I heard that song last night while watching the CMA’s and I can’t stop singing it.
I was born in Texas. We have a ranch that has been in our family for years, we grew up hunting, fishing, bailing hay, watching big Texas thunderstorms roll in from the front porch. I’ve helped my dad run cattle through pens, fed a calf with a bottle, caught my first striper (that’s a fish, not a misspelled word!) when I was 8, eaten lots of deer meat, dove, etc…
Let’s say Southern, for some reason there is a necessary level of sophistication to go along with that. Again, Or something. It might be worth mentioning before I freak some of you out that I AM college educated, have traveled quite a bit (see Greece pic below, with camo pants I might add), love stiletto’s, wine, fine dining, etc…but can also load a shotgun or shoot a crossbow. Mkay? Moving on…
My parents were hippies too though, loved themselves some classic rock and roll, smoked cigarettes on the curb at school, long hair, dad with the sideburns, you know “age of aquarius” type of stuff.So, growing up I got it all. Country, southern rock, even a little blues now and then. It’s all stuck with me and I’m grateful for the exposure but nothing brings me closer to home than some good ol’ country music.
The first song I learned to sing along to was Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers – “Islands in the Stream.” Hell yeah – you know what I”m talking about…..(cricket sounds)…uh…right? I know just about every George Jones, Conway Twitty, Roseanne Cash, Charlie Daniels, Willie Nelson, Alabama, Restless Heart, George Strait, The Judds, Reba song out there. From the 80’s, 90’s, and on into today I know country music. It’s part of me and I love it.
Being married to an Italian guy from New York poses quite the combination of musical interests as mentioned in my last post. When we got together he NEVER listened to country. He had that stereotypical twang “my dog ran away, my wife left, shoot my gun, where’s my whiskey” idea of what country music was. Since then, well, he’s changed a lot. It relaxes him, he says. And, well, he’s been around my family now long enough to know he better like it. I’m talking Willie Nelson CD’s play on Christmas Eve while my brothers where their camo coveralls around.