May the Power of Porter compel you, always and forever

The man who taught me all about the cold, hard facts of life and how to go down swingin' even in the best times has gotten up and left the building, and my rhinestone-studded heart just isn't feeling so sparkly tonight. America has lost one of her last honest-to-God honky tonk treasures in Porter Wagoner, and this'll take a while to get over, since talent of this caliber is always way ahead of its time and doesn't exactly come along to sucker-punch you very often these days.

But I'll never forget the first time I ever tripped balls on Porter, roughly ten years ago when I was smack-dab in the middle of a divorce. Danny - my BFF forever to the rescue with the perfect tune - put on "I'll Go Down Swingin'" from an LP compilation of his mother's. I don't know what came over me, but something just clicked and it went right to my gut, then straight down to my fabled little happy place. We played it over and over again until we knew it by heart, and from that moment on I knew I'd always have a friend in Porter Wagoner. And after getting into the rest of his catalog and discovering the greatness of songs like "What Would You Do (If Jesus Came To Your House)," "Green, Green Grass of Home," "Confessions of a Broken Man," "Julie," "The Cold Hard Facts of Life" and "The Rubber Room," it hit me that this wasn't your usual Nashville fare, about as far from radio-friendly as you could get, and that our Porter had a dark side that could out-black Johnny Cash's at times. And honey, we all know that's no small feat.

So thank you for the music and the memories, Mr. Wagoner. And while Dolly beat me to the punch long ago, well, I'll always love you, too.

Some Porter happiness for The People:

Atlanta historian Greg Germani's 'Cold Hard Facts of Life' album cover pilgrimage to Nashville

Dolly lovin' her some "Julie" (Bitches took it down! Argh!)

Porter's neighbor's fond reflections

Remembrances from some of his more famous friends

SoCal on the brain

Stay safe, people...

"The Santa Anas blew in hot from the desert, shriveling the last of the spring grass into whiskers of pale straw. Only the oleanders thrived, their delicate poisonous blooms, their dagger green leaves. We could not sleep in the hot dry nights, my mother and I. I woke up at midnight to find her bed empty. I climbed to the roof and easily spotted her blond hair like a white flame in the light of the three-quarter moon." - Janet Fitch's White Oleander

"There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge." - Raymond Chandler's Red Wind

"The San Bernardino Valley lies only an hour east of Los Angeles by the San Bernardino Freeway but is in certain ways an alien place: not the coastal California of the subtropical twilights and the soft westerlies off the Pacific, but a harsher California, haunted by the Mojave just beyond the mountains, devastated by the hot dry Santa Ana wind that comes down through the passes at 100 miles an hour and whines through the eucalyptus windbreaks and works on the nerves. October is the bad month for the wind, the month when breathing is difficult and the hills blaze up spontaneously." - Joan Didion's Slouching Toward Bethlehem

Check out other quotes and Santa Anas lore here...

LA Times coverage of the disaster...

Red Cross news & info on preparedness & how to help...