Good House Weeping

Some say houses have souls. Or manitous. Or whatever that weird lady named Abigail who works in the New Age Emporium kiosk in the mall calls that which defines unseen, spiritual manifest of a chosen person or object. Whew! I'm the sort that just shuts down when that type of talk is brought forth. I'm like, take your crystals and pyramid hat and lavender stink the heck out of here, and oh, turn up the Pantera on the way out, will you? SEE YA!

Hey, I'm spiritual. One viewing of Floyd's transcendent "Live at Pompeii" and I firmly believed that I saw God, or David Gilmour, at the height of his guitar prowess. Same dif'.

I do believe that a house inhabited by truly compelling individuals has the potential to become a character in it's own right. "If these wall could talk", indeed! Explains why people flock to absorb the kitchy mojo of the Graceland manse, or why in an effort to erase a horrible, Helter Skelter past, the original house at 10050 Cielo Drive was razed. Shit, even the original "devil windows" on the Amityville Horror house were changed to non threatening looking square ones that in no way resemble "blazing eyes of fury straight from HELL!"

And so it comes with great sadness, the news that Johnny Cash's lakeside home was completely destroyed by fire. The very house where he wrote the kind of tunes that define the term instant classic and the very house that bore witness to the legendary love story of June 'n Johnny. The video for Johnny's incredible cover of TroutRezzie's and the Nine Inch Nails "Hurt" was filmed within the walls of what was surely an incredible piece of real-cool estate. Bet the thermostat even read "COOL" and "COOLER".

I find it interesting that Barry Gibb was planning on moving in once renovations (a new disco room and one gigantic empty room just to accommodate his ego) were completed. Apparently, Barry planned to write a new slew of stellar songs that would bring him into the good graces of the Billboard charts once again. I want Barry to have a new album. That means a whole bunch of new promotional appearances and interviews for him to freak out over and storm out of! YEESSSSSSSSSS!

But I think the Cash house thought differently. In an act of great defiance, the house self destructed, horrified that all the impending Gibb-ish-ness would ruin its cool and hip cachet.

Everything went up in smoke, leaving only the chimney intact, and that certainly is a "Tra-ge-ge-dee"(hey, at least I haven't resorted to a "Ring of Fire" joke).

It could be worse, I suppose. The estate could have been turned into a tacky Cash museum. I've seen what horrors have resulted when tourist commerce and country collide. If you are ever in Nashville head on over, y'all, to Demonbreun Street in the Music Row district. I headed on over. Boy, what a mistake. Starting off at Gilley's I was treated to a Garth Brooks clone doing karaoke, who looked like he stuffed the front of his pants with sport socks. He was aping Brooks during Garth's bright shirts and super tight black jeans era so it was not a good thing to see, trust me. Then it was on over to the Conway Twitty Country Store. It had an extremely cheap dollar store vibe to it and the souvenirs were the tackiest things ever. A lipstick case with Twitty's face on it. One of those porcelain bells with Twitty's face on it. Everything had Twitty's face on it, the same photo stamped on just mass produced QVC junk and generic household product. Sad. And I love Conway! Have you ever heard his fab duet(one of the many many!) with Loretta called "You're the Reason Our Kids Are Ugly"? It's pretty hot.

So farewell Johnny and June Carter's House. May your smouldering ashes avoid an ebay afterlife.

currently listening to: Beastie Boys, Paul's Boutique