RIP Buck Owens and Cindy Walker

It was another bad weekend for country music. Two legends, Buck Owens and Cindy Walker, passed away. One probably got some coverage in your local paper; the other probably didn't.

The AP obit for Owens likely made it into your newspaper of choice, and rightfully so. Unfortunately, the headline probably said something like "'Hee Haw' host, 76, dies." And while Owens certainly was one of the hosts of "Hee Haw," he was far more than that. He earns the official Tinsel and Rot Seal of Approval for the album "Buck Owens Sings Harlan Howard," a fine collection of his takes on some of the great songs from the catalog of the man who may have been the best country songwriter of all time.

I don't claim to be an ardent follower of Owens's career, but Peter Cooper's story in The Tennessean does a nice job of explaining Owens's importance to country music. A couple of sentences at the end of the article stuck out:

"For months, Mr. Owens' declining health was causing him to stay away from his Crystal Palace stage. Friday evening, though, he made a surprise appearance at the Palace, performing for more than an hour. Then he went home to bed, and, according to his family, died in his sleep."

If you've gotta go, that seems like a good way to go out. RIP, Buck.

***

Cindy Walker's obit may have had a harder time making its way into your morning paper. But Walker holds just as important a spot in the history of country music. The subject of a recent tribute CD by Willie Nelson , Walker wrote hundreds of killer songs, including "Dream Baby" (popularized by Roy Orbison, charter member of the Tinsel and Rot Hall of Fame), "Cherokee Maiden," "Miss Molly," "Bubbles In My Beer" (cowritten with Bob Wills [still the king] and Tommy Duncan), and her most popular number "You Don't Know Me," most memorably performed by Ray Charles but covered by dozens of others. In my mind, she's not only unquestionably the best female country songwriter of all time, but also one of the best songwriters of all time, period.

"Bubbles In My Beer" and "Going Away Party," a song written later in her career, are indicative of Walker's mastery of the country song form:

"Bubbles In My Beer"

Tonight in the bar alone I'm sitting
Apart from the laughter and the cheer
While scenes from the past rise before me
I'm watching the bubbles in my beer

A vision of someone who loves me
Brings a lone, silent tear to my eye
And I know that my life's been a failure
Just watching the bubbles in my beer

I'm seeing the road that I've traveled
A road paved with heartaches and tears
And I'm seeing the past that I've wasted
Just watching the bubbles in my beer

As I think of the heart that I've broken
And the golden chances that have passed me by
And the dreams that I made now are empty
As empty as the bubbles in my beer

(Unichappell Music, Inc./Chappell & Co., Inc./Red River Songs, Inc. BMI/ASCAP)

"Going Away Party"

I'm throwing a going away party
A party for a dream of mine
So put me somewhere off in a corner
With a glass and bottle of your party wine

Don't worry, it won't be a loud party
I feel too low to get too high
It's just a sad going away party
For a dream I'm telling goodbye

Don't worry, it won't be a loud party
Dreams don't make noise when they die
It's just a sad going away party
For a dream I'm telling goodbye

(Acuff Rose Music Inc. BMI)

Not exactly pick-me-ups, but good country songs shouldn't be. The last verses of both songs hit you right in the heart. And by "you," I mean "me," for I am now your representative in life.

For all her songwriting genius, Cindy Walker's finest moment came during her induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1997. Her speech plays on a loop in the Hall of Fame, and I wish it would play on a loop on its own cable channel so I could watch it every day.

It's better with the visual of Walker in her dress (I tried to help out, but Blogger is having upload issues at the moment) and hearing her quavering delivery, but the speech went something like this:

"In the 1980s. my mother bought me a dress for a BMI affair
And she said, 'When they put you in the Hall of Fame, that's the dress I want you to wear'
And I said, 'Oh, mama . . . the Hall of Fame--why that will never be'
And the years went by, but my mother's words remained in my memory

And I know tonight she'd be happy
Though she's gone now to her rest,
I think of all that she did for me
And, tonight, I'm wearing that dress!"

RIP, Cindy. Hope you and mom are getting reacquainted.