Confession

I'm waiting to hear from L (who's at his grandparents') so I can talk to him specifically about the C.D.I., but in the meantime I have something I need to tell everyone before I get back to Ella review. It's not easy to say this, so I'll just have to spit it out.

Deep breath. OK. Here goes.

I listen to country music on the way home from work.

I know! I know. sigh. I could have just kept this secret, but it's been weighing on me. Heavily.

I feel so ashamed.

sob

And I realize now that it's probably something I need to let go of. Listening to, gulp, country music and being a naturally depressed person ... well, it's just sick. Sick!

I have to say it likely began in Mexico. When L and I were in Puerto Vallarta on a day-trip pirate ship adventure, the "pirates" had Big & Rich's "Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)" blaring from the so-authentic loudspeakers on the ship. Being in a sun-drenched locale full of slightly dressed sexy people, hearing a provocative song ... well, let's just say I was intrigued. So after we got back to the States, I added the song to my iPod. Yes. I paid MONEY for a country song.

And once you get a taste ... well, it was impossible. Sure, I can use the excuse that my radio dial had been programmed to another station that switched formats to become a country station. But am I just fooling myself?

I tried! I really tried to stick with the alternative station I love so much. But my fingers would twitch on the drive home from work. And the public radio station at that time too often discussed heavy topics I didn't want to hear, having been at work all day. And the alternative station at this time was a bit, well, too alternative.

So what I like about country music is that it tells a story most of the time. Yes, there's the same-old, same-old maudlin crap, but there's some funny shit, too. For example, some lyrics:

She said, "I'm going out with my girlfriends"
margaritas at the Holiday Inn
oh mercy ... my only thought
was tequila makes her clothes fall off

I told her put an extra layer on
I know what happens when she drinks patron
her closets missing half the things she bought
tequila makes her clothes fall off

ch....she'll start by kicking out of her shoes
lose an earring in her drink
leave her jacket in the bathroom stall
drop a contact down the sink

them pantyhose ain't gonna last too long
if the DJ puts Bon Jovi on
she might come home in a tablecloth
tequila makes her clothes fall off

Funny, hunh? How about:

I’m the son of a 3rd generation farmer
I’ve been married 10 years to the farmer’s daughter
I’m a God fearin’ hard workin’ combine driver
Hoggin’ up the road on my p-p-p-p-plower
Chug a lug a luggin’ 5 miles an hour
On my International Harvester

Three miles of cars layin’ on their horns
Fallin’ on deaf ears of corn
Lined up behind me like a big parade
Of late to work road-raged jerks
Shoutin’ obscene words flippin’ me the bird

Well you may be on a state-paved road
But that blacktop runs through my payload
Excuse me for tryin’ to do my job
But this year ain’t been no bumper crop
If you don’t like the way I’m a drivin’
Get back on the interstate
Otherwise sit tight and be nice
And quit yer honkin’ at me that way

OK. Sometimes, they're really really sad, like this one about exes trading the kids:

Every other Friday
It's toys and clothes and backpacks
Is everybody in?
OK let's go see Dad
Same time in the same spot
Corner of the same old parking lot
Half the hugs and kisses
There are always sad
We trade a couple words and looks and kids again
Every other weekend

And then there's this one. It always gets to me. (Wonder why.)

Got my face pressed up against the nursery glass
She's sleepin' like a rock
My name on her wrist
Wearin' tiny pink socks
She's got my nose, she's got her mama's eyes
My brand new baby girl
She's a miracle