It was back in the late nineteen-fifties in the Upstate New York city of Rochester. A smart-mouth teenage Yankee boy growing up in the Rochester suburb of Greece, New York. Of course all of the urban action was not happening in Greece! Excitement was found in the "big city" fifteen minutes to the south.
I considered myself to be a fair guitar player on the leading edge of the "Rock and Roll Generation." Our band was called "The Fendertones" because I owned a Fender Stratocaster and my partner played a Fender Jazz Master. It was just the two of us, so to call it a real band was pushing the envelope of reality a bit.
We were both excited because we had scored two rare and expensive tickets to a limited edition Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Three concert at the Masonic Temple in Rochester. We were major fans of Johnny Cash and I was an admirer of lead guitar player, Luther Perkins. Luther was as much of Cash's sound as was the singer.
We arrived at the Masonic Temple about a half hour before the concert to find that our seats had been sold out from under us. That's right - no warning - no refund and, apparently, no consideration of us two teenaged boys from Greece, NY. It seemed that some Rochester big-wig and his wife were nestled comfortably in our front row seats. It didn't seem fair!
Time was winding down before the concert started and we still had no seats. I lamented in a not-too-quite voice, "So, we're just screwed out of our seats?"
"No one gets screwed out of their seats at my concerts," came a familiar voice. "Hello, I'm Johnny Cash, and we have some chairs on the left side of the stage by Luther. You should be able to see and hear just fine. Would that be to your liking?"
And that was the time I met a man who knew all the words to every Johnny Cash song.
Bitzy
I considered myself to be a fair guitar player on the leading edge of the "Rock and Roll Generation." Our band was called "The Fendertones" because I owned a Fender Stratocaster and my partner played a Fender Jazz Master. It was just the two of us, so to call it a real band was pushing the envelope of reality a bit.
We were both excited because we had scored two rare and expensive tickets to a limited edition Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Three concert at the Masonic Temple in Rochester. We were major fans of Johnny Cash and I was an admirer of lead guitar player, Luther Perkins. Luther was as much of Cash's sound as was the singer.
We arrived at the Masonic Temple about a half hour before the concert to find that our seats had been sold out from under us. That's right - no warning - no refund and, apparently, no consideration of us two teenaged boys from Greece, NY. It seemed that some Rochester big-wig and his wife were nestled comfortably in our front row seats. It didn't seem fair!
Time was winding down before the concert started and we still had no seats. I lamented in a not-too-quite voice, "So, we're just screwed out of our seats?"
"No one gets screwed out of their seats at my concerts," came a familiar voice. "Hello, I'm Johnny Cash, and we have some chairs on the left side of the stage by Luther. You should be able to see and hear just fine. Would that be to your liking?"
And that was the time I met a man who knew all the words to every Johnny Cash song.
Bitzy