The songwriter John Prine died recently at age 73 from the novel corona virus. His death marks the loss of an American treasure. I have listened to him for four decades and I think many of his songs have a universal quality that touches on the human condition. He was not just a song writer and performer but a poet as well. In fact, when Ted Kooser was Poet Laureate of the United States in 2004-05, he invited John Prine to the Library of Congress to talk about his work and perform some of his songs.
Some of my favorite songs of his are
- “Sam Stone,” a touching story of a vet who comes home from war fatally scarred by his experience and becomes an addict – “There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where the money goes.”
- “Paradise,” an anthem for those who mourn what we are doing to the natural world, and to ourselves – “…Mr. Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away.”
- “Hello in There,” a poignant ballad about the loneliness and marginalization that is epidemic among the elderly – “Old people just grow lonesome/Waiting for someone to say, ‘Hello in there, hello.’”
- “In Spite of Ourselves,” one of the best, if not the best, song about a loving relationship I have ever heard – “In spite of ourselves, honey, we’re the big door prize.”
- “Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You into Heaven Any More,” a wry commentary on faux patriotism, which Prine wrote during the Viet Nam War but resurrected later in response to the foolish adventurism in the Middle East – “Jesus don’t ‘low killing no matter what the reason for.”
- “Angel from Montgomery,” a first-person description of a middle-aged woman confronting the reality of time and life – “Just give me one thing that I can hold on to/To believe in this living is just a hard way to go.”
- “Let’s Talk Dirty in Hawaiian,” a lighthearted nonsense tune that always makes me smile.
And many more—he recorded dozens. One I particularly like is “Fish and Whistle.” I have been singing and whistling it to myself since his death. It is an apt one to write about now since it reflects a couple of important themes in his work: the connection we have to one another that cuts across tribal boundaries and the idea that life should be celebrated and not taken too seriously. The verses are touched with this lightheartedness, and the chorus captures his message:
Father forgive us for what we must do
You forgive us and we’ll forgive you
We’ll forgive each other ’til we both turn blue
And we’ll whistle and go fishing in the heavens
Being more or less a freethinker, I am leery of wandering off into the marshy terrain of theological arguments, however I really like the tone of these four lines. In the first, he asks God (I presume that is what he means by Father) to “forgive us for what we must do.” That line recognizes our own frailty in the face of the vagaries of life and our inability to always get things right in how we act. The second turns the traditional idea of asking forgiveness around by saying that we will forgive God, as well. That seems to be a way of acknowledging the many things in life beyond our control that don’t make sense and seem unfair or even tragic.
The next line reminds us of the power of forgiveness, that it is circular and is the essence of the Golden Rule. The chorus closes with carefree buoyancy that is common in his songs. To me heaven is a metaphor that captures the idea of community and of our shared humanity.
Here is a link to the song.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G487EDeXadA
I say let’s whistle and go fishing in the heavens.
Thanks, Tom – I listened to his music after he passed & got a lot of pleasure from his songs that I hadn’t listened to for long time. Good to think about him again with an added view.
Hope you’re well, & all the best!
Lorrie
In writing that post, I had a hard time choosing which of his songs to list as my favorites. While I don’t listen to much music, I like his songs, not just for the tunes but for the splendid lyrics like “naked as the eyes of a clown” or “For I knew that topless lady had something up her sleeve.” I almost included “Bruised Orange” in my list of favorites, but I felt I already had too many. These lyrics from that song are touching:
For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter.
You become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
Wrapped up in a trap of your very own
Chain of sorrow.
I am doing well, I suppose. When you wished me “all the best,” I grinned because it is a line from a fine John Prine song of the same title.