I've known Jeb Puryear, of Donna The Buffalo, a long time, living and working in the same circles, but we've had very few conversations. Maybe Jeb is a man of few words, or maybe I am (actually - obviously to you IBlog readers - I am not).
Anyhow, one of those few conversations was about having a Ferris wheel at GrassRoots Festival. It seemed an excellent idea, especially while Jeb and I drank cool drinks, there at the Trumansburg Fairgrounds, and thought about how good things could be, or how better.
Another idea that emerged was to have George Jones perform, someday, at GrassRoots. Somehow, in our middling conversation, Jeb and I discovered that we were both huge fans of the man.
The Ferris wheel never appeared, but George Jones did, a couple of years ago. He was past his prime, a little - in one's eighties, one will be - but he was still great. You know. He was George Jones.
For the generation after Hank Williams, at least, George Jones was the greatest country singer - the greatest American singer? - ever. What the hell: put George up against old Hank. It'd make a good bar argument; and they'd probably both like that. (I guess if we're talking American singers, and not just country, you'd have to throw ol' Frank in there too; but that's okay - he'd probably like that bar talk, too.)
Rest in peace, Trumansburg visitor, GrassRoots performer, legendary man of music - with our repsect and gratitude - George Jones.
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