I am so glad Elvis died young.

Last night there was a tribute to Johnny Cash on television. It featured a slew of country and pop stars in a concert of Cash's music with clips from the upcoming movie, "Walk the Line"; which I am dying to see. It was hosted by Joachaim Pheonix and Reese Witherspoon. OK, so it was a blatant plug for the movie, but the talent on the show was pretty cool. U2 performed and Kris Kristofferson performed "Sunday Morning Comin' Down" with the Foo Fighters. The act I was excited about seeing was a duet of Kid Rock and Jerry Lee Lewis.

Then I saw The Killer.

I thought I was looking at Jimmy Doohan again circa the last year of his life. While Lewis' playing was still there, he looked as if they had just rolled him out of the home for his weekend ride. He sat there, mostly immobile, with a strained and raspy voice. His eyes had that glossed over old-guy look to them. When you're used to seeing the stage explode with energy its hard to see him slumped over the keyboard straining to hit each note.

His hands still knew they way over the ivories. The music pounded as hard as ever. It was just very painful to watch. Then it dawned on me that he and Elvis were around the same age and I tried to imagine him if he were alive today.

Would he be playing the big rooms and still rocking like Jagger? Would he be retired and look a lot like Bruce Campbell in "Bubba Ho-tep"? Or would he have his own theater sandwiched between Yakoff Schmirnoff and Bobby Vinton in Branson? He may have been bloated and dazed most of the time near the end, but when he hit the stage he was still the King. "Better to burn out, than to fade away..." There does seem to be something to that.