Still here in Kentucky. And enjoying myself more than I thought I would. As a rule I only spend a couple of days at home before I start to go crazy. Mostly because I can only take so much of sitting my mom’s kitchen talking. She has very bad arthritis and has a hard time getting around. But I think she may have caught on because she’s wanting to go all weekend. We were out all afternoon, we have plans tomorrow afternoon, we have family coming over on Saturday for my world famous Spaghetti Pie, and then Sunday we are driving to Cincinnati to go to my father’s favorite restaurant which my mother will only go to when I’m home. And then I fly home on Monday. No time to be bored or frustrated.
I’ve noticed in the past and especially right now that if you fail to comment on other’s blogs they will soon stop coming to yours. My comments have dropped from about 10 a day to only 2 a day. I’m sorry I haven’t been better about staying caught up. But I was without an Internet connection for almost a week and now I’m at my mom’s using her computer and I don’t think having my mom able to happen on some of the blogs that I read is really a good idea. So this is a selfish plea to ask everyone to comment tomorrow. Just so I know you are still reading. It is all about me you know. Just ask Chuck, Kelly, Michelle, Todd, my mom, “The Director”, Ashley the Cunt, really cute Jack, Chris, Mike, Sean, Jeff, Matt, Eric, Jeremy, Christian, Tom, Angie, Sarah, Jed, Michael, Daniel, Bob, Curtis, David, Earl, Frank, George, Harold, Irving, Jason, Kurt, Larry, Marvin, Nathan, Oscar, Pete, Quincy, Ron, Stacy, Travis, Ursula, Vicky, Wayne, Xavier, Yanni, Zoolander. Go ahead just ask them, they will all tell you it’s always all about me.
I drove around tonight after a trip to the movies. It was a beautiful night, with a full moon and the temperature was about 75 degrees. So I rolled down all the windows cranked up my country music and wandered all over town. It was wonderful. I drove through old neighborhoods, past bars I used to frequent, past my favorite restaurant, through the university, through the McDonald’s drive thru (twice). I didn’t get home until about an hour ago. I’m sure my mom (who doesn’t sleep when I’m at home until I come in lock the door and go to bed) was worried sick.
Speaking of country music. And I like country music. At least some of it. I’ve realized this before but it was really appearant tonight. Someone out there really believes that the only people listening to country music are stupid backwoods rednecks. And I don’t believe that’s the case. But some of the song lyrics are just fucking offensive.
Such as the two stanzas from a song by Toby Keith and Willy Nelson below:
Grandpappy told my pappy
Back in my day, son
A man had to answer
For the wicked thing he done
Take all the rope in Texas
Find a tall oak tree
Round up all of them bad boys
And hang ’em high in the street
For all the people to see
We got too many gangsters
Doing dirty deeds
Too much corruption
And crime in the streets
It’s time the long arm of the law
Put a few more in the ground
Send them all to their Maker
And he’ll set them on down
You can bet, He’ll set ’em down
Here’s the problem I have with the song. What happened to a fair trial with a jury of your peers. What happened till innocent until proven guilty. The minute we let people take the law into their own hands the minute the country dissolves into chaos. And who gets to decide what’s right and wrong? These fuckers sure don’t want me to decide. Cause all those rebel flag waving rednecks from the south would be forced into slavery, working on the farms and houses of every black family in the country. Then they might see that the entire idea of slavery (and the continous support of it) might not be such a good one.
And then how about the religous country songs like the one below:
There ain’t nothing that can’t be done
By me and God
Ain’t nobody come in between me and God
One day we’ll live together
Where the angels trod
Me and God
Early in the morning talking it over
Me and God
Late at night talking it over
Me and God
You could say where like two peas in a pod
Me and God
He’s my Father
He’s my friend
The beginning
And the end
He rules the world
With a staff and rod
We’re a team
Me and God
First off none of the rednecks that they think their audience is, that I know, that listens to this stuff is religious. They might talk a good game, but they haven’t been to church since Vacation Bible School in 1975 (and they only went then to make the plaster praying hands to give to their mammas). They probably couldn’t even tell you how to get to a church. And if given a choice they’ll take hunting over Jesus any day of the week. And it’s not like they are giving, loving human beings. I’m still amazed that the men in my family teach their children to say “nigger” before they know how to even talk. And don’t get my started about what they say about the Mexican families that live across the street. “You know they live ten to a house.” At least this is what my cousins tell me. Of course the same cousin, lives in her two bedroom apartment with her live in boyfriend, three kids, her mother, her brother, his two kids, two dogs, and a cat. Okay so they only have 9 people living in their apartment so it’s not the same.
I know I’m making broad generalizations here, but it annoys me that I can’t listen to country music without getting god thrust down my throat. If I want church music I’ll go to church. I don’t even mind the songs that tell a story about something religous. Live Randy Travis’ Three Wooden Crosses, or Kenny Chesney’s Baptism. But leave the flat out preaching songs to the music minister down at the Baptist Church.
I might get off my soap box now.
Just for the record all of the descriptions of my family above are true. I wish they weren’t but they are. They don’t say anything in front of me about being gay because they know it won’t go over very well, and I think there’s a part of them that worries I’m going to go away forever and not come back. Because in their fucked up way they love me. But I do believe that once my mom and my Aunt Doo are gone, I won’t be back in Kentucky much at all.
And now because it makes me think of driving across Texas with Michelle in the middle of nowhere and hearing this song for the first time. We listened intently and loved it immediately, for reasons only we could understand. And then we heard at least 50 more times before we crossed out of Texas. Every now and then I will sing it to her on her answering machine. It makes us both laugh.
Three Wooden Crosses sung by Randy Travis
A Maddog In The City 
I love that song! But OMG I cannot listen to it. I know better than to click that little triangle.
But Maddog, when I hear Willy Nelson’s voice cracking out about rounding up all the bad boys to hang ’em high in the street, I know he only means it figuratively. (yeah, and so do the literalist rednecks) Of course the best part of that song is when he feeds beer to his horses. That’s the only part I really listen to. I like the syncopation in this song, though. 🙂
Glad things are going well at your mom’s place. That nighttime drive sounds wonderful. Did it help clear your head?
Have a safe trip back to the city.
Still readin’, Doggy. Possibly, not everyone has a ready reply to a long article on theater work. Doesn’t mean we’re not out here.
Spaghetti pie! I want some. I bet it’s yummy.
Glad you’re making the best of your visit with Mom. I know it can be tiring — been there but in the long run it’s worth it.
Enjoy!
Your blog is still here? Who knew? 😉
Actually, I’m with Zeph, above. Not just about the theater stuff though – the post could be about the weather or some hot menz, but I still might not have the “right” comment for it. My mind doesn’t always work it’s quickest at 0630 in the morning.
Wait. I think I was just able to string together more then ten words. How’d that happen?
a. You’re having spaghetti pie and you did not invite me?!!
b. I’m still here because I enjoy reading “all about me”
c. Re: rednecks and fundies – right on! You point out the double standards by which they live and judge others. I’m willing to bet that 90% of the people with “God bless America” stickers on their bumpers have not been inside a church since that same VBS in ’75! and most who are gung-ho for the war would be at a loss to tell you where the nearest enlistment center for the military is.
Spaghetti Pie sounds delish, do we get a recipe?
I’m not offended by the lyrics so much as I find them of limited meaning, for the very reasons you describe.
Also, it’s impossible for me to be angry with Willie Nelson under any circumstances! Always loved him (although Toby Keith I would gladly trade for a used Pinto), and whenever he writes things like this, I think he’s being ironic. I would be charitable enough to give Toby Keith that same credit, but I don’t think he’s smart enough.
Glad you’re enjoying your time at home in KY! I lived their for a year in grad school and loved every minute…
The laptop is only available on the weekends otherwiseI’d be all:
“Airlines so suck.”
“Fuck “the director.”
and
“Fuck “the director.”
Today, I’ll go with:
You should warn your relatives that in some places their children can be taken away from them if you teach them to be racists.
I’ve read that even though Willie has paid off the IRS and got a substantial pile of cash, he mostly goes around and plays for free now, just because he loves to.
That’s cool.
Awwww…good ol’ Mom. She sounds like a real sweetie.