Okay. Confession time.
Are you ready for this one?
*takes deep breath…swallows the lump of nerves in his throat…exhales*
Okay. Here it goes.
I like country music.
Okay?! There, I said it!
Now before you all run screaming from the blog, let me clarify that statement. I like certain country singers and certain country songs (George Strait, above all). Honestly, I fell out of touch with all modern music oh, around the mid-nineties. If I hear anything new, it’s by pure happenstance.
Like the other night. I was having a basement dance party with my three little choppers (7, 5, and 2), and to find some music by which to groove we were surfing through the free cable channels on television. A song by Josh Turner called “Time Is Love” came on, and while I liked the tune, I loved the lyrics. My favorite part:
“I only get so many minutes
Don’t wanna spend ’em all on the clock
In the time that we spent talkin’
How many kisses have I lost?”

And one more great bit:
“Time is love, gotta run
Love to hang out longer but I’ve got someone
Who waits, waits for me and right now
She’s where I need to be, time is love, gotta run”
So there you have it. Pretty straightforward, but pretty supportive of my theory that we need to love our loved ones every moment that we can. It won’t surprise you that I think not only of my wife (and of course I think of her) when I listen to those lyrics but also of my children. Some say that time is money, and while I like money—too much, I’m sure—I love my family.
Time is indeed love. Here’s a link where you can hear the song…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fefu8tca4EY
Have yerselves a good night, pardners!
As a New Yorker, I can admit, with some trepidation that I’ll have to turn in my NY membership card, that I’m a country fan, too. I like the old bastards like Cash and Hank Williams and Merle Haggard. For the modern stuff, I’m a huge Gretchen Wilson fan. Saw her in concert last year. That girl kicks ass.
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I used to get into Hank Jr. (his original greatest hits, mainly), but my tastes tend to run toward the big guns of the late eighties and early nineties: George Strait, Alabama, Brooks & Dunn, Garth Brooks, Sammy Kershaw, Randy Travis, Clint Black, and others of that ilk. But I need to check out Cash and the other godfathers of twang. I’m sure I’d enjoy some of their stuff. As for Wilson? I’m embarrassed to say I’ve never heard of her. It sounds like she’s good, though.
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