There is a poem that starts out like this: "Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep."

For Johnny Cash, he'll never die. Not to me or millions of others. Driving tonight on I-94 to Minneapolis I saw a sheet hanging over the overpass. Thinking it was left over from 9/11 yesterday, I glanced up. It said, "You'll always be a legend Johnny Cash."

MSNBC is asking fans to submit their favorite Johnny stories and I was amazed at the wide range of age groups that were posting. My favorite Johnny Cash story is this, as related to me by my mom.

In the late 1970's, my dad was an Entertainment columnist for the Rochester Post-Bulletin. He did a lot of great columns about music, especially country, which was his favorite. Say nothing of the man in black. Dad set up an interview with Cash, and he was set to call our house at a specific time. The phone rings, and my mom answers it. She hears in a loud, booming baritone: "This is Johnny Cash. May I speak to Steve Webb?" My mom puts her hand over the phone, jumping up and down, and says in a loud whisper: "STEVE! It's JOHNNY CASH!" Guess where Dad was? In the bathroom. Dad yells, "I'm in the crapper!" Mom was mortified. But, Dad did the interview and guess what? He said Johnny Cash was just as cool as you'd expect him to be.

Do you remember that, Pat?

I can't say how glad I am that I purchased his last CD in August. And I'm saddened to realize that the outlaws are getting old. Waylon's gone, now Johnny. Willie's hitting 70. These men were a vital part of my musical influence as a child. One of the very first songs I learned to play on my guitar at age 7 was Folsom Prison Blues. I guess it's just hard to let them go. It truly is feeling like you've lost a grandpa.

John Ritter was a shocker. Having been a big Three's Company fan, and a fan of his new show, it's another sad one for me.

Johnny Cash's death for me is kind of like when Michael Landon died. I watched Little House on the Prairie for more then 75% of my life. He was a father figure to me because Pa could solve anything. As TV guide suggested," When he died a very public death from cancer, we all felt like we'd lost a family member. After all, who had spent more good times with us in our living room?" That's the best way I can sum up the loss of Johnny Cash.

Fall is approaching. It might be 90 degrees in St. Paul today, but that feeling is in the air.

Kids are back in school, traffic on the Interstate sucks, Vikings-Packer game yesterday (hot damn, we won) and hockey is on it's way. When my husband says to feel sorry for me, he means it. I have accumulated many hobbies in the past 2 years since he began watching NHL Center Ice coverage of the Penguins. Good for me, good for him.

In a little over a week I begin my writing classes that I signed up for. I'm really excited and looking forward to the experience. The writing thing is beckoning me in many ways and I hope to spend the winter working towards becoming a more creative non fiction writer. Must run in the blood of the Webb clan. Maybe it's that William Shakespeare connection?

I had my review at work on Friday for my 90 days. Didn't hear anything bad, which is always a plus. I know I'm a good worker. I just have a major personality clash with my boss, I believe. Today solidified that. I honestly can't decide if this place is worth sticking around for or if I'm just banging my head against the wall. If I was able to do my job without all the contact I have with him, I wouldn't mind it so much. However, we need to buy a house and that is the defining factor here. The money is inherently more important at this point in my life. I'm sitting tonight out on the deck reading in my mom's Good Housekeeping magazine about this killer jobs that people have that are so fullfilling and fun. Does such a job exist? I know all jobs are not perfect, but to actually enjoy going to work would be interesting. Or not even to enjoy, but to not dread it? I guess that's the question of the year for anyone. Answers? I'm willing to listen to anything.

Mike purchased Madden 2004 today. I think it's safe to say he is quite excited.

Our friends Andy and Janelle Butler had a baby girl on Thursday, September 4. 9lbs 7oz-Ava Sophia Butler. Janelle was quite large when I saw her 3 weeks ago, so it was no surprise the baby was as big as she was. It sounds like they are really excited.

Mike is in his friend's wedding this weekend here in St. Paul. His parents are coming down on Saturday to attend, so we're looking forward to having them and enjoying the wedding. We don't know many people, but I always like a good wedding dance whether I know people or not!

Congratulations to Pat's tribute to David Letterman. Did Mr. Urda happen to catch the show? I can only imagine how funny he may have thought that to be!

I had forgotten to mention a funny story our cousin Cindy had told to us during the camping weekend about a month ago. I related the story to my mom this weekend and she laughed so hard she cried. I thought you might enjoy it.

Cindy's son Derrick is now 19, and in college. During the camping weekend he got up one morning and his parent's friend Chirp said as he walked out of the camper, "hey, nice moose beard there Derrick." Derrick's got a scrawny goatee he was growing. Derrick smiled. Cindy said to us, "Didn't I ever tell you the story about that?" Apparently when Derrick was about 6 or 7 he walked in on Cindy when she was going to the bathroom. Nothing new for a mom, I'm sure. Suddenly Derrick stopped, pointed, and yelled: "MOM! You've got a moose beard!!" She nearly fell over. As you can imagine, it's been a family/friend joke ever since.

And on that note, good night!