Listening to Country, Eating Crow

I think it's safe to say the vast majority of arguments my brother Joe and I had growing up were somehow caused by country music. Joe loved country music; I hated it. I know--I live in a town with more cows than people and we have an FFA-sponsored "Drive a Tractor to School Day" every year at NorthWood High School; that makes me the odd one out. I wanted rock or pop or quite honestly anything but country. For the longest time, it was one of about three genres of music I just couldn't stand. But Joe's older than me, got to drive before me, and by golly, he would have his way when it came to what we listened to on the radio. I can't tell you how many rides to school were punctuated by my begging him to change the channel and his grinning and saying, "When you get to drive, you pick what's on."

Well, now I'm a big girl! I've been driving long enough to have to renew my licence! And I'm listening to...

Country music.

Guys, I have no idea how this happened. If you do, please tell me. Because as the Good Lord is my witness, I'm loading over half my presets with country stations and planning on going to country music festivals with my brother and sister-in-law. I don't get it, but I'm, well, I'm "eating crow," as Andy Griffith used to say. (Nobody uses that expression anymore. Maybe they figured out crow is really high in cholesterol or something?)

It's a recent thing. Not even joking, one night I was sitting in my dorm room, scrolling through my Spotify, and I said (maybe even aloud), "I want to listen to country!" I had no idea why--still don't--but knew that's what I wanted to listen to. So I put on a country playlist created by someone far better versed in said genre than I, and I haven't looked back.

You know what I think it is? I mean, don't get me wrong, some of it is indeed the sheer craftsmanship of the music--I'm a sucker for good harmonies and well-used mandolins. But honestly, I think after three years of college in Mishawaka--legitimately city living for someone like me--I've finally realized that country music sounds like home. Not my home specifically--Dad and I always went for classic rock growing up; and I listen to Aerosmith when I'm truly homesick--but like my hometown. FINALLY, people are enthusiastically making music about tractors and cruising through country roads in big trucks! It's not all about going to the club and singing "baby" when you can't decide what to write next. Okay, you've still got your beer-drinking songs in country music. In fact, you've got quite a few of those. But you listen to this music and realize that somewhere out there, morals and appreciation of the little things still exist. You listen to this music and you can hear that the artists are making music because the music, not the money, is so important to them. You listen to this music, and for the duration of one song you truly know the artist. These songs represent who they are, how they were raised, the very core of their existence in some cases. You could be listening to their song, or you could be sitting at the breakfast table with them, shooting the breeze over a glass of sweet tea. It's not just a song, it's an experience. That's what music ought to be.

Now, in saying all of this, I'm not by any means hating on all my other favorite non-country songs. Most of my all-time favorite artists from the UK, for goodness sake. Country music is kind of the anchor that reminds me where I'm from, and reminds me that you can do anything in good old America, including making great music. Once a year, everybody dons red, white, and blue and sings, "God bless America!" But country artists essentially sing that song every day, just written differently. It's like when Thanksgiving comes around and people say we should be thankful year-round. Shouldn't we be grateful for this rockin' country we live in--every day? Just something I've been thinking of while listening to Darius Rucker.

It's just weird sometimes. There are a lot of country songs I heard back in the days when I pulled the short stick and had to listen to my brother's radio stations, and I vividly remember them sounding like nails on a chalkboard. But now they come on the radio, I listen, and I turn up the radio and smile. Perfect example: Zac Brown Band's "Toes." Hated it. But it was playing while I was driving the other week and I was so confused as to why I was grinning from ear to ear. It's like I get it now.

Dude. Weird.

I thought about telling you my ten favorite country songs, but I've done things like that a few times already and it's probably starting to get old. Plus I'm super excited about the list I actually came up with, mostly because I'm still learning about this style of music that I've been saturated in all my life and am just now getting into. But, in case you were really dying to know a few of my favorites (as I'm sooooo sure you were), I'll squeeze in a non-ten number of them in a non-list format immediately following the actual list.

Ten Things I've Learned Since Starting to Listen to Country Music

1. Real country music enthusiasts hate Rascal Flatts. I never quite figured out why this is, but it must be true because I've always liked Rascal Flatts. Maybe in ten years I'll hate them, too. Although honestly, I hope I don't :P
2. Apparently one more beer song is always necessary. I mean, most pop songs are almost exclusively about drinking or partying or something of the sort. Country has to have its own sort of equivalent. Now, country beer-drinking songs are a lot classier than pop drinking songs are (not to be confused with pop-drinking songs, which would be about drinking pop, because there is nothing wrong with a good ol' pop-drinking song), but there are some really downright funny titles out there. The ever popular "Beer for My Horses," "Beers Ago," "Pretty Good at Drinking Beer" (oooh you must be talented!), and my personal favorite title, "Beer Thirty." You must've had a few if you thought up that last one.    
3. Tractors are cool. So cool that songs actually get written about them! And, okay, I have to share this story: So I was with my family at an open house for a John Deere dealership a few years ago. They had this big white tent, a skidloader bucket full of ice and Pepsi, and country music blasting from speakers. Suddenly, Craig Morgan's "International Harvester" starts playing. Okay, guys, this is an awesome song. It definitely captures the spirit of driving a tractor down a busy road at 25 mph. But, just in case you don't know about tractors, the rivalry between IH and John Deere is like the one between USC and Notre Dame. So naturally, the tables previously filled with the sounds farmers talking farmer talk exploded with shouts of, "TURN THAT #$%^& OFF!" and the like.
        Because tractor songs are fantastic. Just as long as it's the right tractor.
        And I am my father's daughter. And the right tractor is John Deere.
4. Your "violin" is now a "fiddle." I've had my violin for about a year and a half now and I'm pretty sure my brother has never once called it a violin. Because in country music, it's a fiddle. That's what it is.
5. Who needs a tenor when you can have a bass? Josh Turner. Trace Adkins. Ladies and gents, Mr. Johnny Cash. Need I say more? Which reminds me...
6. You don't mess with a Johnny Cash song. Remember when Adam Lambert was on American Idol and he did his own little spin of "Ring of Fire"? Okay, I liked it. But keep in mind that (A) this was in my country music-hatin' days, and (B) I, well, okay I really liked Adam Lambert. In hindsight, I listen to the original song and think, "Holy crap, I can see why this ticked people off." I'm really, really curious what the Man in Black would have thought of that rendition of his song. But his true fans? They hated it.
         And, side note, one of the items on my bucket list is to successfully learn all the cities listed in "I've Been Everywhere" in order. Then to sing it without passing out. I don't know, though. It's gonna be rough.
7. If you're a man, you should have a truck. But not just any truck..."a jacked-up Chevy with a lift kit." Is it way too big for a normal parking space? Does it run on diesel? Does it have giant chrome stacks protruding from somewhere prominent? If the answer to any of these questions is "no," you're doing it wrong. And if you're a woman, you are clearly falling over men who drive those trucks. And you probably dig that southern drawl and want to take the truck out muddin'.
8. Harmony > Autotune. Lawd have mercy. I have yet to hear a country song with any hint of autotune in it--okay, except for that remix of "Cruise," which doesn't really count and which I still don't know how I feel about because I really love Florida Georgia Line's original. In country music, you hear the singer's voice. I think I can safely say I've never heard a country artist who didn't have an amazing set of pipes. You hear a few voices expertly harmonizing, you hear the rich timbre of once voice; and you undoubtedly hear that twang.
9. The smaller the town, the greater the pride. We heard "California Girls" and "New York State of Mind." And honestly, wherever you're from, I'm glad if you're proud to be from there. But so few people write about those small towns. I'm from a town of a little over 2000 people and, as I've said at least once, quite a few more cows. When I first heard "Where I Come From" by Montgomery Gentry, I think my jaw dropped and I said to myself, "Holy poop, this is about Wakarusa." I don't know what town it's actually about, but it speaks for the little towns like the one that raised me. There's a lot of wonderful things in those small towns. I'm glad music sees that, too.
10. Christ is still King. You can't confess to having a savior in pop music, not unless it's yourself or a bottle of pills or something that really has no power to save. In country music, you have an opportunity to hear the gospel that you don't have in any other secular genre. Granted it isn't every song that you hear it; but oh, you do hear it. "Muddy Water" by Trace Adkins, for instance. It's mainstream music--or at least, it was back when it first came out and I was still hating on country music--and you're hearing about the baptism of a formerly broken man. I love that. Nobody's perfect. Country music is where it's okay to admit that.

And finally, a few of the country songs I can never get enough of..."Where I Come From" by Montgomery Gentry, "Wagon Wheel" by Darius Rucker, "Poison & Wine" by The Civil Wars, "Free" by Zac Brown Band, and "Would You Go With Me" by Josh Turner. And, just because it almost perfectly describes my new attitude toward the whole genre, "Songs About Me" by one of the only "real" country artists I've always loved, Trace Adkins.

How else do I end this post?

'Merica.