Tammy Wynette

1942-1998

by Jim Macnie

Tit for tat is a profound notion, embraced by all who regard the Biblical concept of an eye-for-an-eye as a morally righteous equation. Somewhere in the guts of most Americans, there's a yearning

for the scales to be balanced -- especially the scales of romance. Dollars to donuts says that Tammy Wynette, who died last Monday evening in Nashville at the age of 55, didn't often use the term "quid pro quo" in conversation. But that's one of the ideas she was pushing in her first top 10 hit, "Your Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad." Everyone who heard it understood the implications: you do me wrong, I'll do you wrong, and hopefully that'll make us right. After a long run of men getting the gold mine and women getting the shaft vis-à-vis fidelity, country music fans ate it up.

But the real beauty of "Good Girl" was that it went beyond mere retribution. Part of the reason Tammy was willing to flaunt a newfound nastiness was because she thought her philandering hubby would dig it. You remember: "I'm gonna be the swingingest swinger you've ever had." She'd try out the night life, all right, but she'd do so as a way of regaining domestic tranquility, not upending it. The thrust of her better-known tunes was similar; keeping relationships together was part of Wynette's agenda. "D-I-V-O-R-C-E" lamented the circumstances surrounding its title, and "Stand By Your Man" acknowledged the notion that marriage is a game of give and take. Rather than being the anthem of submission that modern ears attuned to feminism have claimed, it's a confirmation of solidarity.

There were plenty of condolences posted on AOL's country music chat board after Wynette's death was announced. Country fans hold their heroes close to their hearts, and the grief expressed in many of the messages was palpable. "She's singing with the angels, now," declared one admirer. If that's true, then everyone in heaven has their hankies out. When it comes to expressing the unnamed emotions woven somewhere between melancholy and maudlin, Wynette's voice is striking. At her best, with the proper kind of lyric, she has a shot at making Mount Rushmore weep. Listen to her navigate the turns of "My Arms Stay Open Late," a tune about being abandoned for cold beer and the crack of a cue ball. Here, too, she's a forgiver. "The door to my heart don't close up," she promises while comparing herself to a honkytonk. This is managed without histrionics; Wynette had an unusually understated way of tearing us apart.

It takes a little more than three hours to drive from Birmingham, Alabama to Nashville. Wynette made the ride many times during the early 1960s while struggling for recognition from the Music City establishment. She'd previously made a mark regionally, appearing on The Country Boy Eddie Show, a weekly variety show. She'd also impressed Porter Wagoner enough to intermittently be part of his road show. By then she'd been singing her whole life. Her grandpa was thrilled when she warbled "Sally Let Your Hands Hang Down" as a kid. Later, when Wynette turned to tunes by Kitty Wells, her high school pals would gather around as she knocked out songs on the piano. With Porter, Tammy was veered toward a unique sound, and in 1966 Epic records became smitten with it. In a Nashville Quonset hut filled with recording equipment, the hairdressing mother of three cut Johnny Paycheck's great cheating song, "Apartment No. 9." With the somewhat schmaltzy producer Billy Sherrill behind the boards, she found an ideal context for her brooding vocal sound. She was on her way to becoming the First Lady of country music.

Wynette was already a star when she fell in love with George Jones. Their relationship was wild because of his need to guzzle booze and her often fragile emotional state. But their skill at singing together was immense, perhaps unequaled in country music. They specialized in extremes, examining undying pledges of love, and the state of the heart when it's in the process of being torn apart. On the irresistible "Golden Ring," both ideas were explored. In a tad over three minutes, a couple go from starry-eyed newlyweds with joy tears on their cheeks to embittered antagonists fighting their final round. Another timeless George and Tammy duet is "We're Gonna Hold On." But it it was another one of their songs that told a truer tale. "We're just a pair of old sneakers / Kicking each other around / Three times a week / We play hide and cheat / Until we beat that game in the ground." It was only a few years before the Jones-Wynette real life soap opera was canceled.

This week we'll all hear "Stand By Your Man" several times. Do yourself a favor and hunt down some of Tammy's other discs as well. Her hits are great, no doubt. But there are plenty of lesser-known tunes that have just as much emotional impact. There are days when I wouldn't want to think about not hearing "It's My Way," and certainly country music is a lesser place without the way she entwines her voice with George's on "We Love It Away." Tammy was expert at interpreting what happens when hearts and promises are fused tight.