Johnny Cash Only
- Thread starter Meanderer
- Start date
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Aunt Bea
SF VIP
- Location
- Near Mount Pilot
And I heard as it were the noise of thunder
One of the four beasts saying come and see and I saw
And behold a white horse
There's a man going around taking names
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be treated all the same
There'll be a golden ladder reaching down
When the Man comes around
The hairs on your arm will stand up
At the terror in each sip and in each sup
Will you partake of that last offered cup?
Or disappear into the potter's ground
When the Man comes around
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling, voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
It's Alpha and Omega's kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
Till Armageddon no shalam, no shalom
Then the father hen will call his chickens home
The wise man will bow down before the throne
And at His feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the Man comes around
Whoever is unjust let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still
Whoever is filthy let him be filthy still
Listen to the words long written down
When the Man comes around
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
It's Alpha and Omega's kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
In measured hundred weight and penney pound
When the Man comes around.
Close (Spoken part)
And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts
And I looked and behold, a pale horse
And his name that sat on him was Death
And Hell followed with him.
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Meanderer
Supreme Member
Meeting Johnny Cash
By Hope Groves
2/26/2013
“When Jennifer Lawrence fell down on her way to accept her Oscar for Best Actress, we heard the world gasp.
That poor girl, they said.
Oh, the horror.
I said, “Good for her! That’s fabulous!”
Who wouldn’t mind taking a spill up the stairs in an amazing gown on the way to collect an Oscar for Best Actress? Maybe I’m crazy (stop nodding), but I wouldn’t care if I fell face first and broke my nose in front of millions of people if, when I stood back up, I was going to have an Oscar in my sweaty, bloody hands”.
“It’s all in the way you look at it, isn’t it?
“I thought of gorgeous Jennifer’s spill on the steps this morning when I noticed that today would have been Johnny Cash’s 81st birthday. I got the opportunity to meet Johnny Cash once, quite unexpectedly, and I guess you could say I sort of tripped on the steps a bit.
“My first job was as a front desk clerk at the Ramada Inn, now long gone. Located just down the highway from the Little Opry (also sadly no longer there), we were fortunate enough to be situated in an ideal location for the big names that performed there. It meant that at just sixteen, I could count on checking in, checking out or arranging a wake-up call for Marty Stuart or Carlene Carter or a long list of country music names and their traveling entourage.
“One weekend, we had a block of rooms with an obviously fake name attached. I knew this meant that someone really, really good was staying in the hotel but I knew better than to ask my manager for any scoop. When I checked in a woman named Roseanne Cash, my heart stopped. Although I knew that Johnny Cash preferred to stay on his bus, it was still possible that I might see him. Even if I didn’t see The Man himself, there I was, checking in Roseanne. That was enough for me.
“As I waited for the night auditor to arrive to relieve me from my shift that night, someone phoned the desk from one of the rooms in their block. The man asked if we had anyone available to make a few photocopies for a guest at that hour. I would have hand-written copies of the Declaration of Independence for someone who had been near Johnny Cash, so I said of course, please! I remember checking the clock and thinking that they’d better hustle if they were going to get copies made by me. Maurice, the night auditor, would be in any moment and it would crush me if I missed this opportunity.
“A few moments later, a man walked from one wing of the hotel through the lobby to the other wing, then back again. He was carrying a few papers in his hand, but he didn’t stop at the front desk. I wondered if he’d somehow missed that I was there, waiting for these papers that needed to be copied. These papers that May or May Not Have Been Touched by Johnny Cash.
He returned a moment later from the hallway. With. Johnny. Cash.
“He was a mile taller than I would have guessed. His hair was wet. He must have performed at the Little Opry and returned, showered and joined this man who needed the copies. Although I certainly felt like I couldn’t breathe, I must have been panting because I could smell him.
“I could smell Johnny Cash. He was smiling, obviously amused that he had rattled this front desk clerk.
“I led them through the doorway to the office where I could make the photocopies they wanted. I couldn’t think of anything to say, but if I know me, I said plenty of stupid things anyway.
“I picked up the pages from the machine, turned to face Johnny Cash, and held those papers out to him in my trembling hands.
“I looked up at him, but froze and looked back down at the papers that we were both now holding.
“I am holding the same pieces of paper as Johnny Cash. The papers are in my hands. The papers are in his hands. Johnny Cash and me. We’re like this. We are holding the same pieces of paper.
And then it happened.
“A booger flew out of my nose and landed right on the papers we were both holding.
“YES. You read that right. One tiny but unmistakable piece of nose gold laid there on those precious pages I clutched in my hands with Johnny Cash.
“He shook the pages, tossing my shame off of the copies and away from us both. He thanked me for making the copies and asked me if there was a fee. Of course there was a fee, but I couldn’t recall what it was and I assured him it was at no charge. I have no idea what I said, but I was so mortified that I would have said anything, even ‘Abracadabra!’ if it would have made me disappear in that moment.
“I led the two of them back through the office door and watched, frozen and stunned speechless, as they walked back through the lobby and down the hallway of the hotel. I waited and watched, expecting Johnny Cash to whisper to his friend about what had just happened. He didn’t. They just walked away.
“The next morning, I reported to work and was given an autographed picture of Johnny Cash by the night auditor. He told me ‘that bunch’ in the private block of rooms had left it for the girl who worked night shift. That picture was a sweet gesture, but nothing was as sweet as the way Johnny Cash allowed this silly, starstruck teenager to humiliate herself all over him.
“So thanks, Johnny Cash. I might have embarrassed myself in the process, but I still got to meet you”.
By Hope Groves
2/26/2013
“When Jennifer Lawrence fell down on her way to accept her Oscar for Best Actress, we heard the world gasp.
That poor girl, they said.
Oh, the horror.
I said, “Good for her! That’s fabulous!”
Who wouldn’t mind taking a spill up the stairs in an amazing gown on the way to collect an Oscar for Best Actress? Maybe I’m crazy (stop nodding), but I wouldn’t care if I fell face first and broke my nose in front of millions of people if, when I stood back up, I was going to have an Oscar in my sweaty, bloody hands”.
“It’s all in the way you look at it, isn’t it?
“I thought of gorgeous Jennifer’s spill on the steps this morning when I noticed that today would have been Johnny Cash’s 81st birthday. I got the opportunity to meet Johnny Cash once, quite unexpectedly, and I guess you could say I sort of tripped on the steps a bit.
“My first job was as a front desk clerk at the Ramada Inn, now long gone. Located just down the highway from the Little Opry (also sadly no longer there), we were fortunate enough to be situated in an ideal location for the big names that performed there. It meant that at just sixteen, I could count on checking in, checking out or arranging a wake-up call for Marty Stuart or Carlene Carter or a long list of country music names and their traveling entourage.
“One weekend, we had a block of rooms with an obviously fake name attached. I knew this meant that someone really, really good was staying in the hotel but I knew better than to ask my manager for any scoop. When I checked in a woman named Roseanne Cash, my heart stopped. Although I knew that Johnny Cash preferred to stay on his bus, it was still possible that I might see him. Even if I didn’t see The Man himself, there I was, checking in Roseanne. That was enough for me.
“As I waited for the night auditor to arrive to relieve me from my shift that night, someone phoned the desk from one of the rooms in their block. The man asked if we had anyone available to make a few photocopies for a guest at that hour. I would have hand-written copies of the Declaration of Independence for someone who had been near Johnny Cash, so I said of course, please! I remember checking the clock and thinking that they’d better hustle if they were going to get copies made by me. Maurice, the night auditor, would be in any moment and it would crush me if I missed this opportunity.
“A few moments later, a man walked from one wing of the hotel through the lobby to the other wing, then back again. He was carrying a few papers in his hand, but he didn’t stop at the front desk. I wondered if he’d somehow missed that I was there, waiting for these papers that needed to be copied. These papers that May or May Not Have Been Touched by Johnny Cash.
He returned a moment later from the hallway. With. Johnny. Cash.
“He was a mile taller than I would have guessed. His hair was wet. He must have performed at the Little Opry and returned, showered and joined this man who needed the copies. Although I certainly felt like I couldn’t breathe, I must have been panting because I could smell him.
“I could smell Johnny Cash. He was smiling, obviously amused that he had rattled this front desk clerk.
“I led them through the doorway to the office where I could make the photocopies they wanted. I couldn’t think of anything to say, but if I know me, I said plenty of stupid things anyway.
“I picked up the pages from the machine, turned to face Johnny Cash, and held those papers out to him in my trembling hands.
“I looked up at him, but froze and looked back down at the papers that we were both now holding.
“I am holding the same pieces of paper as Johnny Cash. The papers are in my hands. The papers are in his hands. Johnny Cash and me. We’re like this. We are holding the same pieces of paper.
And then it happened.
“A booger flew out of my nose and landed right on the papers we were both holding.
“YES. You read that right. One tiny but unmistakable piece of nose gold laid there on those precious pages I clutched in my hands with Johnny Cash.
“He shook the pages, tossing my shame off of the copies and away from us both. He thanked me for making the copies and asked me if there was a fee. Of course there was a fee, but I couldn’t recall what it was and I assured him it was at no charge. I have no idea what I said, but I was so mortified that I would have said anything, even ‘Abracadabra!’ if it would have made me disappear in that moment.
“I led the two of them back through the office door and watched, frozen and stunned speechless, as they walked back through the lobby and down the hallway of the hotel. I waited and watched, expecting Johnny Cash to whisper to his friend about what had just happened. He didn’t. They just walked away.
“The next morning, I reported to work and was given an autographed picture of Johnny Cash by the night auditor. He told me ‘that bunch’ in the private block of rooms had left it for the girl who worked night shift. That picture was a sweet gesture, but nothing was as sweet as the way Johnny Cash allowed this silly, starstruck teenager to humiliate herself all over him.
“So thanks, Johnny Cash. I might have embarrassed myself in the process, but I still got to meet you”.
Last edited:
Meanderer
Supreme Member
When I was 13, my older Brother, John was a huge Johnny Cash fan. He had all of his records...or most of them. I share the same birthday Month & day with JC. (When I was born, Johnny would have been 11) I have been a member of the Johnny Cash Forum, and some years back they re-formatted it with a smaller membership. Recently, around the start of the year, it was ended permanently. It was started when John was alive, and around 13 years after his death, it was over. It had become a crowing contest among the members, instead about Johnny (IMO). It was time. I enjoyed the forum and learned a lot about this giant of a man who led two lives: JR Cash, and Johnny Cash.
Last edited:
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Aunt Bea
SF VIP
- Location
- Near Mount Pilot
Aunt Bea
SF VIP
- Location
- Near Mount Pilot
Meanderer
Supreme Member
SB,that was wonderful! Thanks for sharing that! This version of "Blowin in the wind" is a good example of how John could take a familiar song, and "make it his own". His version is unlike any played by others over the years! He brings a whole new energy to it! He looks a little lank and has some sharp edges to his features, I hate to see him looking old and ill. Thanks again!
Aunt Bea
SF VIP
- Location
- Near Mount Pilot
Very sad.
It seems like legendary performers always do just one too many performances.