15 February 2011

I don't even like whiskey

Yes, okay?!  Melissa, Lisa, and Nick--you can say 'I told you so' in celebration.  I am on board.   I am hesitant but honest to admit that I caught it.  That bug I have denied and avoided for years. It's bitten me:

The country music bug.

I know, I know.

Let me preface: I am an avid country line dancer.  Since I was 18, I spent pretty much every Thursday night at The Roost, a line dancing club in my hometown.  I lived for my Thursdays.  It's great fun, by the way-- I believe everyone should try it at least once.  Anyway, you, like many people who I tell about my country line dancing ways, may ask, "so you like country music?"  NO.

Why?  I could encompass all country music into 3 words: twang, tractors, whiskey.  I found it annoying to sit and listen to.  Dancing to it, to me, is much different.  Plus, after 4 years of dancing to lots of the same songs, I comfortably grew a like and anticipation for the songs I heard at The Roost.  But after 2am, the country tunes were out of my hearing range as much as possible.  Until, of course, my sister started enjoying it outside of our Thursdays and I lost the fight over radio control.  "Sacrifice your ears for just a few minutes!" she would tell me.  The worst was when she, my older sister, and I took a road trip through the farmlands of a sweltering Kentucky this summer.  The two of them, who were living their country gal fantasies, insisted on opening the windows and blasting the twangiest of country music as we whizzed past cornfields and silos against a setting sun.  I should add that said twangy tunes were pretty much all we could find on the radio out there.  It was that or Jesus music.  I was opting for Jesus (a first in life).

Fast forward.

Symptoms began when I started stopping at the country station programmed in the car, abandoned when my sister moved away, instead of skipping over it completely.
Then I started recognizing songs.
Oh hey, Taylor Swift.  Your sad country ballads are adorable and incredibly catchy.
Then, I moved DC and had to program my local stations as a first order of business. As I scanned the waves, I came across a country station--and programmed it immediately without even thinking about it.    
And today, on my way home from work, I pressed my 2 preset button and found myself singing along: "rain makes corn, corn makes whiskey, whiskey makes my baby feel a little frisky ...".  And I was enjoying myself.  In that moment, I knew that my days of denying country music were over.

Why am I still ashamed?  Not sure.  But I promise from this day on to no longer grimace when somebody tells me how much they like country music.  I guess, by all means, I am one of them now.  Just don't ask me to join you at a Rascal Flatts, etc. concert.  Yet.

4 comments:

  1. this is my favorite entry to date. yeehaw!

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  2. Noooooo nooooo nooo! T swift doesnt count as country because she plays on Kiss stations. don't join the cult!!!

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  3. Glad to see you are in the fold

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  4. Oh the anonymous was actually me, Mrs. N
    Allison - so happy to see you so happy!

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