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Remembering John Prine
In 1972 I bought John Prine's first album at
the Post Exchange in Frankfurt am Main, Germany. I played the album over and
over again. I played three of the songs even more than the rest--Illegal Smile,
Sam Stone, and Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You into Heaven Anymore. Those three reflected my particular take on
the world at the time. Sardonic humor,
hatred of the US war machine and a determination not to end up like Sam Stone
with a hole in my arm where all the money goes because I had to fight and kill
in Vietnam. I graduated from high school the following year and went off to
college. I remember playing Bette Midler’s
version of Prine’s “Hello in There” for a guy in my dorm. At first he made fun of it and then he borrowed
the record. The song about lonely old
people reminded him of his grandparents, he said. I recorded the Prine record for that city boy
from the Bronx and he thanked me profusely.
In 1974 I was living in Maryland at my parents
and working as a short order cook in the town they lived in. John Prine was one of the musicians playing
at a folk festival in Wolf Trap, VA.
Some friends of mine from high school asked me if I wanted to go. They had a car. I didn’t drive. The three of us went to the festival along
with the younger sister of one of them and her friend. We also had a case of beer and I had some
weed. The main concerts didn’t begin
until early evening, but the rest of the day was filled up with workshops put
on by some of the artists playing at the festival. John Prine was one of them. Both of my friends were pretty good
guitarists and we all like John Prine’s music, even though he only had the one
album out then. So we took our beer and
headed to his workshop. We were the only
people there at the beginning. My
friends took out their guitars and started playing with John. A song or two later, we all cracked a can of
beer and began drinking. It turned into
quite a workshop. Prine was friendly,
easygoing and thirsty.
As the years went by, Prine recorded numerous
albums and I bought most of them. I saw him play at the Philly Folk Fest, a
club in DC, and at a couple other festivals in the 1970s and 1980s. Two of his biggest fans must include one of
my younger brothers and a former brother-in-law. His songs can be haunting, humorous,
harrowing and happy—sometimes all at once. I hate to see him go.
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