Showing posts with label Country Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Country Music. Show all posts

Sunday, May 3, 2015

In Which I Discover George Strait is a Master of Quantum Physics

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I'm going to do something very unusual on this blog today.

Some of you may be familiar with my "Why Music Sucks Now" posts, but while this post will focus on music, it will not be focused on horrible music. Actually the song and artist I'm discussing today are both amazing.

You are familiar, I am sure, with George Strait. I am sure you're also familiar with his hit song, "I Can Still Make Cheyenne."

I guess the video won't play through the blog because UMG is a bunch of ninnies, but click on through and familiarize yourselves.

I have a mind-bubbling theory about this song. It occurred to me whilst driving down the road the other day, and hit me so hard I almost had a wreck.

Here's the theory:

Only the first thirty seconds of this song actually happened. Everything after is a fictional representation of an imagined 'worst case' scenario that played out in her mind immediately after picking up the phone. 

So let's break the song down before we go on.

Scene is set at a house, the phone rings, it's late, the woman's man-friend is on the line. He's had a hard go at the local rodeo, and he failed to qualify for the next round. Tired and beat up, he decides he's coming home.

But alas, while he has been out riding bulls and carousing with cheap women (probably) his significant other has taken another lover, and he "sure ain't no rodeo man." She tells her man-friend not to bother coming home, that she'll be leaving and won't be coming back.

Saddened, but not surprised, the man-friend simply says, "It's totes cool, babydoll, I'd leave me too, but I gotta go, cause there's a rodeo up in Wyoming and I think I can get there if I leave RIGHT THIS SECOND."

Then there's some driving, the chorus again, and before you know we hit the end of the song, which repeats the first few lines.

She never knew what his calls might bring,
With a cowboy like him, it could be anything. 
And she always expected the worst in the back of her mind.

And there we have it. Those three lines give us all we need to know that almost the entire song has been a figment of her imagination, which played out in the span of a few seconds between her answering the phone and him leaving the phone dangling off the hook.

Confused? So was I at first.

You see, she was so worried about what he might say when she picked up the phone, that she subconsciously created a scenario in which he told her he was coming home, and she told him she'd found someone else (she hadn't, really, it was a test, women always come up with these little tests) and he didn't even bother hanging up, didn't get mad, just said, "Baby that's cool, I gotta bounce though."


She always expected the worst in the back of her mind

Him not caring about her leaving is the worst thing she can think of.

So George, the master of Inception-esque temporal physics it would seem, has basically sung us a three minute ballad the equivalent of Bruce Willis being dead the whole time.

So, if you were as concerned as I always was for this tragedy of a romance, take heart, it never actually happened. The whole thing was a dream.

That's my theory and I'm sticking to it.

Also, as a complete side note here, there's no way George Strait and I aren't related somehow. You put a hat on me and there's virtually no difference in our looks. Uncanny really.


Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Ahem. What? (Oh. And Why Music Still Sucks.)

So I'm driving down the road the other day, and I am listening to some country music, because that's what The Missus had on in the car, and lets be honest. Changing the radio station takes movement, unless you've got one of those new fancy jobs, and I just didn't have it in me. (TWSS)

I'd just finished listening to Garth talk about being lonely, drinking some beers, and cheating on his wife with a 650 pound Trisha, (I would still totally do her) and I was looking forward to more wholesome country music, when I heard this:

I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand
Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand
Life is good today. Life is good today.

Well, the plane touched down just about 3 o’clock
And the city’s still on my mind
Bikinis and palm trees danced in my head
I was still in the baggage line
Concrete and cars are their own prison bars like this life I’m living in
But the plane brought me farther.
I’m surrounded by water
And I’m not going back again

I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand
Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand
Life is good today. Life is good today.

Adios en vaya con dios
Yeah I’m leaving GA
And if it weren’t for tequila and pretty senoritas
I’d have no reason to stay
Adios en vaya con dios
Yeah I’m leaving GA
Gonna lay in the hot sun and roll a big fat one
And grab my guitar and play

Four days flew by like a drunk Friday night as the summer drew to an
They can’t believe that I just couldn’t leave
And I bid adieu to my friends
Because my bartender she’s from the islands
Her body’s been kissed by the sun
And coconut replaces the smell of the bar and I don’t know if its her or
the rum

I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand
Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand
Life is good today. Life is good today.

Adios en vaya con dios
A long way from GA
Ay, and all the muchachas they call me “big poppa” when I throw
pesos their way
Adios en vaya con dios
A long way from GA
Hey boss do me a favor and pass me the Jaeger
And I’ll grab my guitar and play

Adios en vaya con dios
Going home now to stay
The senoritas don’t care-o when there’s no dinero
You got no money to stay
Adios en vaya con dios
Going home now to stay

Just gonna kick it by the lake
Put my ass in a lawn chair
Toes in the clay
Not a worry in the world a PBR on the way
Life is good today. Life is good today.


When did country music start being written by Snoop Doggy Da Dizzy Dizog? This song is by a band called The Zac Brown Band, and I've never heard of them, but I'm pretty sure it was produced by Death Row Records.

Once again, I'm going to break some things down for you. Because I am nothing if not family oriented and clean mouthed.

1. He says "ass" 4 times in this song. 4 TIMES! The last time I remember hearing the word ass in a country song, it was when Toby Keith took advantage of memorialized 9/11 by telling people we were gonna stick a boot up it. What happened then? Radio went bat shiz crazy. Said it "was just terrible." I'm sorry, but iffen I have a 5 year old, the first radio lyrics I want him learning are NOT "I'm gonna put my ass in the sand." And seriously guys, who really wants their ass in the sand? That gets sand in places you don't want it. And sand is HOT.

2. He's going to "roll a big fat one." Sweet Conway Twitty. What did he just say? Roll a big fat one? As in weed??? Geez. Do we need this on the radio? How many times have we heard drug references bleeped out on hip hop or rock songs? ALL THE TIME. "But Zac Brown wants to roll a fat one? Hell yes! Let's play it on the country stations! Bleep it out? What? This shit is WHOLESOME. Could be a homemade cigarette he wants to roll. Could be a cigar. Hell, it could be a crepe. We don't know, he doesn't say! Aww...shucks. It made us giggle, it'll make America giggle too."

3. He used the words "Big Poppa" in a country song. I've looked at the band, they're white. The only time white people should ever be allowed to use the words big poppa is when they are alone in their cars singing the ACTUAL song "Big Poppa," by the Notorious B.I.G. That's real. And yes, the proper etiquette is to turn the volume down if you pass a black person. Just like in the movie Office Space. 

4.  He uses French and Spanish words in the song. Those two languages mix well, don't they? Let's start mixing ALL things French and Mexican! We can have Spicy Chicken and Black Bean Crepes, or Snails in Mole Sauce. What about Poached Salmon Cevice? Yeah... That'll hit the spot... Come on Zac, stick to the Ingles, eh? Plus, he totally doesn't even say "Via Con Dios" right. Seriously. Listen to it. 

5. Why the hell is he getting away from Georgia? What's wrong with Georgia? Georgia frickin touches an ocean! I wish I was in Georgia right now. Peaches and shit, plus...Paula Frick Frackin Dean. If I'm in Georgia, I'm trackin her southern heiney down, and she's gonna cook me some lunch. And dinner. And then, I'm gonna become a Mormon, convince The Missus and Paula to become Mormons, then marry both of them. Talk about the best of both worlds. But in all seriousness. Can't the guy just roll up a fatty and watch a Baywatch episode and pretend he's at the beach? Isn't that how that works? I've never personally tried the drugs, so I don't know. I say again, what's wrong with Georgia? Come to Oklahoma. Put your ass in the sand here, and you'll get tetanus cut from one of our many broken bottles. That's real. 

I kind of focus grouped this blog yesterday with some teenagers here at the school. The general opinion of this song amongst kids 16 and under? It's the greatest thing since Miley Cyrus or The Jonas Brothers. Shiz has blown up, y'all. No one seems to care that the dude is promoted drug abuse and cussing like a sailor in what has long been regarded as "the music we can kind of let our kids listen to because it's not THAT bad..." Well, I have news for you. It's gotten that bad. No one is gang banging anyone yet, and that's cool, but still. While I was focus grouping yesterday, I threw out names like Hank Williams, Kenny Rogers, and Tammy Winette. Nothing. Crickets. No idea. This prompted me to make this graph for y'all. Because I'm nothing if not graph minded. 

This is so sad...