Monday, April 15, 2013

Country Girl, Shake It For Me

"The juice fast?"  I said with gravity.  Kelly remained unmoved.

"The two-hour hike, uphill both ways, in the mud?"  She shook her head slowly.

"The goddamned vegan diet that I stayed on for a solid MONTH?"  Nothing.  It was time to pull out the big guns.

"I went to a Michael Moore documentary with you and not ONCE did I loudly express my desire to jam a copy of the Bill of Rights up his fat ass!"

Kelly had to laugh.  "Yeah, but only because the crowd would have smelled Republican and been all over you like E.Coli on McSnack Wrap."  I opened my mouth to state my case further, but Kelly dismissed me with a wave of her hand.  "OK, Ann Coulter, you've made some valid arguments.  However, none of them come CLOSE to proving that I am indebted enough to actually attend a country music festival with you."

For those of you unaware of my musical ADHD, my tastes run the gamut from Leonard Cohen to Whitesnake to Justin Bieber.*


*Shut up.  "Boyfriend" has a totally slammin' backbeat and until the boy went batshit crazy apres-Selena, I had high hopes for the wee lad.  Sadly, as things now stand he's only one bong hit away from going the full Lohan.

But while I am one who doesn't believe in bedazzling their bullshit, and is therefore quite open about my complete lack of musical sensibilities, I am still loathe to admit my love for country music.  While I know it is a genre that has come into it's own over the years. . .*

*Thanks for that, Garth Brooks.  Although I think you're an adulterous douchecanoe with the morals of an alleycat in heat, you ARE the one who brought country to the mainstream in 1989, so, snaps for that.  But I still hate your face.

. . .there is still a miasma of shame that surrounds it.  As such, I know that despite my mad love for House of Pain and old school Dre and my eerie ability to quote Tupac and Snoopp, I'm duly aware that my collection of Miranda Lambert and Sugarland CD's makes my gangsta street cred sink faster than a mob informant in the East River.  But, I'd been offered free passes to the Willamette Country Music Festival in August and to be honest, the only thing I value higher than my dignity and self-respect is free shit, so hi-ho, hi-ho, 'tis off to the Country Fest I go, y'all.  But only if I could find a willing accomplice.

Kelly squinted at me skeptically.  "They aren't going to make me line-dance, are they?"  

"Umm, hi.  1992 called, they want their scrunchies and their Billy Ray Cyrus mullet back"  I said, rolling my eyes.  "Are you shitting me? Nobody line-dances any more!"

"Thank God!"  Kelly cried.  "Line-dancing always seemed just a little too much like masturbation: sure, it might feel good, but it's fraught with shame and should never be performed outside the  privacy of your own home."

I nodded in agreement.  "Personally, I never liked line-dancing because of my natural aversion to following instructions.  'Step left, then right, then kick, then stomp...'  Yeah, you know who else liked dressing up in matching hats and stomping in unison?  Nazis.  So. . .fuck you."

"Wow."  Kelly said in astonishment.  "only you could turn 'Achy-Breaky Heart' into a statement on protofacism."

I grinned smugly.  "And my parents thought those political science classes were a total waste of money.  Who's laughing now, yo?"

"Oh, SURELY not YOUR parents."  Kelly snorted.  "I doubt a day goes by when they aren't thrilled to have subsidized your highly marketable degree in political science and art history.  But, hey!  At least you learned how to do the Boot Scootin' Boogie, so that was money well spent."

I snorted with derision.  "What makes you think I know how to line dance?'

Kelly shrugged and flipped her glossy dark hair over one shoulder.  "You went to a land-grant university that's walking distance from a Mennonite community, what else is there to do?"

Oh, HELL to the NO she did not just start talking smack about my alma mater.  "ExCUSE me!"  I cried indignantly.  "Not all of us went to some hippy-dippy hairy armpit liberal arts college.  I'll have you know that Oregon State University has one the top pharmacy AND veterinary programs in the country, is the very site where alumni Linus Pauling did his seminal research on vitamin C, and also boasts such graduates as the founders of E*TRADE, U-Haul, as well as four state governors, five U.S. Representatives, and two U.S. Secretaries of the Interior!"*

*BAM!  Suck it.

Kelly acknowledged this silently.  "Isn't Oregon State where the maraschino cherry was invented?'

"Yeah," we're not as proud of that one."  I shrugged.  "My point is, we weren't just sitting around drinking PBR and tipping cows on a Friday night, so you shouldn't just assume that I know how to line-dance."

Kelly smirked.  "But you totally do, don't you."

"Pfft!  Like a boss."

Kelly hooted triumphantly.  "OK, Taylor Swift, let's see you bust a move!"

"I'll do you one better,"  I grinned, standing up and gesturing Kelly toward the middle of the room.  "C'mon, you're getting your first lesson."

"Ha!"  Kelly snorted.  "You are higher than Charlie Sheen snorting Amy Winehouse's ashes if you think my boots are scooting ANYWHERE across that floor."

I rolled my eyes and stared down Kelly's stubborn gaze.  "You owe me after talking smack about my alma mater."  She twisted her lips remorsefully and I grinned with triumph.  "Yeah, that's right, feel the guilt."

Kelly sighed and shook her head sadly.  "I'm not getting out of here until I do this, am I?"

"Nope!"  I smirked.  "So, in the immortal words of the great poet, Jay-Z:  'Get out your seat, 'ho.'"

Thus resigned, Kelly slowly rose to her feet.  "You DO realize that this level of shame is what caused me to start drinking in the first place, right?"

"Ooh!  That reminds me!"  I cried, Kelly's humiliation sliding to the back burner.  "Obviously we won't be drinking but you need to be 21 to get into some venues at the Festival, so don't forget your ID."

Kelly stared at me as one does a mentally challenged toddler.*

*But I get that a lot, so, you know. . .no big whoop.

"Jen,"  she said slowly,  I'm 40 years old and have crow's feet deeper than a Nietzsche tenet. Unless Stevie Wonder and Andrea Bocelli are manning the door, I really don't think that lack of ID will be an issue."

I bounced up and down in excitement.  "No!  That's the best part; they card EVERYONE! Their security is so tight the make the TSA at Tehran International Airport look like freaking Wal-Mart greeters!"

Kelly squinted at me judiciously.  "So, for the honor of being asked to prove my age of majority, all I have to do is put on some boots and pretend I don't want to punch Darius Rucker in the neck for the whole 'Hootie-to-hoedown' debacle?"

"Yup."  I said with a nod.  

I watched as a slow grin crept across Kelly's face.  "Well then, slap my ass and call me Loretta Lynn."  she cried, following me to the center of the living room.  "Let's do this thing!"

5. . .6. . .7. . .8. . .


xoxo, y'all!
Jen














9 comments:

mistyslaws said...

You know, I never got into the line dancing thing. I guess because I got into country music a bit late. That whole trend had pretty much passed. But I still love me some country. Who's playing at this countryfest?

TheChickIsRight said...

I wish I could say that I liked country... I do like the occasional song... and even appreciate some of the old school stuff (Johnny Cash had an awesome voice) But as a whole, I just can't commit to the genre. Not sure why.

My music tastes are a bit schizo as well, so I can totally relate. Enya rocks my world, but then, so does Rob Zombie. I like the Grease soundtrack almost as much as I like Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. My work-out playlist has everything from Pat Benatar and Depeche Mode to Awolnation and N'Sync. It really all depends on my mood, I guess. But I do love to listen to it. :-)

Thank you for another great post.

Jaime S said...

we've all been down the dirty country road before... I blame cowboys for looking so hot in those hats.

Jennifer Clark said...

"Don't laugh, but I've been listening to a lot of country music these days," said Number One Daughter, a poli-sci major at CalPoly. "I want to be able to connect with my future constituents."

True story. Dear god....

Linda Roy said...

I like the old school country but got into the newer stuff for a little bit. Trisha Yearwood, Martina McBride, et al. But it was too damn sad. I cried through every song. Grandma's buried under the back porch with the family dog and my honey died under the wheels of a pick up truck while on a drinking spree.

But give me some Hank Williams, Johnny Cash or Willie Nelson. Hoo wah.

thoughtsappear.com said...

But...but...the Cupid Shuffle is line dancing! I prefer that kind f dancing because I know I look just as stupid as everyone else.

Jeri said...

WOOOOO, HOOOOOOOOOOOO, I love country and if Blake Shelton leaves Miranda...I get DIBS!

Pat said...

"Old" country music is country. The problem with "new" country is its just a bunch of people who couldn't make it in rock; very little of it is truly country (twanging and grandma/dead dog/truck references aside). And line dancing is just a bad acid flashback to the disco era with a different soundtrack.

Valerie said...

Wow! Country music AND Justin Bieber? I totally didn't see that coming!!

Hugs!

Valerie