Brookfield Basics

Some of my favorite songs are recordings artists do of another artist’s song. Such efforts are known “covers”, and many are abject failures, little more than insults to the original artist. But there are some tremendous successes as well, and some of my favorite recordings are covers, where one artist takes the work of another, and adds a completely new dimension and texture to an already great song.

The other night I listened to one of those successes; a recording that Johnny and June Carter Cash did of Bob Dylan’s 1960’s hit “It Ain’t Me Babe”. The Cash/Carter recording is infinitely more rich and varied than Dylan’s. The components are some mariachi horns, an exquisitely evocative harmonica, a folk guitar, and the playful duet of their voices. Johnny’s throaty bass singing melody, with June Carter’s winsome tones providing beautiful harmonies.

As I listened to the song for the second time I got to thinking about the couple and their incredible story, recently depicted in the fabulous film Walk the Line. And as I listened a second time another couple came to mind: Brett and Deanna Favre.

I was struck by the similarities between Cash and Favre. Both grew up in the rural south and bear the imprint of the southern soil and experience upon their lives. Johnny Cash made his fame and fortune in the country music industry; Brett Favre’s nickname is “Country”. Both men climbed to the pinnacle of success in their respective industries, accumulating vast wealth and fame through their exploits. Both battled and ultimately defeated addictions that were the direct result of the exorbitant demands of their careers. Both men wore their hearts on their sleeves on the most public of stages, refusing to fabricate or pretend. Cash’s strong and uncomplicated emotions came out in his songs; Favre’s come out in his play. In both we can see joy, tears, pain, exultation, triumph, and defeat. But never, from either one, have we ever seen fear.

There are many people who achieve fame and wealth but few who achieve the status of legend. We forget what a mega-star Cash was, as big as Sinatra or Elvis or Jagger. We forget how marvelously productive he was well into his 70’s, leaving his final imprint on the American music scene with his incomparable “America Five” series. His funeral was a virtual State event, with the heaviest of heavy weights like Clapton, Dylan, Jagger, Richards, Young, Bono, and dozens of other titans in attendance. They came to pay silent homage to the man who, along with Elvis, paved the way for them.

Favre is not only universally loved, but also universally respected by his fans, his league, and most tellingly, by his peers. The end of each Packer game now sees the same familiar scene, as players and coaches from the opposing team congregate around the great one, seeking only to pay their respects, shake his hand, or just give his shoulder pads a rap or two. Who amongst us can forget his raw but utterly genuine outpouring at the end of the New Year’s Eve game against the Bears, as we sat in slack-jawed wonder and asked ourselves “is this it”? Just as Cash’s live performance at Folsom Prison had done, that sideline interview captured Brett in microcosm. There was no affectation or scripted message. There was only “Country”, standing there in the thirsty gaze of the camera, putting his true, uncomplicated heart out there for us to see.

But perhaps more than all these similarities, these two shared the love of and marriage to remarkable women. Unlike Deanna Favre, June Carter was famous in her own right. But while his public star may have eclipsed hers, it shone no more brightly. And who can doubt the courage and character of Deanna Favre as we have watched her stand in the gap with Brett; the gaps of addiction, injury, raising and protecting their daughters from the demands of their father’s super-stardom, and finally of course; the great battle of her cancer.

It must take a special woman to love and stand with a man who is adored and lauded; and whose very persona is claimed by millions to be public property. We know them as legends; they knew and know them as husbands and partners. One tries to imagine the crucible they live in, and the efforts they make to somehow carve out the semblance of a normal life, life as we “mortals” know it. Can there be any doubt that it was the steel beneath the magnolia blossoms of these two gritty southern women that helped see their husbands through to the other side of addiction, personal tragedy, and the false gods of wealth and fame?

I don’t think I will ever listen to a Johnny Cash song again without thinking of all four of these people. And maybe next fall as I watch Brett play, I will think of the “Man in Black” as Cash was known, and of the similarities these two warriors share.

They have provided so much joy and memories to all of us. But most of all, they share that common brand of gr