I Just Had to Get Away

It’s time I fessed up and came clean as to why I left the the plains of the Southwest to come to Florida. It has nothing to do with cacti and tumbleweeds versus citrus and palm trees. Nor does it have anything to do with sand in my teeth versus ocean spray in my hair.

No, the real reason that I ran screaming from Texas and Oklahoma was to get away from the the gawdawful, nasal toned, whiny assed, country music that permeates the airwaves.

Really, I don’t care for it at all.

Once I was in a faraway city, dining at an inexpensive restaurant. I knew I was in a different part of the world because instead of that country crap bleating over the loudspeaker, soft jazz serenaded me

Really. Soft Jazz!

There’s a shield in my brain that blocks out musical caterwauling, and for once, while I was in that foreign land (ok it was Baltimore) I was able to lower it and let the soft melody wash over me. Could I stay here for the rest of eternity? I thought while I munched on my chicken thigh.

Before my brothers and sisters from the plains jump in with their speculations that I’m not a real Texan, I can produce a birth certificate that shows that my drawl is native born. However, I capitulate I may carry some genetic mutation that caused me to hate country music from the moment I was born. It may make me odd but I’m proud.
I have my musical preferences. I like classical, jazz, and even folk music. I like the pop rock of the sixties and seventies, but I skipped most of the music of the eighties since most of it sucked (c’mon, everybody knows this).

As a minister I was immersed in religious music: old hymns, pop Christian, and praise music. I’m done with all that. I will never utter another mindlessly repetitive “praise” song again. And I will never, ever sing “I’ll Fly Away” again. If by some cosmic joke, it is played at my funeral, I may not fly away but don’t be surprised if you see me rise from my casket and run screaming from my own memorial service.

I know I know. Everybody has their own tastes, but country is pretty much ALL you can find out in the, uh, country. That and preachin’. I needed something more.

We have all kinds of musicians in the Orlando area. On the weekend, Sylvia and I like to take our pick, usually some small venue that plays soft jazz. I love it.

However, you can also find c/w if that’s your pleasure. And I say more power to ye. But I won’t be with you because I’ll be down the road listening to some cool stuff. Just to show there’s no hard feelings and that I still love and respect all you country music loving folks, I leave you with this.