Harris in the Hall

I remember the first time I heard Gram Parsons's first solo album called "GP," early in 1973. I was a big fan of The Flying Burrito Brothers and thought their album "The Gilded Palace of Sin" was one of the great LPs in the history of rock. But then Parsons left the Burritos to go solo and I was more than just a little bit anxious to hear the results.

The first time I heard the "GP" album I was startled by this woman's voice of amazing purity that was featured on harmony vocals. I asked my brother if he knew who this woman was. He looked at the album's jacket and told me "Someone named Emmylou Harris."

That began my fascination with Emmylou Harris, a fascination that reached its apex one evening at the Biltmore Hotel in downtown Los Angeles when I enjoyed several dances with Ms. Harris at a post-Grammy Awards celebration.

Now today comes this word that Emmylou Harris is to be inducted this year in the Country Music Hall of Fame. I am happy for her--she has earned this recognition. However, it leaves me with the same feeling I have when, strolling through an antique mall, I see something, stop and want to scream: "That can't be an antique! I actually used one of those!"