The world lost Johnny Cash and Warren Zevon in the space of a few short days. Neither death was entirely unexpected, and there are medium-sized mercies in the reliable truths that (a) spouses can apparently still die of broken hearts, despite what the death certificate says, and (b) grandparents can still try to hang on to see their new little grandbabies come into the world. Both of these images are comforting -- and not as darkly comforting as they might first appear. It is a beautiful weekend to rest, putter and play here in New York City. I may take in a low-expectations flick, and I'll certainly get my dear old pooch out for a long overdue trip to the vets. Cheers. I'm adding the text below with a suggestion that you might visit www.johnnycash.com and become even more aware of this Arkansas-born treasure's body of work. Ragged Old Flag I walked through a county courthouse square, On a park bench an old man was sitting there. I said, Your old courthouse is kinda run down. He said, Naw, it'll do for our little town. I said, Your flagpole has leaned a little bit, And that's a ragged old flag you got hanging on it. He said, Have a seat, and I sat down. Is this the first time you've been to our little town? I said, I think it is. He said, I don't like to brag, But we're kinda proud of that ragged old flag. You see, we got a little hole in that flag there When Washington took it across the Delaware. And it got a bad rip in New Orleans With Packingham and Jackson tuggin' at its seams. And it almost fell at the Alamo Beside the Texas flag, but she waved on though. She got cut with a sword at Chancellorsville And she got cut again at Shiloh Hill. There was Robert E. Lee, Beauregard, and Bragg, And the south wind blew hard on that ragged old flag. On Flanders Field in World War I She got a big hole from a Bertha gun. She turned blood red in World War II She hung limp and low a time or two. She was in Korea and Vietnam. She went where she was sent by her Uncle Sam. She waved from our ships upon the briny foam, And now they've about quit waving her back here at home. In her own good land she's been abused -- She's been burned, dishonored, denied and refused. And the government for which she stands Is scandalized throughout the land. And she's getting threadbare and wearing thin, But she's in good shape for the shape she's in. 'Cause she's been through the fire before And I believe she can take a whole lot more. So we raise her up every morning, Take her down every night. We don't let her touch the ground And we fold her up right. On second thought I do like to brag, 'Cause I'm mighty proud of that ragged old flag.