... And His Wife...

      This blog doesn't know what to say. It's glad Johnny Cash received a few nods for his incredibly touching life coda, but to reduce June Carter (as this article does) to "and his wife" seems very, very petty indeed. This blog also thinks-- beating a dead horse, probably all too ironically-- Johnny should have been nominated in so many other categories, but especially Male Vocalist of the Year. No one else came close to him. The timber, the strength, the sadness: it was Johnny as King Lear in re-seeing Cordelia but stumbling still towards an inevitable death, always forestalled by the deaths of those close to him in intercession of his own release. And it was beyond popular. It was sublime. Words can provide angles on the act, but they can never summarize it. It was a career apogee, and this blog knew it, sadly, well before the good man died. It was a titan speaking plain, not through his own words, but commanding another's words to meet his own, and as much of a NIN fan as you may be, Johnny now owns that song. Even Mr. Reznor admits that, and he's the only one who could substantially dispute that. Johnny makes the words "I am still right here" beautifully unbearable. I'm pretty sure even Reznor never imagined the song he wrote could be rendered in such a truly, and universally, heartbreaking fashion. (And if you know the song and don't feel the same, all this blog can ask is, how can you not? You must be absent a soul otherwise.)

      This blog is also glad to see Warren Zevon nominated, though it knows he won't win. A shame, really.

      But as much as this article may seem morbid, it also provides hope. It emphasizes, far beyond the American media has done, the extent to which posthumous recognition is indeed possible, and that awards need not only be for the young and the popular. That Muddy Waters and the unforgettable Sam Cooke are among the nominees seems to this blog at least a gesture toward justice.

      But this blog also truly hopes June Carter Cash wins posthumously. It would be appropriate for a woman who suffered so much, who provided so much, and who shone so magnificently into the twilight. Recognize Johnny or not. But it's about time the Grammies recognized June, not just for what she did, but also for what she kept alive. Requiescat in pace, dear lady.

(And, frankly, if June and Johnny and Warren aren't recognized at all, the Grammies will simply prove Homer Simpson's thought on the award, that it is not a meaningful award at all. After all, even Justin Timberlake acknowledged Johnny deserved the award he got at the MTV Awards.)