John Prine: "Say hello in there, hello."

So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes
Please don't just pass 'em by and stare
As if you didn't care, say, "Hello in there, hello"

John Prine died yesterday, April 7, at the age of 73.  He's the first person I have "known" who died of the coronavirus.

Given the wisdom of his songs, lyrics and the years he has been performing, I would have guessed he was older than 73.  I regret that I never saw him in a live performance.

His music, his lyrics were for everyone. He had little pretension in what he wrote, he didn't aim to be above anyone. He wrote about regular, everyday people but made sure his lyrics were pertinent and socially relevant. Prine's songs about poverty, war, veterans, drugs and addiction and love and life as well. They were realistic and to the point but never harsh or blaming. 

This evening I spent three hours listening and watching John Prine on a youtube channel on my TV.  It was a great look at an amazing songwriter and moved me to tears. I started listening to John Prine in the mid 1980's and loved him from the very beginning. Self-effacing, from humble roots, he had a way of telling a story in song that seemingly meant little until you seriously  listened to it.  Sadness, loneliness, broken hearts, addictions: he brought it all to the front, wrote about it and made us, the listener, understand the emotional reality in spare words. But he also wrote about love, connection, commitment in his off-hand yet honest and funny way.  

In spite of ourselves we'll end up a-sittin' on a rainbow
Against all odds, honey we're the big door-prize
We're gonna spite our noses right off of our facesThere won't be nothin' but big ol' hearts dancin' in our eyes 

I can't explain why his death has hit me so hard. To be honest, I think it's just a reaction to everything that has happened in the past three weeks, all the emotional and psychological crap bottled up over the quarantine, the deaths of thousands, our caustic economic future, the frightening possibility of being infected, the isolation.... and on and on. Then to hear that one of my favorite singer/songwriters is gone, and to hear and see him sing his songs.... let's just say I cried hard, and leave it at that.

What in the world has come over you
What in heaven's name have you done
You've broken the speed of the sound of loneliness
You're out there running just to be on the run.

Ah, John Prine. We will miss you.  

From "When I Get To Heaven":

When I get to heaven, I'm gonna shake God's hand

Thank him for more blessings than one man can stand
Then I'm gonna get a guitar and start a rock-n-roll band
Check into a swell hotel; ain't the afterlife grand?

And then I'm gonna get a cocktail: vodka and ginger ale
Yeah, I'm gonna smoke a cigarette that's nine miles long
I'm gonna kiss that pretty girl on the tilt-a-whirl
'Cause this old man is goin' to town