I Remember Everything (John Prine)

The Beanie Twins, December 2015 I think?

I am trying to snap out of my Anger stage of grief, so today I set about conjuring some lovely remembrances of Eric:

~ He saved a kid's life when he worked at C. B. Smith water park in Pembroke Pines.

~ He was The Baby Whisperer.  There is a video, when Colin (Sarah's son) was less than a year old, and all Eric had to do was look at Colin, which elicited such contagious belly laughs... and then Colin would stare at E, and Eric would do it again, and more hilarity ensued.

~ He loved, and was good at, skateboarding.  There was a crew of friends in his neighborhood who would get together daily to practice their moves.  One of the dads built a ramp and they'd put it in the middle of the street, and then have to move it every time a car came by!

~ About five years ago, E started a new tradition.  He would give out Christmas cards to the family, and write the most beautiful sentiments in them, really speaking from the heart, telling us how much he loved us and how lucky he was to have such a great family... 💗

~ Eric was born in Puerto Rico, and has the birth certificate to prove it! 

~ Eric was a very handsome young man.  It was a running joke that many of Sarah's friends had a crush on him, and a few of mine too!  Hey, even some of his guy friends were smitten... 😍

~ He was so kind.  He was always aware of other people's feelings, and trying to make them feel better, or comforting/listening to them if they were down.  

~ In any family with three kids, there is usually a two-against-one situation, and Eric was often the One.  Ask Sarah and Rob about Hello Kitty backpack... 🐱

~ Eric was devoted to his girlfriend Duyen, meeting up with her July 23, 2021, for a coffee date in Miami.  Fast-forward almost two years later, when she graduated from UM's med school and moved to Atlanta to do her residency at Grady Hospital via Emory University; they missed each other so much that he found a job and moved up there just this past March so they could be together again.  They were good to, and for, each other.

~ He was very smart, keeping up with current events and business trends.

~ Eric would call and/or text us often, letting us know he was thinking about us.  

~ He played the guitar as well as bass, and would often sit alone in his room, noodling along to YouTube videos.  He was a huge music lover (Chico and I take pride in the fact there was always music playing in the house when our kids were growing up), and he not only adopted our Beatles and Neil Young, but developed his own personal style: traditional reggae, as well as indie bands like Passafire and Rebelution.

And speaking of remembering, I asked Duyen to set aside E's T-shirts so I could have a quilt made from them for her (just as I did with my Labyrinth Cafe and Dar Williams Ts.).  I will attempt to prepare and mail them off tomorrow (turnaround time is usually a month).

I miss my guy... 💔

SONG:  I Remember Everything by John Prine

BOOK:  Dear Memory: Letters on Writing, Silence, and Grief by Victoria Chang

POEM:  Miss you. Would like to grab that chilled tofu we love. by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

Do not care if  you bring only your light body. 

Would just be so happy to sit at the table

and talk about the menu. Miss you.

Wish we could bet which chilis they’ll put

on the cubes of tofu. Our favorite.

Sometimes green. Sometimes red. Roasted

we always thought. But so cold and fresh.

How did they do it? Wish you could be here

to talk about it like it was so important.

Wish you could. Watched you on the screens

as I was walking, as I was cooking. Wished you

could get out of the hospital. Can’t

bring myself to order our dish and eat it

in the car. Miss you laughing. Miss

you coming in from the cold or one

too many meetings. Laughing. I’ll order

already. I’ll order seven helpings, some

dumplings, those cold yam noodles that you

like. You can come in your light

body or skeleton or be invisible I don’t even

care. Know you have a long way to travel.

Know I don’t even know if it’s long

at all. Wish you could tell me. What

you’re reading. If you’re reading.

Miss you. I’m at the table in the back.

QUOTE(S):  “You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” ~ Anne Lamott

"Memory isn’t something that blooms, but something that bleeds internally.” ~ Victoria Chang

Blue Umbrella (John Prine)

It is waaaaaay past midnight.  I should have been in the bed over an hour ago.  I am tired and I am wired and tomorrow (ugh, that would be later today) is going to be a long, hard day.

Tonight we hosted a poolside gathering of close friends and out-of-town family, 6-9 p.m.-ish.  Sarah's friend Joe (whose family owns and operates an Italian restaurant) contributed 10 pizzas, 3 large trays of ziti (one of them vegan), and 2 trays of garlic rolls (one of them vegan).  We bought soft drinks and a large dispenser of water.  Sarah's other friends Nicole and Susan brought an amazing assortment of desserts.  Voi-f*cking-la... 🎆

Definitely a worlds-colliding party, that I don't have the energy to go into now but hope to revisit at a later date.  Everyone there was a meant-to-be.  Eric would have loved it.

Kind Words might be my Kryptonite... but Gratitude is my default... 💖

P.S.  For obvious reasons, I will not post Saturday night... but I certainly hope to on Sunday.  And then it might be a good time for the break I spoke of in yesterday's post.

SONG:  Blue Umbrella by John Prine

BOOK:  Grateful for the Color Blue: Surviving the Loss of an Adult Child by Ellyn Wolfe

POEM:  Peregrina by Sharon Blackie

O mother of the sea

lend me a wave that is strong and true

to carry me from this Age which unbinds me.

I do not need a ship, mother,

but make it a buoyant swell

to bear me up and float me on the sea’s dreaming

then beach me on some lighter shore.

When I land there, give me warp and weft again,

and an urchin quill to remind me

how the prettiest barb can lodge under your skin

and leave you undone.

Only lend me a loom and I will

take up the threads of this unraveled life.

I will weave a braid from three strands of seaweed

I will wind it three times around my finger

I will dig my salt-encrusted hands into the soil

and wed myself to the thirsty

brown roots of a new beginning.  

QUOTE:  "At a certain point, you say to the woods, to the sea, to the mountains, the world:  Now I am ready. Now I will stop and be wholly attentive. You empty yourself and wait, listening." ~ Annie Dillard

I Remember Everything (John Prine)

[Lesley Anne Numbers for the win... again!]


Life is good, especially with that mid-week recalibration.  Still challenges, as there will always be, even B.C. (Before Coronavirus), but I am working at backing off, as opposed to confronting something head-on.  I am in the most Zen-like ever stage of my life, very difficult for a control freak Leo, but am finding it more than a bit liberating.  

Had a lovely day at the beach yesterday with friends SusanP (who lives on A1A) and Nancy.  Spent almost four hours enjoying the sand, the surf (it was rough, so I only went in up to my knees!), the sun, and the serenity.  We of course did the obligatory social distancing, and it felt great to be in the open air, with conversation and cocktails (I brought wine and flavored seltzers, to make spritzers), and also bought us these cool tumblers:  Infoxicated; Oh, for fox sake; zero fox given; don't fox with me...  :-)

I also made what I called "adult lunchables":  plastic rectangular Chinese take-out containers, each one containing an individual hummus, grapes, mini-cucumber, sliced carrots, semi-soft sun-dried-tomato-and-garlic vegan cheese, crackers, and a clementine.  SusanP provided chairs and a beach umbrella, and Nancy brought her famous homemade vegan banana-mango bread.  I am tan, I am grateful, I am soooo relaxed.

Had a family get-together shortly thereafter.  Caught up on jobs, unemployment payments, grocery shopping... all while watching Colin run around with a jumbo stick of chalk in each hand.  Lovely!

Then home to watch the beautifully-done John Prine tribute (you can view the whole thing here), with amazing artists like Jason Isbell and Amanda Shires, Todd Snider, Brandi Carlile, Bonnie Raitt, etc., interspersed with heartfelt words from Brene Brown, Bill Murray (who called JP "a unicorn among nags"...  :-), Billy Bob Thornton, and of course John's wife Fiona.  "Start with a blank piece of paper, and don't write what shouldn't be there", said Prine about songwriting.  When I wasn't crying, I was laughing uproariously.  And we were treated to a new song, previously-unreleased (today's subject title).  I donated to Alive, and I bought a T-shirt...  💖

So, it is indeed Feel Good Friday.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!  


~ Despite efforts to quash them, Black Lives Matter protests lead to change in Miami-Dade:  The baseline ill, racism in policing, remains with us.  But despite efforts to quash Black Lives Matter protests in South Florida, the demonstrations of outrage over George Floyd’s murder — and the community activism that has risen around them — have already led to some positive change.


~ Sellers of Sex Toys Capitalized on All That Alone Time:  As the pandemic approached its peak, online retailers saw sales spike.


~ Former Green Beret, who advised Colin Kaepernick to kneel, talks about others taking a knee in solidarity:  NFL commissioner Roger Goodell has issued an apology saying the league was wrong in the way it handled its response to player protests in the past against police brutality and racial injustice.


~ With a Turn of the Can Opener, Make Sorbet:  An almost 25-year-old hack lets you use a food processor and canned fruit to create frozen treats.


~ We are witnessing the birth of a movement — and the downfall of a president:  We've reached a turning point in the Trump era. The 2020 campaign is in the streets and he's losing



SONG:  I Remember Everything by John Prine

BOOK:  Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope and Repair by Anne Lamott

POEM:  Study Electricity, Etc. by David Kirby

Third item on Jay Gatsby’s self-improvement schedule after “Rise from bed” and “Dumbbell exercise and wall scaling.”

You did that already—not electricity,
but the et cetera part. Et cetera means
“and the rest,” and you’ve mastered that.
You work from home, as we do these days,
but you put on a nice top and a dab of makeup
and combed your hair. When the children
need help with their homework, you make
time, and when your husband says he wants
to give them two more math problems
and some vocabulary, you say fine. The four
of you have lunch together, and when he takes
the kids out to play with the dog, you manage
a quick nap. Then tea, then you wrap up
your work and make notes for tomorrow.
Scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit cup
for the children. Let them watch Frozen
for the hundredth time—how could it hurt?
Now you and your husband can have dinner
on the deck: goat cheese, shrimp with
mushrooms, a bottle of Sancerre so cold
you think your teeth might crack. You walk
around the block, making room as others
approach. Bath time. PJs. Their books, yours.
When you were walking, you waved to other
families on their porches. They waved back.

[David Kirby: “Low-effort thinkers make headlines every day by reacting angrily and even dangerously to the guidelines we have to follow if we’re going to heal our world. To prepare for his future, young Jay Gatsby resolves to ‘study electricity, etc.’ For years I’ve wondered what that ‘etc.’ is, but COVID-19 has given me my answer: it’s the hundred unrecorded daily ways in which we care for ourselves and others with patience and love.”]

QUOTE:  “Wherever you are, at any moment, try and find something beautiful. A face, a line out of a poem, the clouds out of a window, some graffiti, a wind farm. Beauty cleans the mind.” ~ Matt Haig

Singing from the Window (Dave Matthews)

Much to feel good about this week.  Through a series of interesting circumstances I reconnected with a sister of my best friend in high school. Mary still makes pottery, and I am going to order another piece from her soon.

Had an impromptu meet-up with Sarah, Colin, and Eric in the far parking lot of Sarah's apartment complex, where drawing/writing with chalk is the highlight.  I asked S if he sleeps with them, because he double-fists throughout. "He would if I let him", she responded.  Always a lift. He is so smart and adorable (not that I'm biased or anything...  ;-)

Thanks to my sister Mari (she called herself my "Facebook Cliffs Notes" but I changed that to "Facebook Guru") for telling me about the conversation with Indigo Girls, Glennon Doyle, and Abby Wambach last night.  Was hoping I could view through YouTube, but no...  Jumped back onto FB (temporarily) for 90 minutes of wisdom, tears, and smiles, as they all interviewed each other.  Actually found a link to share, and I plan to re-watch later today.

And today is NancyW's birthday!  We arranged a Zoom meeting with Nance, Judi, Suzanne, and myself... but little did she know we were surprising her with other friends popping in:  SusanP, Brian, Sarah/Colin.  Invited a few others who had to work or couldn't make it.  Conversation and laughter ensued, and of course there was cake, a card, and singing... 💖

So, as is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!  


~ Turning Your Backyard Into a Vacation Spot:  With summer camps shut down and beach vacations seeming risky, homeowners are investing in ways to create a summer retreat at home.


~ Simple Stretches to Combat All That Sitting:  Done correctly, these restorative stretches, working on muscles from your eyes to your toes, really do make you feel better.


~ For Those Who (Privately) Aspire to Become More Reclusive (thanks to Michele for this beautifully insightful article; also, check out The Book of Life website...  :-)


~ The End of Meat Is Here:  If you care about the working poor, about racial justice, and about climate change, you have to stop eating animals.


~ Kacey Musgraves sings "Burn One With John Prine" to John Prine


SONG:  Singing from the Window by Dave Matthews

BOOK:  Notes on a Nervous Planet by Matt Haig

POEM:  Everyone Sang by Siegfried Sassoon

Everyone suddenly burst out singing;
And I was filled with such delight
As prisoned birds must find in freedom,
Winging wildly across the white
Orchards and dark-green fields; on - on - and out of sight.

Everyone's voice was suddenly lifted;
And beauty came like the setting sun:
My heart was shaken with tears; and horror
Drifted away ... O, but Everyone
Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.

QUOTE(S):  "Experience life in all possible ways ~ good-bad, bitter-sweet, dark-light, summer-winter. Experience all the dualities. Don't be afraid of experience, because the more experience you have, the more mature you become." ~ Osho

“The shortest distance between two people is a song.” ~ Edith Barnard

On Top of the World (Imagine Dragons)

[This is brilliantly creative.  Clicking to enlarge will heighten your enjoyment!  (thanks to NickA for passing it on, and to Reddit, where he got it from...  :-) ]


It's Feel Good Friday (do it twice and it's a tradition), five links to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!

~ The Kirsten Maxwell Livestreaming Event, Friday, April 24 (tonight!) at 7:30 p.m.:  Kirsten Maxwell is a New York native, raised between Sunnyside, Queens and Huntington, Long Island. She attributes her love of music to her parents who met performing at the famed Amato Opera. Maxwell made her stage debut at age 5, and remained there, changing costumes and styles, exploring opera, musical theater, folk, and everything in between. Her eclectic taste and talent for switching between genres remain, but she can most often be found playing guitar and singing one of her original songs.


~ This Is Why There Is A Record-Breaking Spike In Pet Adoptions in Palm Beach County:  For the first time in its history, which stretches five decades, one of three kennels at Palm Beach County Animal Care and Control’s shelter in West Palm Beach is completely empty.


~ An Evening With Richard Blanco: Poems for Isolation, Monday, April 27 at 6:00 p.m., Livestreamed via Crowdcast:  Miami Book Fair, the Miami Downtown Development Authority (DDA), and Books & Books invite you to a reading by Miami’s own presidential inaugural poet, Richard Blanco. Join us from your balcony, bedroom or home cocktail bar for an evening of reflection, as we celebrate poetry and its power to carry us through difficult moments. 


~ Buy Girl Scout Cookies Online: To protect girls and communities in the wake of COVID-19, Girl Scouts have suspended door-to-door sales and cookie booths.  But you can still buy your favorite cookies online today and have them shipped to your door—or donate cookies and we'll distribute them safely to provide comfort to first responders, volunteers, and local causes in need.  (thanks to Nance for this tip!  Yes, I ordered four boxes of Thin Mints, vegan, you know!, which are due to arrive *tomorrow* and will go straight into the freezer...  :-)


~  Todd Snider on John Prine: ‘I Couldn’t Believe I Knew Him’:  The Nashville songwriter on bonding with his mentor, taking him out for pizza, and that time they got lost in Europe


~ Bonus link!  Shelter in Poems: A Virtual Reading, Thursday, April 30, 7:30 p.m. EDT:  The evening will include poems presented by:  Elizabeth Alexander, Sam Beam, Richard Blanco, Julia Bullock, Marilyn Chin, Rita Dove, Patrick Gaspard, Amanda Gorman, Joy Harjo, Juan Felipe Herrera, Edward Hirsch, Stephin Merritt, Maulik Pancholy, Alison Pill, Dan Rather, Alberto Ríos, Mustafa Shakir, Naomi Shihab Nye, Lorna Simpson, Amber Tamblyn. and other special guests.  The event will raise funds to support our free publications and programs, including our K-12 education program. As National Poetry Month comes to a close, many of us will have weathered a month of solitude in an act of solidarity to protect each other. During these weeks, poetry has brought us all closer together, even as we remain physically apart.



SONG:  On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons

BOOK:  A Year of Writing Dangerously: 365 Days of Inspiration and Encouragement by Barbara Abercrombie

POEM:  Thoughts After the Poem Wild Geese by Adrie Kusserow (who was inspired by Mary Oliver's poem to write a coronavirus adaptation)

You do not have to become totally zen,
You do not have to use this isolation to make your marriage better,
your body slimmer, your children more creative.

You do not have to "maximize its benefits"
By using this time to work even more,
write the bestselling Corona Diaries,
Or preach the gospel of ZOOM.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body unlearn
everything capitalism has taught you,
(That you are nothing if not productive,
That consumption equals happiness,
That the most important unit is the single self.
That you are at your best when you resemble an efficient machine).

Tell me about your fictions, the ones you’ve been sold,
the ones you sheepishly sell others,
and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world as we know it is crumbling.
Meanwhile the virus is moving over the hills,
suburbs, cities, farms and trailer parks.

Meanwhile The News barks at you, harsh and addicting,
Until the push of the remote leaves a dead quiet behind,
a loneliness that hums as the heart anchors.

Meanwhile a new paradigm is composing itself in our minds,
Could birth at any moment if we clear some space
From the same tired hegemonies.

Remember, you are allowed to be still as the white birch,
Stunned by what you see,
Uselessly shedding your coils of paper skins
Because it gives you something to do.

Meanwhile, on top of everything else you are facing,
Do not let capitalism co-opt this moment,
laying its whistles and train tracks across your weary heart.

Even if your life looks nothing like the Sabbath,
Your stress boa-constricting your chest.
Know that your antsy kids, your terror, your shifting moods,
Your need for a drink have every right to be here,
And are no less sacred than a yoga class.

Whoever you are, no matter how broken,
the world still has a place for you, calls to you over and over
announcing your place as legit, as forgiven,
even if you fail and fail and fail again.
remind yourself over and over,
all the swells and storms that run through your long tired body
all have their place here, now in this world.

It is your birthright to be held
deeply, warmly in the family of things,
not one cell left in the cold.

QUOTE:  "Feeling good about your life, but not expressing a heartfelt 'thank you,' is like wrapping a gift for someone and never giving it to them." ~ Chip Conley

Diamonds in the Rough (John Prine, a Carter Family composition)

Rest in Paradise, JP.  Hard to imagine a world without you.  I hate this f*cking virus, I hate Donald Trump, I hate Ron DeSantis, I hate Rick Scott.  

Diamonds in the Rough (John Prine - a Carter Family composition)

No book, poem or quote in today's post.  Then again, all three can be found in every one of John Prine's songs, if you but listen. I am bereft.


John Prine, Who Chronicled the Human Condition in Song, Dies at 73
By William Grimes
April 7, 2020
Updated 10:42 p.m. ET

John Prine, the raspy-voiced country-folk singer whose ingenious lyrics to songs by turns poignant, angry and comic made him a favorite of Bob Dylan, Kris Kristofferson and others, died Tuesday at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Tenn. He was 73.

The cause was complications from Covid-19, his family said.

Mr. Prine underwent cancer surgery in 1998 to remove a tumor in his neck identified as squamous cell cancer, which had damaged his vocal cords. In 2013, he had part of one lung removed to treat lung cancer.

Mr. Prine was a relative unknown in 1970 when Mr. Kristofferson heard him play one night at a small Chicago club called the Fifth Peg, dragged there by the singer-songwriter Steve Goodman. Mr. Kristofferson was performing in Chicago at the time at the Quiet Knight. At the Fifth Peg, Mr. Prine treated him to a brief after-hours performance of material that, Mr. Kristofferson later wrote, “was unlike anything I’d heard before.”

A few weeks later, when Mr. Prine was in New York, Mr. Kristofferson invited him onstage at the Bitter End in Greenwich Village, where he was appearing with Carly Simon, and introduced him to the audience.

“No way somebody this young can be writing so heavy,” he said. “John Prine is so good, we may have to break his thumbs.”

The record executive Jerry Wexler, who was in the audience, signed Mr. Prine to a contract with Atlantic Records the next day.

Music writers at the time were eager to crown a successor to Mr. Dylan, and Mr. Prine, with his nasal, sandpapery voice and literate way with a song, came ready to order. His debut album, called simply “John Prine” and released in 1971, included songs that became his signatures. Some gained wider fame after being recorded by other artists.

They included “Sam Stone,” about a drug-addicted war veteran (with the unforgettable refrain “There’s a hole in Daddy’s arm where all the money goes”); “Hello in There,” a heart-rending evocation of old age and loneliness; and “Angel From Montgomery,” the hard-luck lament of a middle-aged woman dreaming about a better life, later made famous by Bonnie Raitt.

“He’s a true folk singer in the best folk tradition, cutting right to the heart of things, as pure and simple as rain,” Ms. Raitt told Rolling Stone in 1992.

Mr. Dylan, listing his favorite songwriters  in a 2009 interview, put Mr. Prine front and center. “Prine’s stuff is pure Proustian existentialism,” he said. “Midwestern mind trips to the nth degree. And he writes beautiful songs.”

John Prine was born on Oct. 10, 1946, in Maywood, Ill., a working-class suburb of Chicago, to William and Verna (Hamm) Prine. His father, a tool-and-die maker at the American Can Company, and his mother had moved from the coal town of Paradise, Ky., in the 1930s.

Mr. Prine later wrote a ruefully bitter song titled “Paradise,” in which he sang:

The coal company came with the world’s largest shovel
And they tortured the timber and stripped all the land
Well, they dug for their coal till the land was forsaken
Then they wrote it all down as the progress of man

John grew up in a country music-loving family. He learned guitar as a young teenager from his grandfather and brother and began writing songs.

After graduating from high school, he worked for the Post Office for two years before being drafted into the Army, which sent him to West Germany in charge of the motor pool at his base. After being discharged, he resumed his mail route, in and around his hometown, composing songs in his head.

“I always likened the mail route to a library with no books,” he wrote on his website. “I passed the time each day making up these little ditties.”

Reluctantly, he took the stage for the first time at an open-mic night at the Fifth Peg, where his performance of “Hello in There” and “Angel From Montgomery” met with profound silence from the audience. “They just sat there,” Mr. Prine wrote. “They didn’t even applaud, they just looked at me.”

Then the clapping began. “It was like I found out all of a sudden that I could communicate deep feelings and emotions,” he wrote. “And to find that out all at once was amazing.”

Not long after, Roger Ebert, the film critic for The Chicago Sun-Times, wandered into the club while Mr. Prine was performing. He liked what he heard and wrote Mr. Prine’s first review, under the headline “Singing Mailman Who Delivers a Powerful Message in a Few Words.”

“He appears onstage with such modesty he almost seems to be backing into the spotlight,” Mr. Ebert wrote. “He sings rather quietly, and his guitar work is good, but he doesn’t show off. He starts slow. But after a song or two, even the drunks in the room begin to listen to his lyrics. And then he has you.”

Mr. Prine had a particular gift for offbeat humor, reflected in songs like “Jesus, the Missing Years,” “Some Humans Ain’t Human,” “Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone” and the antiwar screed “Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore.”

“I guess what I always found funny was the human condition,” he told the British newspaper The Daily Telegraph in 2013. “There is a certain comedy and pathos to trouble and accidents.”

After recording several albums for Atlantic and Asylum, he started his own label, Oh Boy Records, in 1984. He never had a hit record, but he commanded a loyal audience that ensured steady if modest sales for his albums and a durable concert career.

In 1992, his album “The Missing Years,” with guest appearances by Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty and other artists, won a Grammy Award for best contemporary folk recording. He received a second Grammy in the same category in 2006 for the album “Fair and Square.”

Mr. Prine, who lived in Nashville, was divorced twice. He is survived by his wife, Fiona Whelan Prine, a native of Ireland whom he married in 1996; three sons, Jody, Jack and Tommy; two brothers, Dave and Billy; and three grandchildren. In 2017, Mr. Prine published “John Prine Beyond Words,” a collection of lyrics, guitar chords, commentary and photographs from his own archive.

In 2019, he was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame, and his album “Tree of Forgiveness” was nominated for a Grammy, for best Americana album. It was his 19th album and his first of original material in more than a decade. (The award went to Brandi Carlile, for “By the Way, I Forgive You.”)

Mr. Prine went on tour in 2018 to promote “Tree of Forgiveness,” and after a two-night stand at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville — known there as the mother church of country music — Margaret Renkl, a contributing opinion writer for The New York Times, wrote, under the headline “American Oracle”:

“The mother church of country music, where the seats are scratched-up pews and the windows are stained glass, is the place where the new John Prine — older now, scarred by cancer surgeries, his voice deeper and full of gravel — is most clearly still the old John Prine: mischievous, delighting in tomfoolery, but also worried about the world.”

In December, he was chosen to receive a 2020 Grammy for lifetime achievement.

As a songwriter, Mr. Prine was prolific and quick. In the early days, he would sometimes dash off a song while driving to a club.

“Sometimes, the best ones come together at the exact same time, and it takes about as long to write it as it does to sing it,” he told the poet Ted Kooser in an interview at the Library of Congress in 2005. “They come along like a dream or something, and you just got to hurry up and respond to it, because if you mess around, the song is liable to pass you by.”

Caryn Ganz and Neil Vigdor contributed reporting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Note from Fiona Prine and Oh Boy Records:

From Oh Boy Records

It is with heavy hearts we have to share this sad news. Some of you may have already heard, but we wanted to take the time to let you know personally, and to say thank you. Thank you so much for all the well wishes, thoughts, prayers, stories, and songs. They helped us keep going through this tough time, and they will continue to bring us comfort.

Thank you for your love and support of John all these years. We know that it is what kept him going. He absolutely loved what he did, and he loved all of you. Thank you and we love you. - The Oh Boy family



From Fiona Whelan Prine

Our beloved John died yesterday evening at Vanderbilt Medical Center in Nashville TN. We have no words to describe the grief our family is experiencing at this time. John was the love of my life and adored by our sons Jody, Jack and Tommy, daughter in law Fanny, and by our grandchildren.

John contracted Covid-19  and in spite of the incredible skill and care of his medical team at Vanderbilt he could not overcome the damage this virus inflicted on his body.

I sat with John - who was deeply sedated- in the hours before he passed and will be forever grateful for that opportunity.

My dearest wish is that people of all ages take this virus seriously and follow guidelines set by the CDC. We send our condolences and love to the thousands of other American families who are grieving the loss of loved ones at this time - and to so many other families across the world. 

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for the outpouring of love we have received from family, friends, and fans all over the world. John will be so missed but he will continue to comfort us with his words and music and the gifts of kindness, humor and love he left for all of us to share.

In lieu of flowers or gifts at this time we would ask that a donation be made to one of the following non profits:
thistlefarms.org
roomintheinn.org
nashvillerescuemission.org

In Spite of Ourselves (John Prine)

As previously stated, my husband and I have been self-isolating since Friday March 13... which segued to a Broward County emergency order to Shelter in Place on Friday March 27... which has now transitioned to a new statewide (Florida) dictum to Stay at Home, starting tomorrow/Friday April 3.

We love each other (in September, we'll celebrate 44 years of "official" marriage, with a few years of dating before that!).  However, we've never been one of those joined-at-the-hip couples.  He is used to coaching soccer two nights a week and having games every Saturday and Sunday.  I have always had a joyfully-abundant calendar of concerts, bookclubs, and dinners (and lunches, now that I am retired) with friends.  All of this is a bit too much togetherness (insert wide-eyed emoji here).  We are managing to navigate these different and turbulent waters, where crises can either make or break a relationship.  We snap, we argue, we clam up... and yet we remember why we chose each other as life partners, and we apologize and connect and reignite (cue Mary Tyler Moore theme song!).

I decided to put together a list of my coping mechanisms, in hopes that it might inspire others (also, it really just helps me fill a bit of time...  :-) :

~ Daily schedule.  When I have the entire day ahead of me, I am not likely to get much accomplished but, if I attempt to structure my day with some of the items below, in addition to the little things like "take my vitamins", it helps keep me on task.

~ My balcony.  When I first wake up, I make a cup of coffee or hot tea, settle into my lounge chair, and greet the day, as well as the Wild Kingdom that is my backyard.  How can I be anxious when there are birds singing in the trees, turtles swimming in the pond, and prehistoric-looking iguanas loitering on the lawn? (The golfers are a breed unto themselves!).  In the evening, I slow down to watch the sunset, and breathe deeply, inhaling gratitude and exhaling worry. 

~ Menu ideas. I make breakfast smoothies for us both, and we are on our own for lunch) but, when I get home from Publix and as I am re-stocking the freezer, fridge, and pantry, I write down ideas for potential dinner meals, which makes nightly cooking plans as close to no-brainer-ish as possible.

~ Smoothies.  Frozen fruit + protein powder + coconut water + SuperGreens powder + my NutriBullet = easy, healthy, and delicious!

~ Daily Dozen.  It's a phone App, created by Dr. Michael Greger (my plant-based guru!) in which I can log my servings of beans, berries, fruits, vegetables, whole grains, nuts, seeds, herbs and spices, etc., as well as my beverages, exercise, and vitamin B12. As I've never been one to count calories or points, it is a very helpful and easy way to ensure I get enough nutrition to sustain and fuel my vegan lifestyle.

~ Essential oils. Some of my daughter's friends have gone into the essential oils business, and I commissioned one of them a while back to make up three blends for me:  Healthy, Energy, Calm.  They came in small roll-on bottles and not a day has gone by without me using one of them.  These days, most often, it's Healthy...  :-)

~ Walking.  I had been walking the trails in our Broward Library Park but now that feels riskier, so I am traversing a 45-minute-ish route in our condo complex.

~ Stretching.  Super-important, especially since my sciatica kicked back in two months ago.  Ugh.  Doing specific exercises about 3 times a day, and in the condo pool when I'm there.  I also use a massager the kids gave me for Christmas a few years ago.

~ Pool.  Believe it or not, they've stayed open and, now that the snowbirds have headed back north, only a handful of people are down there.  I use an antibacterial disposable cloth to open and close the gate, as well as wipe down the lounge chair.  I use an SPF 30 on my arms, legs, chest, and back... and an SPF 15 on my face (I also wear a hat). Aaaaahhhh, natural Vitamin D.  And of course there is a book involved!

~ Reading. I had checked out 25 books from our local library before things started getting really bad, and I am systematically working my way through those. I set myself up for success by trying to choose only 4- or 5-star material, interspersing novels with non-fiction with memoirs.

~ Blogging.  Yes, here I am again after a 7-year absence.  An exercise in creativity, an online journal, a stream-of-consciousness blather.  It really doesn't matter if no one reads nor comments.  This is for me, and is an excellent steam release from the pressure cooker of life, to upload my swirling thoughts so I don't go completely crazy... at least until the next day, when I feel the need to unload again.

~ Family get-togethers.  We meet twice a week, at first at the Broward Library Park, then the park in our old neighborhood, now at a grassy area in our condo complex.  Folding chairs, blankets, six feet apart, telling stories, laughing, just seeing each other's faces.  Sarah and Colin came over the other day so he could run around.  The little guy is 20-months-old and full of energy. He is so confused, because why isn't Lala hugging him and picking him up as usual? He came toward me, and I started running (because I didn't want either one of us to potentially contaminate the other), and I turned it into a game but, when they left, I was so upset. It is a fact of life that I can't touch my grandbaby right now. This is all just so f*cked up.

~ Potato Chips.  Oh god, as some people crave sweets, my drug of choice is salty/crunchy.  I learned that I cannot buy a big bag, or else I will eat the entire contents.  Bemoaning this fact to my son Rob, who suggested snack-size.  Yes!  The Baked Lay's variety pack is just what I needed, and I really do ration out one per day. I found this one in yesterday's portion.  It's a sign from The Universe...  :-)

~ FreeCell. My solitaire version of Tetris.  It makes sense to me, my brain just thinks that way and, when I need a few moments to chill, I play a few games on the laptop.

~ Talking on the phone with friends.  I used to *hate* the phone, because I spent so much time on it at work.  Now that I am retired, I am more appreciative of voice-to-voice, especially now that face-to-face get-togethers are not an option.  I have spent the last two weeks having meaningful as well as hilarious conversations with dear friends and family members:  my children, of course (daily!); my sister Mari and my brother Brad; friends Nancy, Judi, Eileen, Melanie, Laurie.  Still to come are Linda and my cousin Laura.  Soul-refilling.

~ TV/Movies.  I cut waaay back on screen time when I retired, viewing a few shows (Top Chef, Project Runway, etc.) and IMDB-recommended movies and series (JoJo Rabbit, Unbreakable, and others).  thankyoujesus for Netflix and HGTV.  My friends Laurie and Dana just bingewatched Downton Abbey, and others are mainlining West Wing (ah, remember the years when we had an intelligent, compassionate, articulate President?!?).

~ Being overcaffeinated in the morning, and then sharing too much sh*t via my phone.  I only mean to inform and not annoy, but I think my family and friends are frustrated with my links.  Must. Stop. That.

P.S.  Before I deactivated my Facebook account, I chose my Word of the Year (which I've been doing since 2007, following Christine Kane's lead).  In 2020, Contentment spoke to me (I have Enough!) and I instituted a buying moratorium.  I've been so very good but, I confess, in these trying times, in a fit of weakness, I ordered a pair of earrings via Amazon, inspired by the woman in the Resilient video I posted a few days ago [hangs head in retail-therapy shame!]


SONG:  In Spite of Ourselves by John Prine (and the live version as well...  :-)
[Another head nod to Melanie, who shared this Kevin Bacon/Kyra Sedgwick version with me earlier!]

BOOK:  My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Moshfegh

POEM:  Half Omen Half Hope by Joanna Klink

When everything finally has been wrecked and further shipwrecked,
When their most ardent dream has been made hollow and unrecognizable,
They will feel inside their limbs the missing shade of blue that lingers
Against hills in the cooler hours before dark, and the moss at the foot of the forest
When green starts to leave it. What they take into their privacy (half of his embrace,
Her violence at play) are shadows of acts which have no farewells in them.
Moons unearth them. And when, in their separate dwellings, their bodies
Feel the next season come, they no longer have anyone to whom
To tell it. Clouds of reverie pass outside the window and a strange emptiness
Peers back in. If they love, it is solely to be adored, it is to scatter and gather
Themselves like hard seeds in a field made fallow by a fire someone years ago set.
In the quiet woods, from the highest trees, there is always something
Weightless falling; and he, who must realize that certain losses are irreparable,
Tells himself at night, before the darkest mirror, that vision keeps him whole.

On the verge of warm and simple sleep they tell themselves certain loves
Are like sheets of dark water, or ice forests, or husks of ships. To stop a thing
Such as this would be to halve a sound that travels out from a silent person’s
Thoughts. The imprint they make on each other’s bodies is worth any pain
They may have caused. Quiet falls around them. And when she reaches
For him the air greens like underwater light and the well-waters drop.
They will see again the shadows of insects.
They will touch the bark and feel each age of the tree fly undisturbed
Into them. If what is no longer present in them cannot be restored,
It can at least be offered. Through long bewildered dusks, stalks grow;
Rains fill and pass out of clouds; animals hover at the edges of fields
With eyes like black pools. For nothing cannot be transformed;
Pleasure and failure feed each other daily. Do not think any breeze,
Any grain of light, shall be withheld. All the stars will sail out for them.

QUOTE:  "When marrying, ask yourself this question: Do you believe that you will be able to converse well with this person into your old age? Everything else in marriage is transitory." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

When I Get to Heaven (John Prine)

The family of John Prine says that the legendary singer-songwriter has been hospitalized since Thursday after a "sudden onset of COVID-19 symptoms." 

According to the family's statement, Prine, 73, was intubated on Saturday, "and continues to receive care, but his situation is critical."

"This is hard news for us to share. But so many of you have loved and supported John over the years, we wanted to let you know, and give you the chance to send on more of that love and support now. And know that we love you, and John loves you."


My friend/college roommate Linda texted me a few hours ago with the news.  We had just seen him together this past MLK weekend at the 30A Songwriter Festival in Santa Rosa Beach FL.  My friend Fred texted me shortly thereafter.  I had no idea until then.  I am distraught, and every f*cking purple candle in my house is ablaze. Please god let JP be okay and, if not, let him go smoothly and peacefully "into that good night".

My one-time next door neighbor and longtime dear buddy Dan gave me the eponymous John Prine album when it was first released, in 1972, on vinyl of course.  I played the h*ll out of that disc.  Side A, Side B, lather, rinse, repeat.  I knew every word to every song.  I still own his entire catalog on vinyl, even though we've loaned our turntable out to our sons. I have seen him live a double-handful of times.  Such a brilliant lyricist.  Inspired by the 6+ minute video below, here are some of my favorites: 

Well, a question ain't really a question
If you know the answer too. 
~ Far From Me

A bowl of oatmeal tried to stare me down... 
and won 
~ Illegal Smile

Some cowboy from Texas
Starts his own war in Iraq 
~ Some Humans Ain't Human

wondering how a man could send a child actor
to visit in the land of the wind chill factor. 
~ Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone

And all the news just repeats itself
Like some forgotten dream that we've both seen. 
~ Hello in There

Now Jesus don't like killin'
No matter what the reason's for 
~ Your Flag Decal Won't Get You Into Heaven Anymore

I knew that topless lady had something up her sleeve
~ Spanish Pipedream

The cannibals can catch me and fry me in a pan
Long as I got my woman 
~ Aw Heck

Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios. 
~ Sam Stone

I could go on...  :-)


In this short film, Prine spends a typical afternoon driving around Nashville while talking about his journey from midwestern mailman to career songwriter. He plays an emotional version of “Summer’s End,” from The Tree of Forgiveness, his first album in 13 years, while fans including Dan Auerbach, Rosanne Cash and Todd Snider share their favorite Prine lyrics.

And this New Yorker Tree of Forgiveness review



SONG:  When I Get to Heaven by John Prine

BOOK:  John Prine:  Beyond Words by John Prine

POEM:  Wanting Sumptuous Heavens by Robert Bly

No one grumbles among the oyster clans,
And lobsters play their bone guitars all summer.
Only we, with our opposable thumbs, want
Heaven to be, and God to come, again.
There is no end to our grumbling; we want
Comfortable earth and sumptuous Heaven.
But the heron standing on one leg in the bog
Drinks his dark rum all day, and is content.

QUOTE:  "The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake." ~ Kurt Vonnegut