For years and years I hated country music. I would not listen to it. I had no need or desire in my life for cootervillian twang and inane lyrics about falling off of bar stools, cowboy boots, chewing tobacco, or anything else that remotely reminded me of high school. When I began dating McH I realized that his affinity for country music was something that was just going to have to be added to the list of things I would need to get over:
1. By marrying this man I will be an official cradle robber
2. By marrying this man I will be the wife of a college undergrad (I had graduated a couple years earlier).
3. By marrying this man I will probably give my mother a heart attack, an aneurysm, the shakes, the ague, the vapors, or all of the above.
4. By marrying this man I will be knowingly exposing myself to country music.
So, obviously, I decided I could overlook the country music thing. Which is funny, of course, since he doesn’t listen to it all that often anymore but I do.
My conversion to country involves a long and sordid story about turning 30, but I’ll spare you. Well, all right, it’s not actually sordid, but still . . . I came to discover that country music isn’t all bad. Actually, compared to much of today’s popular music, it is rather wholesome. At least for the most part. Also, some of it is really, really funny.
I have recently heard the quintessential country song. It embodies everything I abhorred and everything I adore about country music. I must share:
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt likes this song so much he could just eat it!
Oh, and a quick P.S. Thank you for all of the supportive comments on the last post!!!!! Believe me, the first thought I had after reading the horrible email yesterday (well, the first thought after “What the #*@&!”) was, “Glad we’re not going to be tied to a company that operates like that!” Really, who wants their name affiliated with that? Or their time taken up with that? Or their livelihood dependent upon that? Gah!