I have always had a love/hate relationship with country music. Since radio reception in my office has narrowed my choices to country or country, I have been listening to more Carrie Underwood than usual. While the good 'ol bar standards can't be beat, the honky-tonkin' sound of old Hank is always good for a party, and alt-country has paved the way for a whole new kind of sound, most country is manipulative, and well, nauseating. Need examples? We need to look no further than the current Billboard Country chart.
Kenny Chesney- "Don't Blink"
While I find the general premise of the song to be endearing, the lyrics are simply past cheesy. Couple this with Kenny's "beat up" hat and "everyman" persona, and you've got a real piece of emotional manipulation going on here. For example:
"Don't blink. Just like that, you're six years old and you take a nap. And you wake up and you're 25 and your high school sweetheart becomes your wife..."
Methinks Kenny bought some stock in Kleenex before releasing this "tearjerker."
"Country Man" by Luke Bryan
There's so much material here that I don't even know where to begin.
"Hey I'm a country man- a city boy can't do the things I can. I can hotwire your tractor and plow up your land. Hey baby I'm a country man..."
But wait! There's more!
"Hey I'm a country man huntin' me a good ole' country girlfriend. Why don't you come and join me in my new deer stand?"
Wait a sec. I'm strangely turned on by this song. Anyway, this is nothing more than justification for "country men" everywhere to rally around their coolers and trucks, yell "Hell YEAH" and continue to think that women think the killer combo of deer corn and camo to be sexy.
Next up is the type of song that crusaders of country music live for- Chuck Wicks' "Stealing Cinderella." It's sappy, it's got dads and daughters, and it's got all of the makings of a song you'll be hearing at weddings for the next decade. Sigh.
"I came to see her daddy for sit down man to man. It wasn't any secret I'd be asking for her hand. I guess that's why he left me waiting in the living room by myself ...with at least a dozen pictures of her sitting on a shelf..."
Now I'm going to admit something here- I did get a little misty eyed the first time I heard this song. However, when the next song came on the radio (I think it was "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off.") I felt completely and utterly manipulated. I, too, had been duped by country music.
Please, Nashville. Spare us from this schlock.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
What it means to matter
This is something that I've been dealing with lately, both personally and professionally. I think we as human beings go through phases in our lives when we really feel the need to matter either to someone else or to something else. Obviously, I know I matter to my kids. I matter to my family. That isn't taken for granted at all. However, sometimes there is that tug at the soul...the need to matter to another person who isn't related to me and who might need me, too. It is a difficult thing to have people in my life who matter to me a great deal- but, for whatever reason, I don't seem to "matter back." But that doesn't stop me from caring for them.
I believe that feeling like I (or anyone, really) matter can be found in the little things- a text message, an act of kindness, a touch on the arm, a shared memory. Lately, these have come from quite unexpected sources.
An example: A friend who is near and dear to me and I were exchanging emails the other morning. You know the type- little one-liners just to pass the time and to share a few bits of information. One was ended with simply "love you," which absolutely meant the galaxy to me.
I will continue to deal with this in the way that I always do- I will keep caring for the people around me, keep loving those whom I love. While the saying "you get what you give" might not be completely accurate for me, I will continue to live that way. Maybe that will be the thing that matters when it's all said and done.
how many hours will it take?
when will i feel the ice break?
when will i come in from the cold?
somewhere past the last texaco
is a feeling we know
will we ever find love in the disconnection?
mama always said if you want to keep it
love is a fire and you need to feed it
if what she says is true
i'm going back to school
'cause i need to read the book on you
if you give it away, you get it back
if you give it away, you get it back... - Jill Cunniff "Disconnection"
I believe that feeling like I (or anyone, really) matter can be found in the little things- a text message, an act of kindness, a touch on the arm, a shared memory. Lately, these have come from quite unexpected sources.
An example: A friend who is near and dear to me and I were exchanging emails the other morning. You know the type- little one-liners just to pass the time and to share a few bits of information. One was ended with simply "love you," which absolutely meant the galaxy to me.
I will continue to deal with this in the way that I always do- I will keep caring for the people around me, keep loving those whom I love. While the saying "you get what you give" might not be completely accurate for me, I will continue to live that way. Maybe that will be the thing that matters when it's all said and done.
how many hours will it take?
when will i feel the ice break?
when will i come in from the cold?
somewhere past the last texaco
is a feeling we know
will we ever find love in the disconnection?
mama always said if you want to keep it
love is a fire and you need to feed it
if what she says is true
i'm going back to school
'cause i need to read the book on you
if you give it away, you get it back
if you give it away, you get it back... - Jill Cunniff "Disconnection"
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Back from the dead...
So it's now September. (Wow, have I neglected this blog.) The thoughts haven't stopped rolling, but over the summer they felt so self-indulgent that I felt dirty even posting them. The thoughts weren't "dirty" necessarily... (Well...) but it just felt a tad shameless even for this veteran blogger. (read: pitiful) I'll hit the highlights:
June. Louisville.
Graded over 1300 AP essays and had the time of my life. Met the greatest roommate ever, the moodiest bar patron ever, and went to my first drag show.
June. New Mexico.
Ho hum.
The rest of June was spent waiting by the phone. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. And lots of rain. And lots of time pumping water out of my basement.
June. Here.
Got a new job. Yay! Kiss my feet.
June. Arkansas.
Splendid drive. Celebrated my new job alone, which was mega lame. Can still see the sun glistening on the waters of Lake Eufala after a rainstorm, though.
July. Oklahoma.
Had an (almost) sublime weekend. Wish I could put this in a jar and pull it out on nights like this. Open spaces, road trips, and that feeling of freedom that comes when in a place where people are down to earth.
July. Teaching.
This turned into a much bigger ordeal than I had planned. Still waiting by the phone. Still dumb.
August. The Ball is Rolling.
So here it is in September, and the weeks just roll by. I have my "big job" now, but somehow I thought it would feel different. It really doesn't, but I enjoy it nonetheless.
The Divine Miss Z found some old cards last night. Of course, there were a couple in there from her father* (Father is used for lack of a more accurate description.) For some reason, seeing his handwriting reminded me of all of the times he used to "hide" me from people. I couldn't answer his phone. If I was in the car or in the room when he was on the phone, he acted as if I didn't even exist. He walked several steps ahead of me when we were out in public. Things like that. For some reason, it all came rushing back. I have felt shades of this in the past months, but this came over me in a wave.
It's tough to escape the past sometimes. That's why I'm moving forward. A new season and a new year in teacher speak.
Good thing I'm back from the dead.
June. Louisville.
Graded over 1300 AP essays and had the time of my life. Met the greatest roommate ever, the moodiest bar patron ever, and went to my first drag show.
June. New Mexico.
Ho hum.
The rest of June was spent waiting by the phone. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. And lots of rain. And lots of time pumping water out of my basement.
June. Here.
Got a new job. Yay! Kiss my feet.
June. Arkansas.
Splendid drive. Celebrated my new job alone, which was mega lame. Can still see the sun glistening on the waters of Lake Eufala after a rainstorm, though.
July. Oklahoma.
Had an (almost) sublime weekend. Wish I could put this in a jar and pull it out on nights like this. Open spaces, road trips, and that feeling of freedom that comes when in a place where people are down to earth.
July. Teaching.
This turned into a much bigger ordeal than I had planned. Still waiting by the phone. Still dumb.
August. The Ball is Rolling.
So here it is in September, and the weeks just roll by. I have my "big job" now, but somehow I thought it would feel different. It really doesn't, but I enjoy it nonetheless.
The Divine Miss Z found some old cards last night. Of course, there were a couple in there from her father* (Father is used for lack of a more accurate description.) For some reason, seeing his handwriting reminded me of all of the times he used to "hide" me from people. I couldn't answer his phone. If I was in the car or in the room when he was on the phone, he acted as if I didn't even exist. He walked several steps ahead of me when we were out in public. Things like that. For some reason, it all came rushing back. I have felt shades of this in the past months, but this came over me in a wave.
It's tough to escape the past sometimes. That's why I'm moving forward. A new season and a new year in teacher speak.
Good thing I'm back from the dead.
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