American Finger

"American Finger," February 2011, in Johnny's second frame.

"You've got to know your limitations. I don't know what your limitations are. I found out what mine were when I was 12. I found out that there weren't too many limitations, if I did it my way.” -- Johnny Cash

This is country music, and it's rock and roll.
The iconic finger photo of Johnny Cash was shot at a 1969 concert at California’s San Quentin prison. Legend has it that the photographer, Jim Marshall, had asked Cash for a shot "for the warden."


“Sometimes I am two people. Johnny is the nice one. Cash causes all the trouble. They fight.”

 

I have had this picture in a small frame, in various places in my home office, for probably 15 years.  I'd cut it out of a Rolling Stone magazine. Always thought it was cool, always wanted to draw a great big version and finally did. I've been advised not to hang it up at work, aimed at certain desks.

Some people just won't appreciate the art of it.

“I love songs about horses, railroads, land, Judgment Day, family, hard times, whiskey, courtship, marriage, adultery, separation, murder, war, prison, rambling, damnation, home, salvation, death, pride, humor, piety, rebellion, patriotism, larceny, determination, tragedy, rowdiness, heartbreak and love. And Mother. And God.”

I was 8 years old in 1969 (thereabouts) and I first heard the San Quentin record in my Aunt Maxine and Uncle Stu's family room in New Bethlehem, Pa. I didn't really know what I was hearing. I just knew that I liked records, loved record players -- and that the relatives had a pile of 'em that were new to me. So, Johnny. And 'A Boy Named Sue."  Cash cut the Shel Silverstein-penned song live at the prison.


"After about three lessons the voice teacher said, "Don't take voice lessons. Do it your way."”

Some decades later I discovered another Cash classic, "Ring of Fire." It was Frank Zappa's version, at first. And Frank was talking about a whole 'nuther type of ring. ("It burns ..." )   I do have the original Cash Ring of Fire album on Columbia Records, however, in glorious monophonic sound. Love that record.

Growing up, the only Johnny Cash record we ever had at home was my mother's copy of Orange Blossom Special, which I liked mostly because it had a boxcar on the cover. My dad, brother and I had a thing for trains. Still have the album. Long ago sold my electric trains (and miss 'em.)

“My father was a man of love. He always loved me to death. He worked hard in the fields, but my father never hit me. Never. I don't ever remember a really cross, unkind word from my father."

Cash was popular, and prolific. The pile of vinyl below only begins to hint at his output. He also was troubled, and his career waxed and waned until a final resurgence in 1998 and his American Recordings albums. Producer Rick Rubin paid $20,000 to place a full page ad in Billboard: The finger to Nashville.

“You build on failure. You use it as a stepping stone. Close the door on the past. You don't try to forget the mistakes, but you don't dwell on it. You don't let it have any of your energy, or any of your time, or any of your space.”
 
I did acquire a lot of Johnny Cash music at two times in the last decade, both from friends passing forward their own, or a loved one's, collection. Mostly these records looked very much played, but some are pristine.

 “When I think about country music, I think about America.”

A former neighbor, who was ailing and is now deceased, also had me tape record his entire collection for him (plus Hank Williams Sr.) so that he could play the cassettes at his bedside. I made open reel tape copies for myself, too. Talk about a treasury. 

There are just a handful of Cash CDs in my library, a two-disc Best Of deal and three of the American Recordings. But I play those tapes and the vinyl most. They release the most memories.

"I have no illusions about who I am and how old I am—but that has nothing to do with it when I'm in that studio or on that stage and that thing is coming out of me. That fire is just as bright and hot as when I was 23. I and the song are one—and whatever I was meant to do with my music, I'm doing it."

AMERICAN FINGER
February 2011, pencil, 2' x 3'
$150

For inquiries: hankbonesman@embarqmail.com