The Hillbilly Within

Ruanita and I watched the Academy of Country Music awards last night on TV. I grew up surrounded by country music. Years and years ago, I made a promise to myself that I would never listen to country music. I hated country music. I used to have really "cool" tastes in music....at least in my opinion. I listened to alternative, angsty, pessimistic, dark music. It made me feel intellectual...smarter than my hillbilly counterparts. Then Lucas was born and completely ruined me. For some inexplicable reason, the birth of my first child caused me to seek out music that was simpler, less dark, less pessimistic about the state of our world. How could I listen to music that raged against The Man when holding that beautiful, blonde, little dimpled bundle of sheer joy. Country music captured my heart. It was lively, happy...it seemed to celebrate life. I mean, who doesn't feel their heart sore a bit when singing a song about beer and booze and boats and babes?!

In addition to the sheer happiness of country music, I believe my unexpected attraction to this genre had more than a little bit to do with my sudden realization that my children are going to grow up Midwesterners. They will not be Southerners. Regardless of anything I do, they will not be Kentuckians. I have nothing against Midwesterners...some of my best friends are Minnesota born and bred. However, I began to develop a nostalgia for my Southern roots. I began to embrace the hillbilly within. I started feeling an overwhelming desire to go barefoot....eat fried bologna sandwiches...drink RC Cola...play poker...yell out a rousing 'yee-ha!" I began listening to country music seven years ago and have never looked back. It makes me happy.

I am seriously thinking about buying a cowboy hat. Would I look ridiculous?