Obituary: Kris Kristofferson

 Singer, songwriter, and sometime actor Kris Kristofferson, 88, passed away yesterday at his home in Hawaii.  Unreal he was that old.  I remember seeing him in person back in 2012, when I received a free ticket from my late sister to attend a concert he gave at the Jacksonville (Oregon) Britt Festival. I had originally had a lawn "seat" in the back, but fortunately, my sister had an extra seat in the reserved are.  I got to see him up close and unobstructed.

Kristofferson, despite his limited singing ability, seemed to be a genuinely nice person who clearly enjoyed performing.  I remember when, before he sang one of his most famous compositions, "Me and Bobby McGee," he talked at length about Janis Joplin, whom he once dated.  He was quite fond of her and it seemed that despite all her troubles (and her own lack of singing talent), she was a nice person.  

More about what I wrote about him here.

As everybody knows, he earned a degree from Pomona College back in the 1950s and went to Oxford on a Rhodes scholarship.  He really was a Renaissance man of note, having written pieces as a very young man that were published in the Atlantic, and he was featured in Sports Illustrated as a college athlete who excelled in rugby, football, and track and field.

You can read the SI article here.

He packed a lot of living already at the age of 21.

Hollywood Reporter:

On track to become a major and offered a position to teach English literature at West Point in 1965, Kristofferson took a two-week leave and headed to Nashville (he arrived while still in uniform). He then resigned from the Army.

While trying to break into the business, Kristofferson flew commercial helicopters and worked as a janitor at Columbia and on oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico, where he penned “Me and Bobby McGee” and “Help Me Make It Through the Night.” The first song that he wrote that was recorded was “Vietnam Blues,” by Dave Dudley in 1966.

As a janitor, Kristofferson had been trying to get Cash to listen to his work, but to no avail. So, in 1969, Kristofferson landed his National Guard helicopter on Cash’s property outside Nashville and emerged with demo tapes for the singer.

Kris had quite a life.

The Tongue Isn't the Only Thing Silver

I received a free ticket to a Britt concert last night featuring that old singer-songwriter and sometime actor Kris Kristofferson, who is older than I thought he was. Pretty scary stuff when you realize how quickly time goes by. Anyway, I got a free ticket because it was through my sister's employer, a big donor to the Britt festivals. She had two, but she couldn't find anybody else willing to go, and she had already paid for a reserve seat. I had a good spot on the lawn while she sat in the reserve area near the stage almost directly in front of Kristofferson.

Because there appeared to be nobody sitting near my sister, whether the seats were not sold in the first place or the people canceled and decided not to go, I went up after the intermission and sat right next to her and therefore got an even better view.

Despite not having the ability to carry a tune, KK gave a good performance. It was just him with his guitar and a harmonica. He didn't need a backup band. KK knows how to hold a crowd's attention despite his obvious vocal shortcomings. While I have mentioned many songwriters should never attempt to sing and leave it to the professionals instead, KK has other qualities that make such quibbling irrelevant. It's mostly because his voice fits his chronological age (76). It also isn't hard on the ears like Bob Dylan's babbling. He is without any kind of pretensions he is a "poet" or popular music icon, so that makes him enjoyable to listen to.

As everybody knows, Kristofferson has a colorful background, including having been Rhodes scholar and had dated Janis Joplin. I can understand the attraction to Joplin, as neither could carry a tune. He mentioned her name when he sang perhaps his most famous tune, "Me and Bobby McGee." This is an interesting Wikipedia entry about it:

Roger Miller was the first artist to have a hit with the song, peaking with it at No. 12 on the US country chart in 1969.

Gordon Lightfoot's version hit No. 13 on the pop chart and No. 1 country in his native Canada in 1970, and was also a top 10 hit in South Africa in 1971. Lightfoot sang the song after a detailed tribute to Kris Kristofferson in a CBC broadcast from the summer 1969 Charlottetown Festival. In his introduction, Lightfoot referred to the Miller version and said he intended to record it himself "the way it should be done."

In a 2008 autobiography, Don Reid and Harold Reid of the Statler Brothers say Kristofferson promised it to them, but when they later inquired about recording it, they learned Miller had already cut the song. The Reids say there were no hard feelings, and were happy about Miller's success with the song. The song was later included on a Statler Brothers album, and was not released as a single.
Janis Joplin also covered the song for inclusion on her Pearl album only a few days before her death in October 1970. Kristofferson had sung the song for Joplin, and singer Bob Neuwirth taught it to her. Kristofferson, however, did not know she had covered it until after her death (the first time he heard it was the day after she died).[2] Joplin's version topped the charts to become her only number one single and only the second posthumous number one single in rock & roll history (the first was "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay" by Otis Redding). In 2004, the Janis Joplin version of this song was ranked No. 148 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.

I think Kristofferson enjoyed performing last night and stuck around for quite a bit after the show was over meeting with people and even signing autographs. It's always great to find something in life you enjoy doing and can be able to make a living at it. Or, in his case, likely not needing the money but doing it just for the enjoyment of it.

A local review here.