I'm one of those people that use music to catalog times in my life. Fro the past few years, I have left my radio dial on NPR, talk radio, or some other form of liberal talk radio. Every now and then I will go back to my roots and try out the FM dial and see what takes me back.
On the way home from school today, I made the switch, FM. I don't remember any of the saved buttons, so I just picked and it was country. Country music and I have had a long-standing relationship and it took me back as I drove from Olympia to Queen Anne.
Boots, nachos, a Mom-made number that, of course, matched Mrs. Smith, the Goodwin's, and blisters on our toes made up our Thursday nights as a child. Our family would country line dance until all hours and to be honest, I cannot remember anything more fun. We learned every dance under the sun and made memories that will last my lifetime. Brooks and Dunn takes me back to Gerry Andels.
Ridin' shotgun in my dad's big red truck going to Eastern Washington. Driving the hour to Cle Elem with the country music blaring, windows down, and Garth drooling through the back window. George Straight takes me back to Elk Height Rd.
Horses, flannel, felt hats, spurs, Brian Dziedic, and clowns surrounding me at the Ellensburg Rodeo. Watching my parents hand-in-hand as we cheered on Grandma Ruby's horses that won the horse shows. Making fun of the matchy-matchy couples with fringe and ironed on decals. Reba McIntire takes me back to July in Ellenburg with corn on the cob.
She got her car first and it was not glamorous. Dani drove a white Ford Taurus, but no matter, it was our ticket to freedom. Both of us were jobless, relying on our parents for gas money. We never actually drove anywhere particular, but we would scrounge up change from her sofas and her brothers jeans and head out. We would put $1.50 in the tank and feel like we owned the streets. Tim McGraw takes me back to Dani's car and dating the Reynolds’s brothers.
It was 1999, the year I grew out of Mrs. Smith's clothes and we became friends again. With several bags of chips, many boxes of Milk Duds, and dozens of blankets in hand, we would drive down Highway 167 towards the corn fields of Auburn for a long night in front of the drive-in big screens. We were parked there every weekend that summer and that is where she started to like me again. We formed a friendship that year over Milk Duds and scratchy movie lines played over the radio. Deanna Carter's Strawberry Wine takes me back to discovering I really enjoyed this girl with whom I have spent my life with.
We were so sad, she and I. We lost our family, or dog, and now our home we grew up in. I drove Mrs. Smith back to school and we listened to a great song. It brought tears to our eyes and we held hands until I dropped her on the front step of Kappa Delta. She squeeze, I squeeze and she left. The Judds, Love Can Build a Bridge takes me back to the feeling of not being alone anymore. The understanding, that Mrs. Smith got it too. She knew what it was like and knew that things would never be the same. We were both going though something larger than life. The world stopped spinning for just a moment.
I had just left San Berna-ghetto and moved into the Long Beach house. I met this girl in my psych class and I only introduced myself to her because she had cute clothes on. Her name: Mallory. Fast friends, she was the quintessential California girl. She moved in and a second later we had music blasting tanned bodies, ate too many chips with salsa, and sat all day with Millie on the hammock. Gretchen Wilson takes me back to the fun times of California spending it with the sweetest girl I have ever met.
My relationship with Country music has been glorious. I love the intoxicating way that each song is a story and relatable. The genre itself, is so embracing. It includes musicians across the board from pop, to rap, to rock. It has no boundaries and it excludes no one. They have little drug abuse and minor family drama. They write honest and strong songs about their families, friends, women, and beer. Hey, I even heard them advertising to give away Britney tickets and rodeo tickets within 5 minutes of each other! Can you say welcoming? There are critics far and wide that detest Country music (Annie) but I just love the way it tells my story.
5 comments:
I didn't ever not like you or love you, I hope you know that. But, I do remember that summer too and do remember growing closer (that was the same summer we saw She's All That seven times in the theater, I think). And you still have my sweater, yoga pants and blue pinstriped skirt with the pockets...I'd like them back, please. :)
I know you never NOT liked me, but we were just sisters then, now we are sisters and great friends...that was the difference. And yes, I do have some of your clothes, but that was not becasue I wanted them, it was becasue you talked me into sleeping over and I didn't have any clothes to wear. I will get them back to you...soon:)
For the record, my Precious - I did try to join in the fun and went with you guys to Gerry Andels once. Nothing was cuter than watching you guys Boot Scootin' Boogie. But alas, I am a Rock n Roll chick and couldn't abide the country genre. I also don't like Jesus music. AC/DC - I am all over that. Led Zep... Beatles... Nirvana... oh yeah. Sadly, there are no cute dances or outfits to go along with my music.
Welcome back to blogging. I LOVE LOVE LOVED reading this story about your country roots. You are adorable in so many ways.
How fabulously nostalgic. You really captured those moments!
Welcome back! I've missed your creative writing, and I love this story. It always amazes me how you can put feelings, situations and now music into stories that everyone can enjoy and see a little deeper into your making.
I, too, enjoyed those Jerry Andel days.
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