Ain't No Grave for Johnny Rebel

Was driving home from doing historic site-seeing in Lincoln and Concord, MA, towns of the first shooting of the Revolutionary War.

Saw the Old North Bridge, where townsfolk stood tall against the Redcoats, even killing a couple still buried nearby, Union Jacks on their graves. Within a musket shot is the Old Manse; "manse" means home of a clergy person, and this was the home of Rev. William Emerson, the grand-dad of writer Ralph Waldo Emerson. Rev. Emerson was a fiery rebel who died not long after the April, 1775 action at the bridge. Ralph, at the Old Manse, helped create the rebellious American transcendentalist movement; funny thing, writer Nathaniel Hawthorne, who lived there for a few years and hung out with transcendentalists, goofed on 'em. Even rebels have their critics, sometimes their best buds. Down the road is where rebel silversmith and horseman Paul Revere got nabbed by the King's soldiers in the wee, wee hours as he was passing the word that they were coming--although I wonder how historians pinpointed precisely where such an encounter took place. Even with

our modern technology, we still don't know the facts, Jack. Think of the woman in the agriculture department who recently lost her job due to people messing with the truth, and then was offered it back, receiving a presidential apology. Oops.

So, driving back from all this I popped into the car's CD player Johnny Cash's Ain't No Grave, a recording released a few months back that features his final vocals before his 2003 exit. Johnny was a farm boy, a country performer, a troublemaker and troubled guy, and, in recent times, prince of the punks. After being immersed in history as I was, the CD particularly struck me as a conscious fade into history by someone who was counting down to his final moments. With titles like "Ain't No Grave (Gonna Hold This Body Down)," and "Can't Help But Wonder Where I'm Bound," producer Rick Rubin and associate producer John Carter Cash (Johnny and June Carter's only child) were certainly making this a farewell tour (Johnny didn't know there would be such an album). But the closer is what nailed me: "Aloha 'Oe," a Hawaiian tune, an odd choice for a guy born in Arkansas, and a seemingly quirky way to end the recording. "One fond embrace/A hoi ae au/Until we meet again." A tired sounding Johnny Cash doing what sounds like a song for a luau. Sad, maybe a little silly. I wonder what The Man in Black was thinking as he sang it. That crazy Rick Rubin! The guy who was more or less one of the Beastie Boys--is he messing with me?

After the last notes, the car fell silent. Hmm. Seemed about right.