still got an old record player, dig out some vintage 78s if there are any around - and stack them up on the changer. It'll take you back to a less complicated time (or does it just seem that way?), and for a time those old scratchy records might break the monotony while making January's dog days move a little more quickly by.

That's a real 78rpm record in the photo above - I know the technology is outdated, but what goes around, comes around, and eventually there's going to be a renewed interested in those old records - basically they're a dime a dozen for the time being - they sound old because they are old, but that ancient sound and scratchiness is part of the charm.

Inspiration, Where For Art Thou?

I get myself in quite a lather from time to time about inspiration, or the lack thereof. If I need a kick in the inspirational rear end, I listen to Johnny Cash. If he doesn't inspired you to attempt something, I don't know what will. I guess it's just his attitude - it's pretty laid back; he picked up on an idea and ran with it. This late and great country music icon crossed a lot of aesthetic boundaries well. He variously recorded with Bono, Trent Reznor, Fiona Apple, Lindsay Buckingham, and his work with the Highwaymen is classic. No wonder I get inspired. Listen to "Cash Unearthed," a 5-disc work chornicling some then-unreleased outtakes and more from the American Recordings sessions. His acoustic guitar and vocals are the essence of the sublime. This set may set you back some dollars, but it's money well spent. I'd rather have better stuff in my collection than a hodge podge of junk any day. Junk this ain't.

In that regard, I have a recommendation today for anyone struggling with the inspiration flow; for that person who is trying to put concise words and thoughts down either on paper or in cybserspace - get your inspiration from the Masters - those persons whose work motivates you to get out of a chair and get busy - no, you don't have to be that person, you don't have to imitate everything they do - just do what you do pushed along by individualism realizing that what you do is unique, your form of artistic expression be it music, writing; choose your passion and find someone doing it. What is it they do and why do they do it they way they do? What do you want to do and how will you present your particular passion?

Listening to Cash last night before retiring sort of mellowed the day out and reaffirmed my passion - it put some things in perspective, a rather "holy" one at that as I listened to some old hymns of the church as only Cash in his final days could render them - honestly. And that listening caused me to settle myself, focus, and go from there. Communicating ideas, not neceessarily "truth" in the strictest sense of the word, is what I like to do best. A challenge to conventional thinking, not converting someone to see it my way, is always my first pick of things to do. In doing so I might see or at least consider something that previously just sort of went in one ear and out the other. In short, I might see life from another vantage place.