SINGING MAILMAN WHO DELIVERS A POWERFUL MESSAGE IN A FEW WORDS

SINGING MAILMAN(ˈmālˌman) WHO DELIVERS(dəˈlivər) A POWERFUL MESSAGE IN A FEW WORDS

By Roger Ebert

While “digesting(dəˈjest, dīˈjest) Reader’s Digest” in a dirty(ˈdərdē) book store, John Prine tells us in one of his songs, a patriotic(ˌpātrēˈädik) citizen came across one of those little American flag decals(ˈdēkal).

He stuck it on his windshield(ˈwin(d)ˌSHēld) and liked it so much he added flags from the gas station, the bank and the supermarket, until one day he blindly(ˈblīndlē) drove off the road and killed himself. St. Peter broke the news:

“Your flag decal won’t get you into heaven anymore; It’s already overcrowded(ˌōvərˈkroud) from your dirty little war.”

Lyrics(ˈlirik) like this are earning John Prine one of the hottest underground reputations(ˌrepyəˈtāSHən) in Chicago(-ˈkägō,SHiˈkôgō) these days. He’s only been performing professionally since July, he sings at the out-of-the-way Fifth Peg(peg), 858 W. Armitage, and country-folk(fōk) singers aren’t exactly(igˈzak(t)lē) putting rock out of business. But Prine is good.

He appears on stage with such modesty(ˈmädəstē) he almost seems to be backing into the spotlight(ˈspätˌlīt). He sings rather quietly(ˈkwīət), and his guitar(ɡəˈtär) work is good, but he doesn’t show off. He starts slow. But after a song or two, even the drunks in the room begin to listen to his lyrics. And then he has you.

He does a song called “The Great Society Conflict(ˈkänˌflikt) Veteran’s(ˈvedərən, ˈvetrən) Blues,” for example, that says more about the last 20 years in America than any dozen adolescent(ˌadlˈesənt) acid(ˈasəd)-rock peace(pēs) dirges(dərj). It’s about a guy(gī) named Sam Stone who fought in Korea and got some shrapnel(ˈSHrapnəl) in his knee(nē).

But the morphine(ˈmôrˌfēn) eased(ēz) the pain(pān), and Sam Stone came home “with a Purple(ˈpərpəl) Heart and a monkey on his back.” That’s Sam Stone’s story, but the tragedy(ˈtrajədē) doesn’t end there. In the chorus(ˈkôrəs), Prine reverses(rəˈvərs) the point of view with an image of stunning(ˈstəniNG) power:

“There’s a hole in Daddy’s arm Where all the money goes…”

You hear lyrics like these, perfectly fitted to Prine’s quietly confident style and his ghost(gōst) of a Kentucky(kənˈtəkē) accent(ˈakˌsent), and you wonder how anyone could have so much empathy(ˈempəTHē) and still be looking forward to his 24th birthday on Saturday.

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https://www.rogerebert.com/balder-and-dash/john-prine-american-legend