From Johnny Cash to Glen Campbell: Country is not a crime

But it is too often the stuff of criminals.

Last weekend I was spending some quality time over 45s with a guy I used to date. A guy who used to really get my goat. A guy with whom, if I had a gun, I could have had a relationship the stuff of which would have made for a really good country song. Don't use this as motive should he ever show up in the river; I am, of course, being facetious in the interest of perpetuating country music themes. Hey buddy, can't wait to go see Emmylou with you this weekend! (I promise I still don't have a gun. You are safe!)

I don't remember a whole lot of our conversations last weekend as they were had over a whole lot of liquor, but I do know we were talking a bit about Merle Haggard, once convict, and about country prison songs. Funny then that onnnnnn thiiiiiiiis day in hiiiiiisssssssstory David Allan Coe, in 1963, began serving a four-year prison sentence at the Ohio State Penitentiary for car theft, possession of obscene materials and possession of burglary tools.

In honor of Coe, as really, I can see no other reason to ever honor that racist fool, whose racism I'd like to imagine is simply tongue-in-cheek but goddamn, we all know he's a racist fool, I present to you: The Country Criminal Hall of Fame.

Johnny Cash

Born in 1932, Cash, whose songs include "I Walk the Line," "Folsom Prison Blues," "Ring of Fire," "Get Rhythm," "One Piece at a Time," "A Boy Named Sue" and "Jackson," spent plenty of time in prison, though not for committing any crime. Feeling compassionate toward prisoners, he began performing concerts at various prisons starting in the late 60s, resulting in the successful live albums Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison and Johnny Cash at San Quentin, as well as the lesser known At Österåker, recorded in Sweden in 1972. That's not to say Cash didn't have his own run-ins with the law; he's also well-known for his drug and alcohol abuse, landing in jail seven times for various misdemeanors, was once arrested for trespassing into a field to pick flowers, and was sued by the government when his truck caught fire in Los Padres National Forest, eventually burning the foliage off three mountains and killing 49 of its refuge's 53 endangered condors. Cash's response? "I don't care about your damn yellow buzzards."

Merle Haggard

Born in 1937, this "Okie from Muskogee" was in fact born in Bakersfield, CA where he later become an integral part of the "Bakersfield Sound." It was his parents, rather, who moved from Oklahoma to California during the Depression in search of work. After his father died, at nine Haggard began to rebel by committing petty crimes and larceny, was sent to a juvenile detention center at thirteen following a shoplifting incident, then ran away to Texas where he was again arrested for truancy and petty larceny. He ran away yet again, to Modesto, where he began performing but was caught and sent to the Preston School of Industry, a high-security facility. He was released only to be sent back after beating up a boy during a burglary attempt. After his fourth release, Haggard saw Lefty Frizzell, who allowed him to sing along during his concert. Soon thereafter, however, Haggard was arrested for robbing a Bakersfield bar and, in 1957, was sent to San Quentin State Prison for three years. Years later, while at a Johnny Cash concert, Haggard approached Cash to say, "I certainly enjoyed your show at San Quentin." Cash responded, "Merle, I don't remember you bein' in that show." Merle's response? "Johnny, I wasn't in the show, I was in the audience." While at San Quentin, Haggard had attended three of Johnny Cash's performances. Once released in 1960, Haggard stayed out for good although his independent life was difficult, describing his release as being the loneliest feeling he ever had.

Steve Earle

Born in 1955 the "Hardcore Troubadour," married seven times, doesn't just play a recovered drug addict on HBO's The Wire - he's also one in real life. Having been a recreational drug user since an early age and addicted to heroin for many years, Earle in 1993 stopped performing and recording for two years (a period he refers to as his "vacation in the ghetto"), and shortly thereafter ended up in jail on drugs and firearms charges. It was here he was finally able to kick his habit, soon winning a Grammy for his '96 folk album and since then releasing several albums ranging from country to bluegrass to folk to hard rock, and even writing and directing a play about the death penalty.