JOHNNY CASH-TABLE FOR 3

My move from Indiana to Tucson was my transition into adulthood. The trip was on a Greyhound bus and was my first time ever being further west than St. Louis.

I moved into my fathers place which was located on a “reservation”. The domicile we shared was a travel trailer. Just a step up from the pop up kind.The kind you can spit from one end to the other. It was THAT small.

It sucked living there with a stranger basically, and I hated it. I actually looked forward to school, which was a rarity. I took the bus from our way out post, to the school located a few miles away. Almost every day on the trip home, we would get off the bus a stop or two early, just to watch a fight. It was always the typical fights, but these Mexican kids always made up after. It was cool. 

Going to the school I went to, was wild. I was one of about 50 white kids attending. The rest were Mexican Americans or Native American. 

When I moved out to Tucson, I was thinking this was gonna be some real punk rock landing pad. Little did I know where I was going to land. Coming from the midwest I was used to getting shit for the way I dressed. Alot…

I never really got hassled at my new school. At Cholla, everyone seemed to respect the fact that I stood out and went out on a limb to do so. But every once in a while, I did have a couple of goofballs that would yell out “Hey Sid Vicious!” They seemed to have fun doing it. They laughed at themselves more than at me and the way they talked it seemed they knew WHO Sid Vicious at was. 

Finally one day, I “confronted” them. “What’s up with the SID VICIOUS stuff, man?” 

They just busted out laughing and invited me to lunch with them. We were friends from that moment forward.

The lunch’s at this school meant you could leave campus to pursue other options. In Indiana, that was never the case, we couldn’t even leave the parking lot. We were pretty removed and it was a haul to get food around there. When I first learned we could leave for lunch here in Tucson, I was blown away.In this new situation, I often found myself not wanting to return for the second half of the day.

But these two guys, Joe and Adam, are my new besties. We go to record stores and music stores and I even start to stay with their families at night so I don’t have to make the journey all the way out to my dads. Unbelievable kindness I was shown by total strangers.They are of Mexican descent and there parents are pretty much the kindest people I have ever encountered. They must have totally known what was up when I was around there houses. They fed me, and looked the other way as I climbed in and out of there windows at night to sleep in a safe place.

Adam and Joe also are musicians. And this is a HUGE plus. 

Adam plays guitar and is hugely influenced by Peter Buck of R.E.M. and Joe plays a Gibson S.G. bass. They both have a wacky sense of humor. A ton of inside jokes between them and just a real loose attitude. I would like to think they were EMO way before that was even a thing.

They don’t drink and they love the Descendants. We would listen to records in Adams room and talk about them. Sometimes, he would just take it off the turntable and give the record to me if he didn’t like it. That happened a few times. We would jam on his guitar and play tunes. They also are forming a band.

And needed a drummer. 

See, when I moved out to Arizona, I had pretty much put the drums behind me and was giving the guitar ALL my attention. I practiced a lot and loved the instrument. I would hole up in my dads trailer with Zero Boys on my walkman and the guitar plugged into my amp. I just played all day long out there in that hot tin can.

But, drummers were as rare as hens teeth in Tucson and these guys offered to buy me a drum set if I played in their band. Count me in like Dee Dee Ramone.

My dad had usually called me up around Christmas every year with the same shameful call… “So, what are you into? Drums huh?!?! Maybe I’ll get you a drum set for Christmas!” Man, I heard that for years and the balls it must have taken him to get the courage up to make that call. To lie to his own kids face. Over and over… Well, not literally to his face.

And here these home boys wanted to buy me a drum set? TODAY?!?!

MY first ever drum kit was bought by Adam Lopez. A friend that was working as a bus boy.

More on that in a minute…

Thank you Adam. My gratitude is eternal. 

He took me downtown Tucson to the legendary Chicago Store. That place deserves a story of its own for sure....

Now, Adam always seemed to have a little extra scratch to spend. I was broke as shit all the time. I remember asking him one day how he got all this “cash” he had. He told me he worked as a bus boy at night at an Italian Restaurant. This had my interest. “Hey, If they ever need any help, let me know” I offered. It was almost immediately that I got the job. We would carpool together from school and then I would crash at Adam’s. 

I would sneak in and out the window in the morning so his parents wouldn’t know. They eventually found out, and when they did, they insisted that I stay in the guest house that was outfitted for Adam’s older brother to live in. He was away at the time and this was an awesome opportunity for me. I would actually stay in the park across the street from Adams house sometimes just so I wouldn’t jeopardize  him getting in trouble or me wearing out my welcome

.

So, at this point, we are attached at the hip and if I remember correctly, it was Adam who was going to a new school. It was an alternative H.S. called Project MORE. This was exactly what I needed.

The restaurant we worked at was called Scordatos and it’s kind of a big deal in Tucson. From memory, it was basically an “upscale” Italian joint. The location seemed to add to the overall “allure” of the place.

When hired, I was alerted to the movie stars who would wonder in from time to time. 3 Amigos had just filmed in Old Tucson and I had heard that Steve Martin had come into the restaurant recently. It was talked about in hushed tones and secrecy. We were told in no uncertain terms to NEVER approach the guest.

Makes perfect sense. They are out for a nice dinner and don’t want the attention or the hassle. I GET IT…..

And then it happened!!!

It was just another normal shift. Take out the trash, feed the leftover lettuce to the Javelina that wondered down from the hills at dusk. Back inside, change the linens, get the silverware, wipe the booths down and be seen and not heard. Also, stay out of the way of the waiters and their guest. This was my first real taste of work and I was just getting the whole feel of my place and getting my timing right. So, I was changing a table’s linen one night. I happened to be about two tables from the door where customers come in from the outside. Just as the floating table clothe lands on the table, the door opens. About 3-4 people come in. Just fuzzy shapes to my peripheral vision. 

Not really noticing faces or anything… 

They stand for about 10 seconds waiting for staff to help them and no one is coming to help them as I continue my work and stay out of the way. Then the room starts to go silent. The phrase “Can kill conversation, just by walking in a room”? That was this situation to a tee. Forks hit the plates and you just heard clanking silverware, murmurs and whispers. 

I looked up from the forks and spoons I was setting and notice the party had moved closer to ME as I seemed to be the only “Help” that was there. As, I go to give them a standard greeting like “My name is Dean, and someone will be right with you.”, I look at their faces for the first time really. 

It was like seeing Mt. Rushmore or something for the first time. Something so familiar is staring right back at you. I takes a second to register that this is a face you’ve seen a million times before. On TV? On album covers? So familiar but foreign because of the reality of the situation.

“I’m Johnny Cash” the tall man of the party says as he extends his long arm and shakes my hand.

By this time, it sunk in that this was indeed, the man in black. 

JC- Johnny F’n Cash.

I watched his show on TV growing up. My grandparents listened to him. My parents listened to him. He was synonymous with AMERICA. The gravity of the situation was swirling in my head.

When we shook hands, the rest of the group started to take focus. He was there with June Carter and his daughter Rosanne Cash. Un Frickin’ Believable….

I worried for a nano second about my job and the policy I knew they had about guest. Maybe they would take it easy on me? In truth, I didn’t care AND I didn’t  get in trouble at all. 

But, I did get to meet the Man in Black and the most important women in his life. 

While a very brief encounter, this sticks with me today.

It’s about time and place. Synchronistic stuff.  

I probably would have lost my mind if I had worked a different day and had missed my shot. 

But as fate would have it… we met.

I honored him the day of my marriage. When I married the most important woman in my life. 

Darcy and I had planned to sing “If I were a carpenter” at our wedding. We practiced for a month or two before the big day. Me on guitar and her doing the June Carter parts. 

We were married on Sept. 13th. 2003.

It was Sept. 12th  2003 when Johnny Cash passed away.

As fate would have it…