Tonight I put my cowgirl boots on and went and saw a little movie about June and Johnny. It was great.. it made my heart smile. I couldn’t get over how beautiful Reese is, and how like June she became with the long hair. And Joaquin? Joaquin was Cash.
I still remember how a friend’s father told me of his experience with Johnny Cash. He is a photographer, and had worked a shoot with John at some point. A few years back, not that long before John died, he ran into John on the street.. in New York, I think. He said to him, “Hey, Johnny.” Johnny kept on walking for a few metres before turning and pointing at him, saying, “Steve, right?” He then turned and kept on walking.
I drove home tonight, listening to songs that have been both inspiring and hurting me lately. I looked out to the bay and thought of him, and wondered how he was doing. I drove his route to my house, as I have often in the past year and a bit.
I came home, took off of my boots, took off of my jeans. In the mirror I saw not June, but me, and I sat down with my guitar. Taking one last look at my long nails, I clipped them off, picked it up and wrote a song.
I don’t know if you’ll ever hear it; maybe one day I’ll sing it for you.