Goodbye to Another Legend
They are laying George Jones to rest today in Nashville.
He was always one of my parents' favorite singers, and I grew up listening to George Jones.
He was one of those superstars who transcended musical boundaries (back when music had boundaries, that is. Today, there is no discernible difference between rock, country or pop).
Even the hardest of hardcore metalheads knew who George Jones was. But he wasn't scoffed at. He was respected. To paraphrase his hit duet with Barbara Mandrell: he was country, but he was cool.
A few years ago I read Jones' memoir, the aptly titled, I Lived To Tell It All. It was a well-written, entertaining read, and to say the man lived a hard life is a huge understatement.
I remember a particularly funny story from the book: Jones' wife had to run some errands, but before she left the house, she smartly hid his car keys from him so he couldn't drive while shit-faced.
So he did what any country boy would do... he took the riding lawn mower eight miles to the nearest bottle shop:
Let's just say he had an affinity for mind-altering beverages and was often too drunk to perform. In fact, he "earned" the nickname "No Show Jones," because nobody knew if he would actually appear for a scheduled concert until he was actually on stage.
You could say he made W. Axl Rose look like a choirboy.
Eventually Jones cleaned up and he remained sober for the last 25 years of his life.
He had an incredible 77 top ten singles, including 14 number one hits in his career, most of which I can sing by heart.
And even if you didn't grow up with George Jones playing on your living room Coronado hi-fi, you still knew his songs.
"He Stopped Loving Her Today," "She Thinks I Still Care," "The Race Is On," ... and countless others were (and are) simply a part of our social fabric. You still hear these songs everywhere. More often than not, you're not even aware it's George Jones. His voice is simply in the air. It's just, well, there.
And his music is certainly on "side one" of the soundtrack of my childhood.
Fads will come and go. There will always be a flavor of the day.
But legends never die.
He was always one of my parents' favorite singers, and I grew up listening to George Jones.
He was one of those superstars who transcended musical boundaries (back when music had boundaries, that is. Today, there is no discernible difference between rock, country or pop).
Even the hardest of hardcore metalheads knew who George Jones was. But he wasn't scoffed at. He was respected. To paraphrase his hit duet with Barbara Mandrell: he was country, but he was cool.
 |
| He lived hard. He played hard. He was a legend. |
A few years ago I read Jones' memoir, the aptly titled, I Lived To Tell It All. It was a well-written, entertaining read, and to say the man lived a hard life is a huge understatement.
I remember a particularly funny story from the book: Jones' wife had to run some errands, but before she left the house, she smartly hid his car keys from him so he couldn't drive while shit-faced.
So he did what any country boy would do... he took the riding lawn mower eight miles to the nearest bottle shop:
I imagine the top speed for that old mower was five miles per hour. It might have taken an hour and a half or more for me to get to the liquor store, but get there I did.
-- from I Lived To Tell It All
 |
| A sober Jones on his famous John Deere lawn mower. He was able to laugh at himself once he cleaned up. |
Let's just say he had an affinity for mind-altering beverages and was often too drunk to perform. In fact, he "earned" the nickname "No Show Jones," because nobody knew if he would actually appear for a scheduled concert until he was actually on stage.
You could say he made W. Axl Rose look like a choirboy.
Eventually Jones cleaned up and he remained sober for the last 25 years of his life.
He had an incredible 77 top ten singles, including 14 number one hits in his career, most of which I can sing by heart.
And even if you didn't grow up with George Jones playing on your living room Coronado hi-fi, you still knew his songs.
"He Stopped Loving Her Today," "She Thinks I Still Care," "The Race Is On," ... and countless others were (and are) simply a part of our social fabric. You still hear these songs everywhere. More often than not, you're not even aware it's George Jones. His voice is simply in the air. It's just, well, there.
And his music is certainly on "side one" of the soundtrack of my childhood.
Fads will come and go. There will always be a flavor of the day.
But legends never die.
