My Roundabout Tribute to John Prine

It was a beautiful day in Raleigh on May 28, 1992. My best buddy on the face of the earth; I'll just call him Joe Mama because, well that's what I call him anyway, was in town to take me to see John Prine and Cowboy Junkies in concert at Memorial Auditorium. I have to admit that I was way more excited about the Cowboy Junkies, but Joe Mama's exuberant idolatry of Prine piqued my interest in hearing him too.

A little about my friendship with Joe Mama. I first met him at a training session for Orkin Exterminating company in the 80's (yes, I was briefly a pest control inspector, but I quit because roaches, ewwwww!) and we became fast friends after we discovered we shared the same birthday. From that day on, we blazed a trail everywhere we went. There was never a moment I spent with Joe Mama that didn't turn into some type of adventure, misadventure, or random shenanigatory mischief, mostly in an inebriated state.

One of those inebriated states.

Back to the story-

We are on our way to the show when Joe Mama informs me as we drive by a skeezy looking store that we need to stop there. 'Here?' 'Yeah, I need to buy some weed.' 'Say what?' First of all, he should already have some. What self respecting John Prine fan doesn't have their own weed? Second, of course, Joe Mama picks the worst part of town to stop and ask some random stranger for pot. Well, it is Joe Mama, so what could possibly go wrong? Cue the dramatic music.

Joe Mama tells me that he'll be back in a few minutes. 'You'd better, because Cowboy Junkies go on in about 15 minutes.' "OK, Patience', he calls me as he always does because I have none. I give him the evil eye as he wanders off with some dude. I sit in the car with the doors locked.

15 minutes have gone by and now I'm pissed. All I can think of is how I'm going to verbally eviscerate Joe Mama when he gets back. I've got all my best stuff lined up to throw at him.

30 minutes have passed and now I'm a bit worried, but still a little mad that I am missing Cowboy Junkies. I know I should be freaking out at this point, but Joe Mama has a way of turning a 5 minute conversation into a 2 hour party with brand new temporary best friends. It's a pretty impressive skill; his sociability factor is off the charts.

Okay, it's been 45 minutes; Joe Mama is obviously dead. I try to come up with something I can say to the police when I talk to them. Seriously, how do you explain that your best friend went to buy weed and never came back? Officer- 'Where did he go?' 'I don't know.' 'Who was he with?' 'I don't know.' 'When did you see him last?' 'Hey, I can answer that one!' I mean, if he's dead I guess it won't matter what I tell the cops, but if by some slim chance he's still alive, am I going to get him in trouble? Do I have the car keys? Yes, good. Do I have my cell to call 911? Yeah, those don't become mainstream until the late 90's, and at this point they are the size of a suitcase, so that's a hard no. Do I leave here and go to the police station? I think that's what I'm about to do. Do I hope Joe Mama is okay so I can kill him when I see him again? Mostly definitely. I am freaking out.

I take off toward the police station. Then I pull over and hyperventilate. Then I take off for the police station. Then I pull over and lose my shit. Then, for some unknown reason, I turn around to go check the store one last time before the beginning of the end. There he is. Smiling. I almost get whiplash from the two thoughts in my mind, fighting for control-OMG, HE'S ALIVE! I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life! -and- OMG, HE'S ALIVE! I'm going to run him over, then back over him again! This is the only time in my life that I believe there was an angel and a devil on my shoulder, both screaming in my ear.

Not only did he not acquire his weed, he also lost is money. Dude says to him, 'give me your money. You wait here and I'll be right back.' Joe Mama waited all that time thinking that this dude was coming back. Extraordinary optimism or unimaginable imbecility? You decide.

Of course we missed Cowboy Junkies, but John Prine's songs, filled with lyrical wonder, helped calm my mind and bring me back to a sense of the whimsy and absurdity of the circumstances surrounding our evening. In what will someday be my final trip around the sun, I will still laugh about what turned into another Joe Mama and Squeela saga.

I really am fortunate to have a friend in my life that has brought me such joy, mayhem, and hellagood stories. I love you forever, Joe Mama. And thanks for introducing me to John Prine's music, in a most John Prine kind of way.

RIP, Mr. Prine.