Concrete Pencil: Cash has answers to every question

By Simon Hayes on August 4, 2010 1:50 PM |

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Dan Bourke

Dan Bourke finds everday solace in the words of the Man In Black.

At most times, but mostly in times of trouble, Johnny Cash has the answer. Just found out the pool king who taught you a lesson on the green baize in the City Arms is your long-lost dad? Try The Baron.

Arrested by Canary Wharf security after being found at 3am picking flowers on Cabot Square? Starkville City Jail.

Given your boss that long-deserved chinning at your leaving do? Oney.

Stolen a photocopier bit by tiny bit over a career of 20 years? One Piece At A Time.

If you're only here because some city girl forced you to leave the country, go for Ballad Of Barbara (although sadly I don't think he ever covered Streets Of Baltimore by Gram Parsons, which deals with the same circumstances ever better).

Found wrongfully guilty of stealing stationery when the only witness is your colleague's wife, standing silent in a Long Black Veil? Help is at hand from the master.

I love Cash, as you may be able to tell.

When I got married, I wanted the first dance at our wedding to be When I've Got It On My Mind.

The Concrete Fiancee was a true Cash convert, but she blanched at the rather unsubtly lewd overtones of it ("I like to get my lovin' while I got it on my mind").

Indeed, it would have gone down with her Welsh, rugby-loving family about as well as his version of Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.

But even though he may be gone, and I may not have found a suitable tune of his to mark the start of my marriage, he's a great help still almost every day.

So if I'm just pretending to take aim across the office but I accidentally ping an elastic band at the head of some innocent middle manager, I'll play I Hung My Head before getting my written warning.

When I think about home it's Just The Other Side Of Nowhere.

Counting my domestic blessing: Thing Called Love. Still at work at midnight? Dark As A Dungeon. Twitching on Sunday night thinking about rotas? Sunday Morning, Coming Down.

But mostly, lately, I've been thinking about My Old Faded Rose, and thinking that jobs are girlfriends of whom you've grown tired, but who suddenly seem insanely appealing when it looks like they might be taken away.

"I didn't mean that the grass was green and your leaves were fading brown. No don't take me so seriously when I tell you don't hang around. And I've seen you don't need pruning, and who do you suppose, is back in line for one more time with his old faded rose?"

Exactly.