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(author of Comedians of Country Music, The Carter Family: Country Music's First Family, Classic Country and The Best of Country: The Official CD Guide and contributor to Country Music Stars and the Supernatural and The Tennessee Encyclopedia of History & Culture)

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Even the most-informed and dedicated reviewers of Larry Jordan’s 661-page Jim Reeves biography will be frustrated by this oversize paperback’s lack of an index.

Given Jordan’s otherwise impressive attention to detail and control over his finished, self-published product, this omission is especially stunning.

No less surprising is the reaction that this book received even prior to publication, for glimpses of its author’s research of nearly a dozen years leading up to publication were variously surmised, or otherwise known, by an international audience ranging from rabid Jim Reeves fans, who still carry the torch for a man they are either unable or unwilling to separate from his mythology, to those intimates who, in some cases, Jordan exposes as detractors.

Jordan’s is not the first published book on Jim Reeves but it is the most comprehensive. Pansy Cook wrote The Saga of Jim Reeves back in 1977. But neither that slim (27-page) paperback, Michael Streissguth’s more serious endeavor, a 256-page hardcover (Like A Moth To A Flame: The Jim Reeves Story, published in 1998, bundled with a 6-song Reeves CD), nor Joyce Gray Jackson’s 2009 200-page paperback, My Memories of Jim Reeves and Other Celebrities (reviewed here) approach the steadfastness of Larry Jordan’s undertaking.

Given that these earlier books, as well as Larry’s own, devote considerable space to reminding readers of Jim’s beautiful voice, his aborted baseball career, his hits, his brief film career (in Kimberly Jim), a singularly-inexplicable world-wide following that has continued decades beyond his death, his widow Mary’s business acumen that resulted in the release and sales of “new” Jim Reeves music long after the singer’s passing (including posthumous "duets"), and so forth, even with those omissions in this review I can’t begin to touch on all of the new ground Larry Jordan “plows,” regarding not only the above-referenced subjects, but others.

For Jordan’s mission was to write, as definitively as possible, a book that would capture Jim Reeves’ essence; one Jordan and the rest of us authors who had discussed with Mary Reeves Davis, the idea of ghostwriting the book she alternately planned and abandoned, envisioned as rendering any successive efforts redundant.

Of course, given the numerous examples Larry cites of pill-popping, alcohol-dependent, sometimes pudgy Jim’s infidelities (along with the naming of children possibly born of those dalliances) and hints of Mary’s own indiscretions (notably with Bud Logan, whose sometimes duet partner, Wilma Burgess, Jordan claims “had a lesbian love interest in Mary”), the sort of candor required on those subjects alone would tend to rule out the protector of Jim Reeves’ musical (and financial) legacy (whomever her ghostwriter) as “Gentlemen Jim’s” definitive biographer.

Along these lines, the largest revelation of Jordan’s research- beyond the various portrayals of Jim as both cheap and generous, chauvinistic and misogynistic yet at times chivalrous, solicitous and deferential- is the discovery of one of Larry’s key sources, the most personally and professionally influential and impacting of Jim’s mistresses: Bea Terry. One of the more interesting anecdotes of the book, in fact, concerns Reeves’ unknowingly sabotaging Terry’s attempt to land Jim a coveted slot on Bob Hope’s annual Christmas tour.

In addition to fascinating anecdotes, Jordan’s book is full of wonderful photos from various sources and time periods. And trivia fans will have a field day! For instance, who knew James Kirkland (one of whose many claims to fame was as one of Jim Reeves’ Blue Boys) was married to actors Bobby and Johnny Crawford’s sister, Nance? And, did you know that Gail Talley, identified as one of Jim’s gal pals, later married famed guitarist/veteran Mercury Records producer Jerry Kennedy? Or that, as child and young man, Jim was known by his middle name (Travis)? Or that Reeves was claustrophobic, afraid of water and that he had premonitions of his death?

A child at the time of Jim’s death, I wasn’t aware, much less of a fan, of his music. Growing up in St. Louis Park, Minnesota, I was big fan a local rock band coming off a national hit at the time, so imagine my surprise to learn when reading this book that the messages of condolence that Mary received upon Jim’s death included a telegram from unlikely mourners: The Trashmen of Surfin’ Bird (The Bird is the Word) and Bird Dance Beat fame.

Jordan shares another story about Jim touring Germany with Bobby Bare on April 7, 1964. Bobby, already celebrated his 29th birthday by getting drunk, but that was not enough for Reeves who told Bare “We’re going to find you some [female companionship]...” (Bobby married Jeannie- not to be confused with either that Fraulein nor the one supposedly shared by Chet Atkins, Bare and Blue Boy Leo Jackson- Bobby’s long-suffering wife, on December 3rd of that year).

Kennedy assassination conspiracy theorists will be especially interested in the pages detailing Jim’s own answer to “Where were you…?” (Reeves was in Dallas on Friday, November 22, 1963, slated to perform that evening. And, according to the account present here, Jim recognized Lee Harvey Oswald as someone Reeves had encountered while performing on more than occasion.)

Jordan also provides us with Jim’s correspondence, including a February 26, 1963 note to RCA Records executive Pat Kelleher in which Jim confides: “Even I can only be a gentleman so long and must occasionally lose my composure and raise a bit of plain ole hell.”

While Dean Manuel might have been little more than a name encountered in most accounts of the Jim Reeves’ death, Larry’s depiction of Manuel makes Dean come alive in the form of a personality, supposed weak kidneys and all, rather than just an historical footnote, courtesy of an interview with Dean’s widow provided Jordan. Likewise, who knew that Ray Price’s wife, Linda was the “unsung hero,” organizing the post-Reeves plane crash search party?

Where facts about and instances involving Jim Reeves are in dispute, in several instances Larry Jordan does a good job of providing disparate sources, so it is somewhat troubling that Larry is critical of Michael Streissguth but yet doesn’t question Colin Escott’s motives, nor explain why the reader is to be believe some of Jordan’s own unsourced beliefs for reasons beyond because he says so. (A reader might well wonder why, for instance, Larry not only failed to question Bea Terry's insistence that, as the victim of an act of brutality, she was battered but not raped. While indicating that the culprit was caught Jordan does not name him. Why not?)

And why does Jordan suggest that Jim’s duet partner, Dottie West paved the way for women in country music? If Miss Country Sunshine was one of Reeves’ extramarital conquests, a rumor Larry does nothing to discourage, does that not send a contradictory message?

With the publication of any article or book on Jim Reeves, the more controversial aspects of his life and death provoke much discussion, not all of it civil, on cyberspace message boards. A check of those forums will provide the specifics of factual errors or supposed factual error in this book.

This review closes with verifiable errors that should be corrected in a subsequent edition Larry might want to publish, if only to add a chapter following the final ruling in the Jim Reeves estate case as that did not occur prior to publication.

In addition to a captioned photo of two people on page 647 in which only Mary Reeves is identified, the “mystery man” should be disclosed in that book. There should also be a correct spelling of Lefty Frizzell’s name. Frizzell’s surname was misspelled not only twice, but differently each time!

Buddy Harman’s surname is also incorrectly spelled as are those of John Seigenthaler and Mark Dinning, while Tennessee’s 41st governor was Frank Clement (not Frank Clements).

Jordan has an odd reference to “Richard Wagstaff” as the man “professionally known as Dick Clark.” (Dick Clark’s full name is Richard Wagstaff Clark) and he also gets Martin Katahn's name wrong.

Larry writes that Leo Jackson told him that Jim and the Blue Boys bought “most of our clothes at Ken Sloan” in what appears to be a reference to Nashville’s now-defunct Cain-Sloan Department store.

Jordan also gets the story of the closing line of Jimmy Dean’s signature song, Big John wrong. The song, as originally written, did refer to the protagonist as a “hell” of a man, but since the word “hell” was not radio-friendly the line referred to John as a “big, big man” not, as Larry writes, a “heckuva” man.

The Singing Brakeman’s name was Jimmie Rodgers, not Jimmy, as in one mention (though the correct spelling of Jimmie is found on another page, indicating Larry knew better but simply missed a galleys correction.)

Finally, Jordan identifies Will Jones as having been a writer for the “Minneapolis Star Tribune” in 1964. In 1964 Jones wrote for the Minneapolis Tribune, the Mill City’s morning daily. (That newspaper did not merge with The Minneapolis Star, Minneapolis’ afternoon daily until 1982.)

The title was an easy choice: He Stopped Loving Her Today.

The subtitle (George Jones, Billy Sherrill, and the Pretty-Much Totally True Story of the Making of the Greatest Country Record of All Time) doesn’t flow quite as easily, perhaps because of the mythology of the claim.

George Jones tells me he didn’t even know about the book until I asked his reaction! And, as far as the song being “the greatest country record of all time,” Jack Isenhour doesn’t question the oft-repeated claim let alone properly source it. Had he spoken with me, apparently the only Jones biographer with whom Isenhour did not speak, I would have reminded Jack that the now-defunct Country Music (Magazine) critics’ poll was the source one would think Isenhour’s University Press of Mississippi editor would have required the author cite.

That the poll did not include all of the magazine’s writers, me among them (I was a music critic for several local, regional and national country-music publications before bringing my contributions to the music reviews page of this Web site), certainly brings the results into question. But to argue the point one must cite a “better” alternative and that is a losing game, because opinions, respected and otherwise, are as numerous as- well, you get the idea.

That said, there is no disputing, as Charlie McCoy puts it, that "The song is the picture. Everything else is the frame."

This, Jack Isenhour's third book, details what Bobby Braddock calls the “writing, recording, reception and durability of a single solitary,” and as Billy Sherrill adds, “perfect” composition with the precision one would expect from a West Point graduate. Isenhour is not only that, but a Vietnam veteran (the second-lieutenant and infantryman enlisted), ex-WSM(V)-TV Director of Special Projects and former co-creator/ and executive producer of PBS’ Freedom Speaks (produced through the auspices of the Freedom Forum First Amendment Center at Vanderbilt University).

He Stopped Loving Her Today... is full of nuggets about the collaboration of co-writers Bobby Braddock and Curly Putman (including the fact that their ownership of the song is not the customary 50/50 split) and the song's producer, Billy Sherrill (a/k/a "the man with the fuzzy balls," to Billy's grandfather, anyway).

At points hyped to the hilt (references to “the 1980 smash hit that saved George Jones’ career, if not his life” are not uncommon), Isenhour combines a researcher’s skills with the devotion of a smitten fan.

But, as with that gushing observation, the research falls short at times such as when Isenhour quotes Frank Sinatra as proclaiming George Jones “the second-greatest male singer in America” without disclosing Sinatra’s top choice. (It was Tony Bennett.) The pattern continues as Jack fails to consider that had “the 1980 smash” been life-saving (either literally, or figuratively) in the sense that, had George gained a renewed appreciation for his past success, Jones would not have been arrested for (his second) DUI in 1982 nor, 17 years later, would he have engaged in similarly reckless, and potentially suicidal and homicidal behavior as when he crashed his Lexus SUV into a concrete bridge after purchasing a pint of vodka and reaching for something while speaking on his cell phone.

Isenhour barely mentions the second incident in his book. But as prospective readers argue “Why should he? This book is about the creation of a hit song, rendering most everything else irrelevant,” it is important to realize that in order to fill a short, 185-page book (not including nearly 10 pages of sources and a 13-page index) about a single song, no matter how arguably great, Jack goes out on several tangents, be they Nudie Cohn’s Jewishness or the rise of Todd Storz and rock radio.

Most troubling of these, given the Possum’s history with the judicial system, is Jones’ cozy relationship with Davidson County’s Sheriff Daron Hall and (former) General Sessions Judge John Brown, George’s backstage pass buddies.

Of course, music historians don’t begrudge any such analytical asides (and there have to be many in even such a short book as this, after dissecting a single song from every possible angle- even if one subscribes to Jones’ belief that his “40-year career” was “salvaged by a three-minute song.” (Or, as Isenhour is quick to add, “Three minutes, fifteen seconds to be exact.”)

Songwriters will especially appreciate the references to technique, such as observations of the execution of He Stopped Loving Her Today, specifically how the third person omniscient references in the narrative switch to the first person while the verses maintain the ABAB rhyme scheme.

Perhaps this book's paperback edition will properly identify Earl “Peanut” Montgomery and John Lentz (identified here as Tammy Wynette’s attorney, but who, for purposes of Jack’s book, should also have been acknowledged as George Jones’ former manager). And I’m sure the late Glenn Sutton's family will also appreciate the correct spelling of his name .

While three authors' names appear on this paperback edition of the latest addition to the Chicken Soup for the Soul series (as is apparent by clicking on the book cover link above), rest assured that it is Randy Rudder whose research and writing represent the work behind this collection of "the Inspirational Stories behind 101 of Your Favorite Country Songs." (Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen have no intention of removing their names from what has been an exceedingly-lucrative franchise.)

Ken Kragen manages to contribute a little story-telling of his own in the Foreword to Chicken Soup's country-music version, while Rudder previews the chapters that follow in his Introduction, posing two central questions along the way: "What makes a song a hit?" and "Where do songwriters get the ideas for songs?"

While Randy's first query remains rhetorical, the rest of his book provides at least 101 answers to his second question.

Rudder's 101 song choices range from the old (Man of Constant Sorrow) to the fairly-new (American Honey). And with each song the reader is reminded of the original artist/artists (be they The Soggy Bottom Boys or Lady Antebellum), while notable cover versions and the names of the song's writer(s) are also noted, as these summaries segue to, in most cases, the writer's/co-writer's own account of the inspiration for the song, followed by the lyric sheet.

Of course, authors must obtain written permission to quote lyrics in their books and the sticklers among we music historians are also glad to see Randy's Song Lyric Copyrights chapter, as it reminds us of which publishing company published a given song and the year the song was copyrighted.

A full list of the songs included in this book is available here. (Just click where you see "Look inside the book" then look on the left-hand side of the page that pops up for the Table of Contents link. Click on the Table of Contents link and the names of the songs and those telling the stories about them will be immediately accessible.)

Author and sexpert that I am (don't ask!), and especially after passing the Rorschach Test in the form of cover art for Wynonna's What the World Needs Now CD, I couldn't turn down a request to do a comparative/contrasting review of the third (and latest) editions of Dr. Ruth Westheimer's Sex For Dummies (with Dr. Ruth's "Minister of Communications" Pierre A. Lehu) and Sari Locker , Ph. D.'s The Complete Idiot's Guide to Amazing Sex.

Each of the indexed, oversize paperbacks runs over 400 pages. (Sex for Dummies, the shorter of the two, is also available on Kindle.)

Both texts are designed as reference books and cover a lot of the same material (safe sex, sexual pleasure, sexual instruction, common concerns and myths) in a manner that lead only the most curious to read cover-to-cover.

Sex for Dummies is illustrated and features the familiar Dummies series icons, in this instance to highlight tips, warnings, advice, "hot stuff," clinical information and so forth.

The Complete Idiot's Guide... contains graphic color photos of sexual activity (though ones that reflect the double standards of both law and society in terms of permissible depictions of male vs. female anatomy).

Neither book covers the full sexual spectrum. Bisexuality is covered in both manuals, but asexuality is not.

Sex for Dummies contains a list of support groups and contact information, but the sexual orientation list does not contain a listing of any transsexual support groups.

The Complete Idiot's Guide... contains no listing of support groups, but, in an age of a Dancing With the Stars controversy over the casting of Chaz Bono, its differentiates between the larger transgender (an umbrella term) community and its transsexual subset in a manner that rectifies both ignorance and misunderstanding.

Each book is informative, easy to read and written, as appropriate, with humor.

While I can't recommend one over the other, as each has its particular strengths and weaknesses, I can heartily recommend both.

"Almost everything previously written about him, other than documented facts, most of which are presented in this book, is either untrue or simply distorted depending on who is doing the telling… This memoir/biography is told from Lefty’s point of view, right or wrong, as I knew it.”

This rather defensive-sounding passage defines David Frizzell’s mission to set the record straight about his older brother, but, fortunately for readers, not in a way that whitewashes a lifelong pattern of self-destruction that, while taking nothing away from the accomplishments and influence that made him an integral part of country-music history, brought Lefty Frizzell’s life to a premature end on July 19, 1975 at age 47.

It is a measure of how well David has accomplished his objective that Loretta Lynn, Mel Tillis, Marty Stuart, Jimmy Fortune, Jett Williams, Bill Mack and Charlie Chase have contributed “blurbs” and that this book, titled after the flip side of Lefty’s 1950 double-sided hit (the “A” side being If You’ve Got the Money), also includes a foreword by Frizzell protégé, Merle Haggard.

William Orville Frizzell was never called by either his first nor middle names, nor variations on same. Though a southpaw, from infancy until his death, Naamon and AD Frizzell’s first-born was known as Sonny to his family and friends. (Lefty earned that nickname after a fight with another boy. Some years he later parlayed that staying power into a stage name.)

Dysfunctional young parents, hard times, life on the run and a lack of education shaped Lefty’s childhood as the brother of eight children (one of whom did not live past infancy). Lefty’s bullying, alcoholic father (a decorated World War II veteran) was not above abusing the boy’s mother, pregnant or not (AD endured not only several childbirths but miscarriages as well.)

No wonder Lefty grew up in a hurry! The good-looking, curly-haired Jimmie Rodgers fan fell hard for his first girlfriend and wrote his first song for Margaret after her parents’ disapproval of the young man with no apparent prospects (Sonny had dropped out of school) became clear.

Sonny’s lifelong love of music and performing led to appearances at age 12 on El Dorado, Texas’ KELD Radio’s children’s show. He quickly became a teen sensation when, following his popularity performing at the Treadway Market, house parties, honky-tonks or wherever he could draw a crowd, Sonny was offered the opportunity to sing on KLPT Radio in Paris, Texas.

About the time the radio star bought his first real stage attire he hit the road and transitioned to Lefty. In the spring of 1944 16-year-old Lefty met Alice Harper, also 16, who shortly thereafter became Mrs. Lefty Frizzell..

On February 16, 1946, little more than a month shy of his 18^th birthday, Lefty became a father when Alice gave birth to Lois Aleta Frizzell.

The following year Lefty’s wandering eye got the best of him when, as David tells it, the married-with-child local singing star succumbed to the sexual advances of a 14-year-old fan whom Lefty invited, along with the fan’s female friend, to join Frizzell and his musicians at a riverside beer party.

The fun turned serious later on when Lefty and the other boys were arrested on July 14, 1947 and charged with statutory rape. Each would serve six months of an otherwise suspended two-to-three year state penitentiary sentence in the Chaves County Jail. (David details the incident and its aftermath beyond the summary provided here, as well as some additional information regarding a subsequent arrest in the matter to which he only recently became privy.)

While serving time, Lefty worried about Alice taking the couple’s daughter, Lois and leaving if, as other inmates suggested, Alice weren’t already cheating on Lefty.
But (enabling, by 21^st century standards) Frizzell women-with-children apparently didn’t leave, no matter the provocation, though certainly, it could be argued, Lefty had prospects: After meeting Hank Williams at auditions for the Louisiana Hayride, where Williams won the spot Frizzell coveted, the singer-songwriters paths would cross again a few years later when they “switched songs” in a Little Rock hotel room while sharing some down time as co-headliners on a seven-city tour.

Lefty made his Grand Ole Opry debut in December, 1950. Following a second, equally well-received appearance, Frizzell joined the Opry on July 21, 1951.

No sooner was Lefty a member of the then-exclusive Opry family, however, than, backstage during an August, 1951 appearance on the radio stage show, Frizzell, then 23, was met by two officers. Instructing Lefty to first honor his obligation to finish his segment of the show, the officers left only after serving a warrant on Frizzell for “contributory delinquency.”

Confused? Remember when Hank Williams visited Lefty in Frizzell’s Little Rock hotel room? The song-switching session was interrupted by a young female’s knock on the door. Sensing three was a crowd, Hank excused himself and Lefty once again engaged in what he considered consensual sex, rather than, one again, what turned out to be what the law never considers consensual: sex with a minor.

The backstage warrant served, Lefty’s only concern was concealing the news from his pregnant wife. This seemed like a done deal when, now a star with the power and resources to do so, Frizzell thought he had bought off everyone in a position to jeopardize his marriage

Of course, Alice found out anyway, and when she did she threatened to leave Lefty.

Instead, she and Lefty welcomed Rickey Rodgers Frizzell (who would be followed by a second son, Marlon Jaray Frizzell) to the family.

Lefty’s sexcapades were punctuated by other reckless incidents, such as driving into a man’s fence. The man turned out to be a judge who, you guessed it, presided in the case against Frizzell.

With all of the drama in his life, Lefty was also a prankster who had unique mannerisms, especially when telling a joke.

Frizzell helped not only Merle Haggard and Freddie Hart, but he has remained the gold standard for country singers who have copied his unique singing style.

The only artist to score four hits in country’s Top Ten at the same time, Lefty quickly learned that if women were going to tear at his fringed clothes a solution was needed. As a result, David writes, “Detachable fringe was one of his innovations.”

And, once Lefty could afford a Nudie suit and wore it, his performance marked “the first time rhinestones were used on a country star’s clothing.”

One of the stars of TV’s California-based Town Hall Party, Lefty earned a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame “just below Michael Jackson’s.”

Given his early stardom without the business acumen to match, Lefty signed some horrendous business contracts. Frizzell would eventually catch on, but as soon as he got out of one bad contract he’d sign another: One management contract was reminiscent of Elvis Presley’s pact with “Colonel” Tom Parker in that Lefty was paying Jack Starnes a 50% commission!

Starnes was able to secure Lefty a booking on The Perry Como Show, but that didn’t stop Frizzell, while trying to get out of his management contract with Jack, from publicly humiliating Starnes in an incident David details in I Love You A Thousand Ways.

No stranger to litigation, Frizzell should not have been surprised when Starnes filed an injunction against him. (Eventually an out-of-court settlement was reached.)

No sooner did Lefty sign a management contract with industry veteran J.D. Miller than Frizzell became increasingly unmanageable.

By then Lefty’s drinking was uncontrollable (David describes one such incident that resulted in Lefty throwing Don Gibson against a wall, dislodging Gibson’s toupee!) and he would show up late at his personal appearances- if at all.

In the twilight of his career, while touring Vietnam with his daughter, Lois (another of the Frizzells who, like her brother, Marlon and uncles David and Allen, gave rise to the clan’s entertainment dynasty) Lefty escaped gunfire that was too close for comfort.

Long before Willie Nelson, Frizzell had problems with the IRS. Though, blessed with a strong work ethic, Lefty would work a four-month tour to pay off his debts.

Frizzell’s excesses resulted in health problems, one of which necessitated adult circumcision.

Lefty found no comfort in Alice’s suddenly “getting religion” courtesy of Hank Snow’s son, Jimmie. David cites two versions of the story, Lefty’s and Carol Lee Cooper’s (the singer is Snow’s ex-wife), but curiously the reader is not given Jimmie’s account.

And yet- this is the best book I’ve read in 2011! The (abbreviated) Frizzell family tree is a nice touch as is the list of song credits and discography. That said, I hope the paperback version will correct some of the indexed page omission as well as properly identify one of the women captioned in a photograph as a (now former) “representative of the Country Music Hall of Fame” as Diana Johnson.

The paperback should also correct the misspelling of Wollensak (as in the famous tape recorder) and Drake Motel. Max Baer’s name should also be correctly spelled ad I’m reasonably sure Ronnie McDowell and Jimmie Snow would appreciate the correct spelling of their first names and that Summer Harman would likewise prefer that her surname be correctly spelled.

There's another Frizzell book that David might consider writing: It would be one about his and Allen's careers, Allen's marriage to (and Allen's divorce from) David's duet partner, Shelly West, Lois' tragic death in 2004, and Rickey's unconventional lifestyle.

The Oak Ridge Boys’ Joe Bonsall is an established author with the publication of G.I. Joe and Lillie (a well-received tribute to his parents) and the Molly children’s books stories. Bonsall’s latest book, From My Perspective, is yet another side of Joe; that of an animal-loving, working grandfather and baseball fan who landed his first job at age 9.

A self-described “street hoodlum” who became the “president of my high school Bible club,” provides a series of essays allowing the reader to decide whether the singer is what Kris Kristofferson might call a “walking contradiction” or a dreamer who, as he grows older, attains the next level of maturity.

Readers old enough to remember the cultural impact of American Bandstand know that Joe’s dreams could easily have peaked with the few times the Philly-born teen danced on the program.

Instead, Joe aged out of both the show and his “Elvis fixation,” stumbling, to be sure, in the early days of Bonsall’s own musical career, but ultimately overcoming excess in a way that just wasn’t in the cards for Presley.

In these pages, sushi-lovin’ Joe climbs aboard the Taylor Swift bandwagon, reaffirms his love for Dottie Rambo, Johnny Cash and June Carter, spotlights the Thursday Night Pickin’ Circle (a slice of small town America) and remembers his reaction to William Lee Golden’s breaking the news to him of the Oaks’ induction into the Gospel Music Hall of Fame.

Bonsall’s eclectic narrative features everything from his poetry to a recipe for Uncle Luther’s Stuffin’’ when he is not otherwise documenting his interest in bluegrass music in general, and playing banjo in particular, or sharing stories of family, friends and evangelical Christian beliefs that first resonated with him at age 15.

A former asthmatic, Joe has penned what amounts to a publicly-available diary that connects the dots between Bonsall’s religious zeal and his concept of morality that, in turn, fuels his political opinions.

With a foreword by Chuck Yeager, blurbs of praise from “Bush 39”, Bill Gaither, Michael W. Smith, Jamie Dailey, Dana Williams and fellow Oak Duane Allen, it is clear that Bonsall, for all of his candor, manages to keep his friends close. Readers, even those who may never have the opportunity to meet Joe, will finish this book feeling, with his openness, that Bonsall keeps them even closer.

Neal McCoy turns author with a short (168 pages) paperback, its title inspired by the song of the same name (included as a free download with the purchase of the book!).

McCoy supplies his own introduction to these personal profiles of the “heroes I’ve met and the mountains they climb every day,” be those mountains literally large landforms or some of life’s greatest metaphorical challenges.

Neal McCoy, long an admirer or Retired General Tommy Franks, writes of a “hush-hush” USO tour of Afghanistan and facing down the inherent danger of planning and providing entertainment in war zones. We also learn why Franks’ father was a hero to his son.

A chapter on Mickey Gilley’s slow recovery from spinal injuries that threatened to leave Gilley paralyzed after he had already endured heart surgery and botched facial surgery will be of special interest to country-music fans.

A must for Neal McCoy fans, this book is as uplifting as its author's perennial sunny disposition and a great pick-me-up for anyone whose spirits can use a lift.

When choosing a title for his 2010 Judy Canova biography, Ben Ohmart could have gone with the title of an autobiography Canova was rumored to have been writing in 1946: There’s a Punch in Judy. But Ben, who obtained the help of Judy’s daughters, Julieta and Diana Canova, that allowed him to make his labor of love a reality, took his inspiration from a documented event of the time: the 1946 release of Canova’s movie, Singin’ in the Corn.

Readers benefit from Ohmart's access to, and cooperation from, Judy's daughters, as well as his attention to detail. (Check out his documentation of Canova's multimedia credits and the photos from the Canova family's personal collection, including rare photos published here for the first time.)

The hillbilly yodeler and pig-tailed comedienne's musical comedy first evinced itself on stage. Judy parlayed her talent into appearances on radio, in films and, despite her initial skepticism about the medium, even on television

For those with short memories, or those born after Judy's death who might require a reminder of Canova’s importance to the world of entertainment, consider this: At a time when such kudos were merit-based, Judy received two stars (one for radio, another for film) on the Hollywood Walk of Fame!

Born in Starke, Florida, Judy’s big radio break came in a 1933 broadcast of the Fleischmann’s Yeast Hour. (Separating fact from myth, Ohmart reveals Canova’s correct birth date, while debunking another commonly-held notion as he makes it clear that Unadilla, Georgia was NOT Judy’s hometown. )

Canova first played the rube as part of a sibling act, but, of the siblings, only Judy was given the opportunity to take her career to the next level. When the group disbanded, Judy’s movie career took off, courtesy of Republic Studios.

While Canova starred in several successful films, Columbia Pictures’ Louisiana Hayride, released in 1944, (also starring a pre-Sea Hunt Lloyd Bridges) is probably the one best-remembered by country-music fans.

During a career spanning several decades, Judy worked with show business’ Who’s Who: Rudy Vallée, Bob Hope, Rosemary Clooney, Eddie Foy, Jr., Joe E. Brown, Mel Blanc, Jerry Colonna, Hans Conried, Victor Borge, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Benny Goodman, Don Ameche and Ken Curtis.

Canova’s professional success far surpassed her matrimonial acumen. While Ben’s research suggests that there is no evidence of a rumored secret 1936 marriage to Bob “Bazooka” Burns, Ohmart notes that, in anticipation of the annulment of her brief 1941 marriage to James Ripley, an AWOL Army corporal, Judy entered the courtroom dressed entirely in black!

Given Canova’s weakness for men in uniform, it’s not surprising that Judy became a wartime bride. Shortly after her marriage to Chester England (winner of a Bronze Star) Judy gave birth to the couple’s only child, Julieta (nicknamed Tweeny). The Englands’ marriage was dissolved by mutual agreement. England sought the divorce, but Judy did not contest Chet’s decision for “England’s sarcasm made her too nervous to work”

If there was any humor in the split it was that the divorce became final on Valentine’s Day, 1949.

The actress Diana Canova was the product of Judy’s postwar “secret” marriage (Ben Ohmart explains the rationale) to wealthy Cuban importer Phillip Rivero (the son of President Fulgencio Batista’s personal physician).

The star of a radio series bearing her name, Judy began making records during the late ‘40s, continuing to expand her career by playing the fair circuit circa 1950. (During the summer of 1949, a British producer wanted to cast Canova in a production called Hillbilly in London. Judy expressed some interest, but her focus was on establishing an Academy of Radio Arts and Sciences that would have recognized radio artists with awards, thus delaying television’s emergence at a threat to radio’s hold on its audience.)

However, even Jimmy Durante’s support for the venture wasn’t enough to keep it from inevitably becoming a battle lost to progress.

At that point, Canova was hardly averse to television exposure. She and Tweeny appeared on The Mickey Mouse Club and Judy lined up an impressive list of credits ranging from Make Room for Daddy to Alfred Hitchcock Presents.

Judy’s hobbies included collecting cookbooks and 18^th century fans. Her fans collection included one that belonged to Dolly Madison. She was also interested in astrology, psychic phenomena and handwriting analysis.

Canova never completely recovered from respiratory problems she developed in 1968. Her hillbilly persona was so convincing that, by the 1970s, Judy was feeling frustrated that the roles she was being offered- and accepted- did not allow her to break away from hick typecasting. Juliette Canova (as she the entertainer was christened) loved to remind those who couldn’t see the real her of a famous observer who could proclaimed that the comedienne was “about as hillbilly as the Duchess of Windsor.”

By 1970, asthmatic and having developed emphysema, Judy had begun her descent into alcoholism. She was not pleased with the character her daughter, Diana played on Soap, nor, for that matter, that popular tastes had changed in ways that lessened the demand for the kind of of comedy that made Judy famous. Where Judy had once worked with Danny Thomas, as of 1980 the star of Make Room for Daddy was co-starring with Diana Canova in I’m a Big Girl Now. In fact, the only joint TV appearance Judy and Diana made was on a segment of Dinah! (Dinah Shore devoted a 1978 segment of her daytime TV talk show to show business’ mothers and daughters. Judy and Diana performed The Wabash Cannonball as a duet on the program.)

Diagnosed with lung cancer in 1983, Judy died August 5^th of that year, leaving the bulk of her nearly half-million dollar estate to her daughters. Canova’s body was cremated with her remains interred at Forest Lawn. The inscription on Judy’s grave reads “Love and Laughter.”

Following the critical success of her first book, Goodbye Little Rock and Roller, multi-talented Marshall Chapman turns the spotlight on her fellow musicians and singer/songwriters.

Devoting a chapter to each of her 15 subjects, the self-proclaimed Amazon Rocker Authoress establishes how she came to meet Miranda Lambert, Bobby Braddock, Terri Clark, Eddie Angel and the rest. (Not all of these meetings are as consequential, as say, the one Chapman references in her Prologue: Marshall’s hair caught fire the evening she met Billy Joe Shaver. The 1971 encounter serves as the inspiration for They Came to Nashville, though Shaver is not among Chapman’s 15 interview subjects.)

The simple formula is complete when Marshall, having established common ground with her subjects, essentially asks each “What brought you to Nashville?” And “What were the experiences you had in Music City that shaped you and brought you to everyone else’s attention?

If her Shaver anecdote hasn’t already ignited the reader’s interest in the chapters to follow, Marshall’s hardback catches fire as she devotes her opening chapter to her reunion with Kris Kristofferson. While Kristofferson’s saga is already pretty well-known, Chapman breaks enough new ground to beg the question of whether Marshall’s admitted crush was more open than usual in otherwise silent response to Stephen Miller’s 2008 unauthorized biography, Kris Kristofferson: The Wild American. (Who knew that Billy Sherrill- not Fred Foster- was the first producer to express an interest in recording Kris?)

If so, one wonders what Kristofferson is saving, if anything, for his long-promised autobiography. (Full disclosure: Stephen interviewed me for his book and I am credited for my contributions in Miller’s acknowledgments.)

Marshall’s musing captures Kris’ charismatic sex appeal for those, unlike she and I, who have not had the pleasure of meeting Kristofferson in a way I have never before seen articulated. But, as Kris was only a few months away from his 74^th birthday on January 27, 2010, the day he posed with Marshall for the only photo of him in Chapman’s book, perhaps a photo of the silver-tongued devil in his more “hunky” days could be added when the paperback is issued. (Still, what with budget cuts limiting the number of collaborative projects between Vanderbilt University Press and the Country Music Foundation, readers should be grateful not only that the Vandy alum’s second book has seen publication, but that her editors allowed for the reproduction of the January 28, 1976 (Chapman’s first night in Nashville) Grand Ole Opry lineup in Marshall’s Kristofferson chapter.

Other highlights? Tammy Wynette fans may wince when reading the Mary Gauthier chapter in which Gauthier recalls “going to a Halloween party and my costume was ‘Tammy after the Kidnapping.’ Some people in Nashville didn’t think that was funny.”

Whether guffaws were sparked or not, perhaps it isn’t so surprising that when Mary and Marshall got together there were some equally macabre Harlan Howard stories.

The Rodney Crowell chapter stems from a period when Crowell and Chapman were both working at T.G.I.Friday’s on Elliston Place. Neither worked there for long, but apparently long enough for Chapman to fail to recognize Irving Waugh whom, to the consternation of the aristocratic-appearing WSM Radio, TV and music industry giant and those in his party, she treated like just another customer.

Readers will be amused by Rodney’s account of wrecking the car his father-in-law-to-be, Johnny Cash, lent him. And I’m a little puzzled by the reference in the Crowell chapter to Bishop’s Pub. I believe that bit of local color referenced (along with references, sprinkled throughout Chapman’s book, to such other popular Nashville music industry hangouts of yesteryear as the Spence Manor, Bogey’s and the Cockeyed Camel) was more commonly known as Bishop’s Corner.

Similarly, the Emmylou Harris and Bobby Bare chapters are notable for gaps in Marshall’s knowledge: When Emmylou mentioned Taffy and Bill Danoff in passing it was clear that Chapman, evidently not the biggest of John Denver fans, let alone a Starland Vocal Band aficionado, had no idea who they are! And when Bobby Bare related his well-worn Bill Parsons/“The All-American Boy” story to the refugee from her upper-class roots, it was clear Marshall was hearing it for the first time!

From Don Henry readers learn of Henry’s crush on Tanya Tucker. While, in the John Hiatt chapter, they learn that Kristofferson isn’t Chapman’s only crush: Hiatt, another object of Chapman’s affection, reveals that he turned down a potential opportunity to be mentored by Bobby Goldsboro because John “couldn’t get past (the hair.)”

A chapter on Ashley Cleveland raises the specter of Joan Baez eagerly raking leaves in Cleveland’s backyard!

In the Gary Nicholson chapter, Nicholson reminisces about the time when “Jim Ed Norman had just bought a house on Richland Avenue, and as part of my publishing draw, I was allowed to live there with my family.”

Marshall’s Beth Nielsen-Chapman chapter is notable for Beth’s description of her “Play-Doh” period, following a time when Nielsen-Chapman learned a hard lesson one would hope every songwriter would be spared.

Chapman’s attempt to land an interview with Willie Nelson is both suspenseful and amusing, though I suspect that book marketers will play up an equally successful, though far less interesting, effort to land Miranda Lambert’s participation in the project.

I've loved Marshall Chapman's work since I first heard Betty's Bein' Bad and They Came to Nashville is merely the latest example of what will rank as Chapman's contribution to the preservation of the vast and colorful history of Music Row and the personalities who have dominated its culture.

The author begins by asking readers to “imagine” what it’s like, having completed high school and “a two year stint in the Navy, not knowing what to do with your life, and getting a phone call asking if you’d like to be the tour manager for Bon Jovi.”

If the reader’s emotions are sufficiently manipulated to be envious of the job Rich Bozzett was offered- and accepted- on September 24, 1983, s/he is brought back to reality before the opening paragraph’s end with Bozzett’s observation that, on the first day of what turned out to be a six-year gig, Rich, then Pat Travers’ valet, “didn’t know who Bon Jovi was- and neither did anyone else except for Doc McGhee and Derek Schulman." (The former was “an up-and-coming band manager,” while the latter was a Polygram A & R exec who had just signed John Bongiovi- apparently by that time professionally known as Jon Bon Jovi- to a record contract after the band’s lead singer won a local radio contest)

Rich does a good job of reminding the reader of the obvious perks, and detailing the not-always-so-obvious headaches and responsibilities, of a road manager’s job. He offers several interesting band stats, such as the revelation that Bon Jovi’s management company pocketed 20 per cent of each of the group’s records, tickets and merchandise sales at a time when “anyone could pick up the phone and book Bon Jovi for $180-$250 a night. Today you’d be hard-pressed to by a ticket for that price.”

At a time when “we were all put on a salary of $250 per week,” the group hired seemingly unaffordable marketing experts who conducted focus groups that took the band to the proverbial “next level.” (That goal achieved, the amounts and percentages, no longer equal, changed dramatically with Jon raking in the lion’s share, much to Bozzett’s growing consternation.)

Along the way there were mentors (The Scorpions, Gene Simmons) and obstacles (union rules, fears of drugs being planted, legitimate fears of drug busts, body cavity searches, Rich’s arrest on a cocaine trafficking charge).

Readers learn Jon and the band’s aliases (used for registration at the hotels they might, amid the boredom of downtime, trash), practical jokes and other hijinks (Rich’s scrambling to get meds to treat Jon’s case of the crabs- while on tour in Japan).

By 1985 the band was racking up millions of dollars in expenses “that had to be paid back before the band saw a nickel.”

But the big time also brought opportunities to mingle with some of the biggest names in the business. In a book full of behind-the-scenes photos of the band, a couple of photos reproduced here also of interest are one of Rich and the band with Michael Jackson and Jackson’s manager, Frank Dileo and another of Glen Campbell with David Lee Roth.

Also illustrating and breaking up the breezy 158 pages of text are a typical band rider, drinks placement on stage schematic, band catering specs, DOT license/permit for explosives and hand-written radio station liners

While country fans might miss any mention here of Jon’s professional pairing with Jennifer Nettles- their duet followed Bozzett’s Bon Jovi employment-- Rich does touch on the group’s playing Willie Nelson’s Farm Aid in 1985. Oddly enough, it was the next day that the now infamous photo session- driving the tabloid interest in this book- occurred.

For the uninitiated these are graphic, often orgiastic publicity shots of Jon, the band and young ladies, all in various stages of undress. “Some were group shots, some with just Jon- including topless and bottomless photos, with a lot of ‘action’ taking place.”

Needless to say, when cooler heads prevailed these photos, seem by the public for the first time in these pages, were deemed to be unusable for publicity purposes. Within the next two years Bon Jovi’s star rose to the point where the photos, now a potential source of bad publicity in general and blackmail in particular, had to be confiscated. An effort to quietly retrieve the photos was thwarted when ‘the photographer mysteriously died.’

By the time the author was able to track down photo negatives and assorted photos and was about to inform the band, Rich realized that he was about to be “thrown under the bus… discarded like Kleenex… dumped like yesterday’s garbage.”

Bozzett thought he could use leverage the photos provided to keep his dream job, but, due to a misunderstanding he explains here, that didn’t happen.

Actually, several pink slips went out when the band was convinced that other extended members of its “family” could be replaced by “cheap labor.” As a result, Rich writes, when a friend tried to convey the message that Bon Jovi guitar tech Barry Ambrosio was diagnosed with cancer there was a “high probability no one in the band even got the message and Barry died feeling abandoned.”

On February 9, 1989 Bozzett didn’t only lose his job with Bon Jovi, he claims to have lost a promised five per cent stake in the group. To make matters worse, by that time “I lost my fiancée over the band.”

Observing that “I find it strangely hypocritical to see how big stars adopt charitable efforts as a tax shelter or public relations ploy, yet fail to think charitably about their own people,” Rich is donating 50 per cent of his Sex, Drugs and Bon Jovi profits to the Unsung Heroes Foundation (unsungheroesfoundation.net); an organization he’s established, currently without tax-deduction benefits for contributors, to help tour managers and other band crew members to access drug rehabilitation, a fair pension and retirement funds.

Subtitled How I Ditched The South, Forgot My Manners, and Managed to Survive My Twenties With (Most of) My Dignity Still Intact, Just Don’t Call Me Ma’am is Anna Mitchael’s paperback diary of a young woman’s road to self-discovery.

For instance, the author discovers after assorted adventures that, at age 29, “I’m finally ready to admit it: I’m just not that cool.” Her admission comes after concluding that “being a bridesmaid in a Texas wedding is a little like being a groupie for a famous rock band.”

Mitchael dedicates her cheeky memoir to her mother. And while Grandma is listed in the acknowledgments, Rush Limbaugh is not. This leads the reader to one of the few questions about the author that Anna does not disclose in her book: While readers might expect that Mitchael and Limbaugh, were they to meet at the EIB Network, might share a laugh over yet another acronym (RAWLF, an “Annaism” best explained in this book), would they really hit if off?

After all, Mitchael writes, now having turned 30 and all (but still refusing to answer to “Ma’am), the fact remains that I hate the word ‘Feminazi.’” This, even though Limbaugh and his (other?) fans will take comfort in the fact that Anna believes “Not all men are heartless, insensitive bastards."

“I’m not telling this story in any kind of order… but I feel that’s OK and perhaps even makes the story better.”

That’s Jim Reeves’ biographer Joyce Gray Jackson’s explanation for her approach to biography with an emphasis on the brief time she spent in Gentleman Jim’s employ as well as the three decades she spent assisting Reeves’ widow, Mary in administering the business of Jim Reeves Enterprises.

Of her book’s 199 pages, only about 15% are devoted to Joyce’s time with Jim. During that period, however, the inspiration for Justin Tubb’s hit, Take A Letter, Miss Gray met many, if not most, of the industry’s execs and performers who populated Music Row from the respective heydays of Kitty Wells and Jeannie Seely (each of whom wrote a foreword for Joyce’s paperback) to say, the beginning of Marty Stuart’s “second career.”

Jackson (who married Jim’s Blue Boy bandsman, Leo Jackson) shares warm memories of her boss. Readers learn that Reeves stood nearly six feet, was a pretty good golfer and dyed his hair (not always successfully, as Jim, hardly the master of that particular technique, discovered on one occasion when his hair turned orange!).

Within these pages Joyce maintains a (former) staffer’s loyalty to her boss. An example of this occurs when she refuses to transition from the “orange hair” story to any toupé tales, perhaps in deference to Mary’s refusal to publicly acknowledge that Jim wore a rug for years (as far back as Jim’s 1953 Grand Ole Opry debut appearance according to Charlie Lamb, Reeves’ manager at the time). Reportedly, Jim’s widow tried to suppress this disclosure long after her husband’ death to the point of suing an overseas publication for reporting it.

The vintage photos Joyce includes in these pages- not just of the Reeves' and their associates, but a galaxy of stars Jackson has either met, or wishes she had met- are alone worth the price of this book. (Joyce, a published songwriter- a story in itself, which she also relates- and poet, displays an unabashed knack for positioning herself, whether it be playing canasta with Dottie West, poker with Doyle Wilburn, attending acting classes with Bobby Bare’s wife, Jeannie, or managing to meet Bob Hope and Marlon Brando. The well-connected 2009 SOURCE Foundation Award honoree’s ability to network has been enhanced by the fact that, in addition to the many industry types she met during her time with Jim Reeves Enterprises, Joyce is also veteran musician Stu Basore’s sister-in-law.)

Joyce’s tone ranges from adoring to candid. She is both when writing of Eddy Arnold, noting that, despite her love for Arnold, she is skeptical of historical accounts that indicate Eddy was part of a search party that found Jim Reeves’ body. Joyce, who details Reeves’ final day, disputes other accounts of the chronology of Reeves’ final hours, suggesting, in the instance Arnold’s alleged role that she doesn’t see how that could be possible nor that Eddy identified Jim's body for Joyce insists she was the one who officially id'ed her boss' remains. (Jackson doesn't explain why she apparently never broached the subject with Arnold.).

The author is not Reeves’ first biographer and, citing a forthcoming book by Larry Jordan, Joyce acknowledges that she will not be the last. Perhaps for those reasons, or perhaps because her recollections are already being disputed, a couple of the earliest reflections found here are a tad defensive.

Should this book be updated or otherwise reissued, I hope that version will include an index. And for the benefit of those who don’t recognize names like Ann Tant, Clarence Selman and a few other publishing/industry types, a revised version would provide an opportunity to properly identify these folks as Jackson has taken pains to do with others.

Finally, an update presents an opportunity to correct the spelling of Mel McDaniel’s surname and the name of the Wilburn Brothers’ hit, “Roll Muddy River.”

For some reason this year everyone who remembered my birthday chose to acknowledge it before the actual date. I couldn’t figure that out, since that's never happened before. But considering that I spent my birthday sick as a dog- with laryngitis, a sore throat, a smoker's cough (I don't smoke) and a cold- what proved to cheer me up and otherwise make my day was the arrival of Bill Anderson’s latest CD (see my review here) and a copy of Bill’s latest book thoughtfully inscribed to his “longtime friend.”

Anderson didn’t even know it was my birthday, but my joy at receiving his presents was increased by his mention in the book of our mutual friend, Betty Parrish.

A man blessed with many friends, Bill reserves the dedication of his latest work for his late fan club president of a quarter-century, Jean Brown. Fortunately, Anderson thought to praise Brown when she was alive, so neither the kudos nor the obvious justification should surprise anyone who knew Jean or has followed Bill’s career.

As a teen Bill Anderson wanted to collect every Hank Williams recording his musical hero ever made.. This prompted Bill to write a letter to Hank requesting a list. No discography was forthcoming, let alone a response of any kind, angering Bill to the point where Anderson gathered up all of his 78 r.p.m. Hank Williams recordings, including those Williams released as Hank the Drifter, and traded them to a schoolmate for some zany Spike Jones records.

When Bill began making records he remembered his disappointment, vowing to try to answer every fan letter he received.

When James William Anderson, Jr. died in the autumn of 2003, and his namesake received over 3,000 expressions of sympathy from Bill Anderson fans all over the world, Bill realized he could no longer keep up with his own expectations. Wanting to maintain his high standards but also find a realistic alternative to corresponding at a rate that would leave him no time to write songs and books, to travel, perform and to have a personal life, on October 15, 2003 Bill logged onto billanderson.com and wrote the first of what has become hundreds of letters to his fans.

As these letters accumulated, they documented Bill’s personal and professional accomplishments of the day in diary form.

The enterprising entertainer then decided to share his bounty by essentially bundling his many letters, printing them out and present them in bound form as a sort of love letter to his fans.

Thus we have Letters to My Fans: Volume One 2003-2006. Within its 154 pages, Letters… provides a window into what it is like to be and to interact with Bill Anderson on a day-to-day basis (i.e., from mid-October 2003 to November 27, 2006). Bill shares his memories and professional accomplishments and a bit of the information his most ardent fans presumably crave about his personal life. The latter, a mixture of happy and sad events- with some funny and thought-provoking asides thrown in for good measure- range from Bill settling into his role as grandfather (experiencing through his children’s growing families the miracle of birth, expanding his prior frame of reference limited to his perspective as a dad, to coping with family members' illness and the loss of Anderson's beloved parents and sister, Bill's only sibling; three close family members- in less than five years).

Readers learn the values and lessons Bill deems important along with what he holds dear (including at least one I"d like to respectfully argue with him).

I learned that Anderson's professional association with game shows dates back to a 1965 episode of CBS-TV’s To Tell The Truth. (When GSN reran the episode in December, 2007, a new generation of viewers learned that Bill, who stumped two of the four panelists who thought one of two impostors was the real singer/songwriter, in an affidavit described his calling card as “hillbilly” music.)

I also learned that Bill was the first country artist ever to appear on The Mike Douglas Show.

Anderson seems always to be thinking ahead to his next project, so it is no accident that the title of Letters… hints at volumes to come. Anderson is only committing to a second volume at this point, but if the next one is as much of a page-turner as this one (think of a chatty, newsy, well-written Christmas letter updated and sent regularly, rather than on an annual basis) Bill will have expanded his already impressive fan base exponentially.

Michael Streissguth has taken on a Herculean task as, in the suggestion of Always Been There’s subtitle; namely becoming Rosanne Cash’s semi-authorized biographer, giving readers the complete scoop on the ins and outs of what, by now, is known in CD and book form as “The List.” Michael also supplies the narrative for how a Memphis-born California girl epitomizes “the Spirit of Southern Music” Or not...

Streissguth somehow manages to accomplish his task in a little over 200 pages. For those who have never had the privilege of interviewing Rosanne, as Michael and I have, Always Been There is the next best thing to pulling up a chair.

An unabashed fan, Michael picks and chooses how far he wants to pursue certain aspect of Rosanne’s life. The singer's fairly-recent health issues are fair game, but the reason(s) for Cash’s divorce from Rodney Crowell are never really addressed, though the reader is to infer that there was something rather unhealthy about mixing the business of the Cash-Crowell professional relationship with the roles of spouse and parent..

Yet this can’t be right- else why would Cash set herself up for history repeating itself by marrying John Leventhal?

After reading Michael’s book I understand, for the first time, Rosanne’s genuine love and respect for June Carter. Who knew that Rosanne’s mother, Vivian was something much less than “a rock” of stability when married to, and once divorced from, Johnny Cash?

I’ll be very interested in Vivian’s biographer, Ann Sharpsteen’s reaction to Streissguth’s depiction of Vivian and Johnny as well, since Michael quotes Rosanne as saying that Vivian “was overwhelmed by her feelings… She made decisions that should have been made out of rational thought, out of emotional feeling. She chose a lawyer because he was nice. She [later] chose the person to cowrite her book [I Walk the Line, 2007], because she was deferential.”

Michael, a tad deferential as he portrays himself with respect to Rosanne, couldn’t keep Cash from blowing up at him after posing what Streissguth regards as an innocuous question. This brings to mind an incident not mentioned in Michael’s book, but one Rosanne related me to several years ago. It concerns a Tennessean reporter who called Cash requesting an interview for a September, 1984 Tennessean series about drug-addicted country stars. Rosanne’s substance abuse problems, while whispered about in industry circles, were not then known to the general public.

Cash told me then that she informed Susan Thomas, in an “off-the-record” phone conversation, that Rosanne was trying to come to grips with her problems privately and that the reporter then ignored journalistic ethics, took the information Cash had confided to her “and proceeded to turn it into an interview.”

The reporter’s version of what went down was quite different. But Rosanne, as Streissguth’s interaction with her confirms, is nothing but at home in her own skin.

Let’s start with the basics: As this book’s subtitle indicates, the paperback is not, as its title might otherwise suggest, say, Jerry Lee Lewis’ autobiography.

Rather, as writing coach, editor and author Jill Dearman explains in these pages, Bang… is Dearman’s acronym for a series of thought processes/exercises that will inspire any writer to overcome obstacles to that moment of clarity when the prose seems to flow as easily and plentifully as water through a clogless spigot.

From minimizing distractions to preventing writer’s block, Jill’s writers’ workshop in book form features chapters that teach her B(egin with your strongest idea), A(rrange your material into a concrete form), N(urture your project with love so that others may love it, too), G(o. Let it go so it may live independently in the world) process

Whether one is writing song lyrics, a short story, scholarly essay, nonfiction book, or screenplay, Dearman’s timeless tools are sure to encourage even the most procrastinating of scribes.

In her introduction to this, the latest in a series of TIME’s Great Discoveries series of coffee-table books, Kelly Knauer notes that “The book you are holding in your hands is already out of date,” regardless of the date of purchase, because in the modern world “the dynamics of discovery moves so quickly that… the facts cited in these pages [are]… very likely to be superseded by new findings” or “challenged by new arguments.”

To break it down, Knauer’s argument references a photo on the opposite page of a female figurine, sculpted around 33,000 B.C. One of the earliest of its kind ever found, the figurine’s “existence was known to only a few researchers when our editorial team began working on this book, early in 2009. (The figurine was discovered in Germany during September, 2008 but not revealed to the rest of the world until May 2009.)

No matter. As the authors point out, “History is found in stone. Not set in stone.” And while these histories may have to be revised, the beautiful photographs of discoveries all over the world are simply breath-taking.

Sections of the book focus upon familiar subjects (probing Titanic’s Demise, Lewis & Clark’s adventures, and so forth) and lesser-known explorations of man and animals and the mysteries of the solar system.

Most amazingly, the objective is accomplished in only 135 pages. (138 pages should one count a superb index to which readers will want to refer as they show this book off to guests.)

Back in 1961, when I was in elementary school, one of my favorite books was Bruce Lee’s JFK: Boyhood to White House.

Thoughts of that children’s book came to mind when I received a copy of TIME For Kids’ new oversized paperback, the latest in its series of children’s books on America’s presidents, dating back several years. President Obama: A Day in the Live of America’s Leader

As with its previous publications about White House occupants, TIME’s instructive oversized paperback is apolitical in tone.

Suitable for children of all ages (from those not yet old enough to read- but who are old enough to appreciate beautiful illustrations and photography, to those of us who retain a child’s curiosity about the inner workings of the White House), this book begins with a biographical sketch of President Obama detailing his road to the White House (replete with learning opportunities for kiddies for whom this book may be the first time they have read the word caucus and have had the word and process defined in the form of an understandable explanation.)

Next come captioned photos of all of America’s presidents, indicating the years they served.

This is followed by an abbreviated geographical tour of our nation’s capital and a White House tour.

Children then learn what the President’s typical day is like as well as given an opportunity to identify with Malia and Sasha Obama or any of the other children who lived in the White House from Tad Lincoln forward. The tone remains light, as readers are reminded that Tad liked to “dress up in a soldier’s uniform and play war games” but are spared the knowledge that Tad died at 18, probably of tuberculosis.

The unique roles of the First Lady (unofficial) to Air Force One (official) are explored, as are a remarkable number of other presidency-related topics, when one considers that the entire book that is less than 130 pages.

Parents who want to know how much their children have retained after reading this book will encourage their kids to take the short test (13 questions) that appears just ahead of this book’s two-page index.

This, K.J. Fraser’s first novel, was inspired by former President George W. Bush’s 2004 re-election campaign. Indeed, one of Fraser’s highly-developed characters, serves as the fictional, sympathetic Dubya (a guy who wears a Texas Rangers tee-shirt but who is not a “Bush imposter”) in this contemporary (post-2008) American tale of healing and self-transformation.

With several strong characters, of different ages, races, goals and circumstances, Fraser maintains the reader’s attention as she takes readers on a journey that concludes with George (the suffering former leader who, after battling zombies, ghosts and his own atrocities, atones and is transformed), Lucy (a 17-year-old Rapture believer, detoured from her mission, but not via reading Harry Potter books which she thinks are “evil”), and Judith (an injured, African-American Iraq war vet) winding up, as K.J.’s story winds down, on the same evening in the same room at the not-accidentally-named Angels Comedy Club.

Subtitled "The Breakthrough Program For Conquering Anxiety, Overcoming Negative Thoughts and Discovering Your True Potential," Dr. Cury’s 224-page hardback doesn’t reinvent the wheel so much as it provides exercises and daily reminders that help readers to focus on concerns of most importance to them.

Whether you want to preserve your sanity, memory or relationships, the psychiatrist, psychotherapist, scientist and best-selling author provides not only tips on how to make these things happen, but also case-study examples that encourage the can-do spirit.

The good doctor, who calls Brazil home, has some arguable references. (Describing Sigmund Freud as an “atheistic Jew,” regardless of Freud’s self-description, suggests the author lacks an awareness of the contradiction in terms)

Still, this book’s extensive bibliography and helpful index drive serve further to bolster the author’s message which is an important one for anyone whose goals include self-actualization.

Those who have read my review of Jay Warner’s American Singing Groups know what a big fan I am of Warner’s writing.

Jay’s latest paperback, Notable Moments of Women in Music, uses the “this day in history” calendar approach to highlighting women’s contribution to music dating back to the June 1, 1873 birthday of Ada Jones. The continuum ends with the April 15, 2008 Sony Pictures release of “the eventual horror cult-classic film, Zombie Strippers, starring the outrageous British punk rocker Roxy Saint.”

In between is a Foreword by Melissa Etheridge and enough content to challenge even the most informed trivia experts.

Fans of Tanya Tucker, Alison Krauss, Patty Loveless, Rosanne Cash, (Note: Warner misspells Krauss’, Loveless’ and Cash’s first names), Mary Chapin-Carpenter (Jay favors a misplaced, albeit optional, dash), Shania Twain, Dolly Parton, Brenda Lee, Carrie Underwood, The Dixie Chicks, The Carter Family, Kathy Mattea, Lorrie Morgan, The Forester Sisters, Trisha Yearwood, Wynonna, LeAnn Rimes, Reba McEntire, K. T. Oslin, Emmylou Harris, Nanci Griffith, Michelle Wright, Dale Evans and Patsy Cline will be especially eager to read the factoids, quotes from and/or mention of these artists.

There’s a lot of interesting information and several eye-catching photographs packed into this 437+ page reference. It will make a great Christmas present for your favorite music trivia buff.

This paperback is a revised and expanded edition of Randy Poe's 2006 Duane Allman biography, Skydog.

With a forward by ZZ Top’s Billy Gibbons, Poe, an Allman fan since age 9, sets the tone for an engaging portrait of the late southern rocker.

Though memories dim, Duane’s life (which ended in 1971, just before his 25th birthday) is documented not only by his own observances, but also through Randy’s extensive research- there’s a chapter on Duane’s guitars alone!- including interviews, other books on music and musicians of the Allman Brothers Band era, various sound and video recordings, etc.

Still, as Jerry Jemmott told Randy, “Everybody wants to put their spin on the story so they can have a little piece of the legacy.”

That said, if Randy has left anything of substance unwritten, readers will still want to refer to these pages- with Skydog...'s absorbing accounts and nostalgic photos- in conjunction with a book Gabrielle Allman intends to write about her father. Politely declining Poe’s invitation for an interview, Gabrielle e-mailed Randy, “I believe there is room for many different books about” Duane’s “life and music. So, although I will be focusing on my own project, I wish you the best of luck with yours.”

Reading In the Beginning... There Was the Men’s Room, I got so absorbed in the minutia I wondered how I could possibly review the book as succinctly as Sam Wellington tells this story.

After all, Sam’s story, contrary to its subtitle, is less about the Jets (Wellington’s high school doo-wop quintet), the New Jets or even the earliest configuration(s) of The Four Guys than it is about “their unique journey and eventual transformation from finger-popping, street corner singing to... award-winning Country Music group.”

Consider that if I merely drop all of the names that Sam includes (The Del-Vikings, The Vogues, Mark Dinning, Mitch Miller, Dwayne Hickman, Vic Ames, Johnny Dollar, Mary Lou Turner, Nashville’s notorious Sheriff Fate Thomas, and Bill Tush, to name a few), you’ll want to know the context. I’ll plead lack of space, but Sam puts it all together, providing one of many reasons to buy Wellington’s book.

Like Sam’s first book, So You Want To Be A Country Star, In the Beginning... is an jocular, fast-paced read.

It’s an honest, somewhat autobiographical account of a singer (whose repertoire ranged from doo-wop to barbershop) who left an upwardly-mobile broadcasting career to become a Grand Ole Opry-bound music star of an enduring quartet. (Sam was a radio station manager on his way to becoming a local TV anchor when, as a member of one of the earliest configuration of [Harold] Brent Burkett’s group, The Four Guys, the divorced father elected to join founding Four Guys member, Burkett, Berl Lyons and Rich Garratt. The career change took Wellington from the Ohio Valley area, also encompassing his fellow singer Dean Martin’s hometown of Steubenville, to Nashville on January 1, 1967.)

By the time the Four Guys appeared on the Ernest Tubb Midnight Jamboree, they were well on their way to Grand Ole Opry membership (after only three months in Nashville). Appearing frequently on local TV, The Four Guys were ere veteran performers, having appeared on prestigious venues such as the Wheeling Jamboree.

A welcoming Nashville country-music community included Faron Young. When Opry stage manager Vito Pelletterie introduced the quartet to Faron, Young demanded “Who is this bunch of queers?”

But before the group could react, Faron assured them he was “Just jokin', boys.”

The welcome wore off sooner than expected. The signs were there when the group briefly disbanded, or arguably when the quest for hit records began. For elements of bad luck, amid phenomenal opportunities, were ever-present.

While, like most groups, the Guys had to deal with internecine personality clashes, things didn’t help when “we recorded Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love to Town and were later blown off the charts by Johnny Darrell, who was still later smothered by Kenny Rogers and The First Edition... We were signed to Mercury Records, our first major label, then replaced by The Statler Brothers.” (It was Faron Young who brought the Four Guys to Jerry Kennedy’s attention. Kennedy signed the Guys to Mercury only for the Statlers, who had just left Columbia Records, to join Mercury, to become the label’s priority quartet.)

Remarkably, even when hit records eluded them and they might undermine each other, the Guys remained in demand. Asked to join The Hank Williams, Jr. Touring Road Show, the group remained with Hank for two years, celebrating Williams’ 21st birthday on tour with Bocephus. “We then joined Jimmy Dean in Las Vagas and went on to become a fairly hot commodity there for a time.”

At these points in Sam’s narrative, the reader is rooting for the group, only to learn, for example, that The Four Guys narrowly missed working with Elvis Presley in Las Vegas when “a rift between two entertainment directors squelched the opportunity.”

Then, impressed with the group’s Vegas performances, Ed Sullivan scheduled them for five appearances which, in turn, netted them another major-label recording contract. The network TV appearances were not to be and the recording contract sparked by the bookings on "the really big shoe" fizzled when, after 22 years on the air, Sullivan’s show was canceled.

Then, due to a misunderstanding, United Artists Records’ head honcho Scotty Turner failed to get The Four Guys to record Yesterday When I Was Young, giving Roy Clark the signature song.

Rich Garratt wrote a “Streakin’” song for The Four Guys, only to be usurped by Ray Stevens, who also knows little bit about the latest fad’s potential to spawn a nationwide novelty hit.

But there was always enough success to keep the group thriving when it was not otherwise touring with Charley Pride, winning awards, performing as one of Opryland Park’s most popular draws, or operating its Four Guys Harmony House nightspot.

And perhaps the biggest testament to The Four Guys' achievements is that when group members left- whether they quit or were fired- those with the most longevity seemed to find a way back. (Others, like Dave Rowland, seemed to have brought to The Four Guys the same instability that later characterized Dave & Sugar.)

As Sam tells the story, The Four Guys had a good run, the group’s retirement playing out a little differently than what was reported at the time. The retirement story is one of many stories not listed here found in Wellington's second book

And, on the subject of seconds, a suggestion for the second printing: An index, please.

Also, Sam might want to rethink his characterization of Deana Carter as a “country music personality” (though Carter’s private life may have overshadowed her music) and assessment of Damita Jo. (Am I wrong to question Wellington’s description of Damita Jo as “an American Bandstand favorite?”)

Further, LaWayne Satterfield doubtlessly would appreciate her name appearing as it was given her, while I'm guessing that Billie Jo Spears, Ronny Robbins and Charlie Chase, flattered to see their names in print, would prefer to see the correct spelling of their names.