By the time anyone reads
One of the many gifts

I have a shocking confession

I have a shocking confession to make. I listen to country music. Love it. Now, I know there are people out there reading this and thinking, so? Are you trying to imply there is something wrong with country music? And those people are right. There is good country music out there, true artistry. Being a fan is nothing to be ashamed of.
Yet I am, because what I like about country is what the rest of you are shaking their heads over right now. I love the hackneyed lyrics, the heart tugging clichés. A good sob story, set to song. C’mon, baby, me cry.
I know, not something to be proud of. I’m baring my soul here, and it’s not pretty. I am pitifully affected by these songs, so much so that I had to stop listening to them in the car when I was pregnant. I was too emotional and would cry so hard I couldn’t drive.
It gets worse. Sometimes, I try to explain songs to people. Now, that just ends up with me reciting the lyrics to someone who is staring at me. The thought Why? Why is she doing this to me? is practically hovering visibly over their head, yet I am driven.
“See, she’s singing about her dad? And he never said he loved her? And then she goes, ‘the man I thought would never die (pausing here to blink back tears), has been gone almost a year.’ Isn’t that sad?”
Picture now my poor victim (usually my mom…sorry, mom, but you’re the least likely to walk away from me mid-sentence), looking at me with glazed eyes. Her will to listen has been drained, sapped by my ragged rendition of yet another stupid song. And I know it, but I’m all into the stupid song.
And you know what? I’m going to do it again. To you. Here goes, a glimpse into the workings of my mind, as I listen to a song. In this case (blush), She’s Gonna Make It, by Garth Brooks.

He followed her to work this morning,

Oh, I remember the first time I heard this song.

He’d never seen that dress before.

What was it, four years ago? I was still married.

She’d seemed to sail right through

Thought it pretty shrewd of ol’ Garth.

Those dark clouds forming,

Pandering to the divorced woman.

That he knows he’s headed for.


After seven years of marriage,
He wanted out.

Yup. Sounds familiar.

After seven months of freedom,
It’s clear that there’s no doubt.
She’s gonna make it,

Better believe it, baby.

And he never will.


He’s at the foot of the mountain,
She’s over that hill.


He’s sinkin’ at sea,
And her sails are filled.

That’s just how it is, too!

She’s gonna make it,
And he never will.
And you know it’s not like she’s forgot about him,
She’s just dealing with the pain.

That’s right, dealing with it. Like grown ups do.

And the fact that she’s survived so well without him,
You know it’s driving him insane.

Loser. Grow up.

And the crazy thing about it,
Is she’d take him back.

Well, I don’t know about that…

But the fool in him that walked out,


Is the fool that just won’t ask.


She’s gonna make it,

Yes she is!

And he never will.


He’s at the foot of the mountain,
She’s over that hill.


He’s sinkin’ at sea,
And her sails are filled.

That’s right, baby!

She’s gonna make it,
And he never will.

Tell it true, Garth!

Ahem. Well, let me never be accused of putting myself on a pedestal. There you have it, the unvarnished truth. Hope you can deal.
And again, I’m sorry, Mom.


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