Yabba Dabba Doo, the King is gone, and so are you

Last night I broke the seal
on a Jim Beam decanter
That looks like Elvis,
I soaked the label off
a Flintstone Jelly Bean jar…

I pulled the head off Elvis,
Filled Fred up to his pelvis,
Yabba Dabba Doo, the King is gone
And so are you…

– 'The King is Gone and so are you,' by George Jones.

So long, George. So long, Possum. So long, No-Show Jones.

Your 2013 "Grand Tour" ended before it started.

We had looked forward to seeing you at this year's Ohio State Fair. Instead, we'll play the CDs we have and probably buy a few more we didn't have.

We'll share memories, too, of our all-time favorite George Jones songs. Songs like "Choices," "Who's Gonna Fill Their Shoes?" and "A Picture of Me (Without You)."

We won't care, either, if other folks don't understand real country music. We've been laughed at before, after all, for listening to Hank, and Ernest, and Lefty.

We'll raise a toast or two in your honor, while taking comfort in the knowledge that you finally conquered those demons more than a decade ago.

We'll recall your rumored escapades with Greenfield native son and fellow Grand Ole Opry member Johnny Paycheck, also known as Donald Eugene Lytle (May 31, 1938 – February 19, 2003).

We'll wish that you and Johnny recorded more than one album together. We know you could have improved on your "Double Trouble" album from 1980, which included such improbable selections as: "When You're Ugly Like Us (You Just Naturally Got to Be Cool)" and the CCR rock classic "Proud Mary."

We'll wonder what you two were drinking in 1980.

We'll wonder, too, if those stories about you and Johnny in long ago Greenfield taverns like the Village Pump and the Diamond Grill are really true. (Maybe legal eagle Conrad Curren remembers these stories?)

We'll laugh when an honorable Cincinnati shyster stops by The Highland County Press with autographed photos of your old pal Johnny Paycheck.

We'll think of the George Jones bumper sticker affixed to an old pickup truck in Greenfield which reads: "Possum – The Other White Meat."

We'll remember that you once cost this columnist a $5 wager for actually playing an outdoor concert in – of all places – suburban Jasper, Ohio.

We'll note, for the record, that contrary to my prediction, and subsequent wager, you were not "No-Show Jones" on that particular day in 1993 or '94. You played to an "arena" that was little more than a five-acre cow pasture along Route 32 in Pike County. But, by God, you played. And people loved you.

The next morning's debris was strewn across the field from end to end, resembling those old Woodstock aftermath photos. For the sake of the local country music fans, I was happy to pay the five bucks.

We'll see the irony of your Jasper, Ohio concert when we read that you left home at age 16 and went to Jasper, Texas, where you sang and played on the local radio station for the first time.

We'll laugh again at the garden-tractor story, as shared by wife No. 3 (of four), the late Tammy Wynette in her 1979 autobiography. Upon waking around 1 a.m. to find you gone, Tammy writes: "I got into the car and drove to the nearest bar 10 miles away. When I pulled into the parking lot, there sat our rider-mower right by the entrance. He'd driven that mower right down a main highway."

After a laugh or two, we'll think of the lyrics from your "Choices" single.

I've had choices,
Since the day that I was born.
There were voices,
That told me right from wrong.
If I had listened,
No I wouldn't be here today.
Living and dying,
With the choices I made.

We'll be sad, too. Sad that we missed you at this summer's Ohio State Fair. And sad that you did not live to sing a few songs at your final concert, to be held on Nov. 22, 2013, at Bridgestone Arena in Nashville.

We'll not stop loving you today – or anytime soon.

Rest in peace, George. But play some music in heaven, too. Nobody sings "Amazing Grace," with anymore soul and inspiration than you.

(George Jones died Friday, April 26, 2013 at Vanderbilt University Medical Centre in Nashville, Tennessee. He was 81. He left many millions of fans, including this one.)

Rory Ryan is publisher of The Highland County Press.