Friday, February 6, 2015

"You can take the girl out of the country...

But you can't take the country out of the girl."
I grew up in a neighborhood literally on the other side of the city limit sign. When I was 14, we moved to the country on my grandparent's land. The highlight of my summers was going to Granny's to shell peas at six a.m. In my mind, I was country because I wanted to be. I'd always asked to live in the country. Mostly because I wanted horses and an acre backyard in the city would not suit. I never got horses anyway because father knows best. I was too busy with cheerleading and soccer to take care of a horse, then I'd be going to college and daddy assured me he wouldn't be left taking care of it. Instead, he now takes care of my two cats and one dog instead of a horse (which is still substantially cheaper and easier).
Back to the story...
When I tell people I'm from Louisiana (15 minutes from Texas), and they hear my accent they assume I'm a cowgirl or a racist. Neither of which are true (obviously). For us southerners, we realize there are several categories of country people. 
The most well-known would be cowboys. The real McCoy's: the rodeo clowns, the rise when the rooster crow kind, goosenecks full of cattle and John Deeres.
Then you have your country folk; farm bred, grow their own and tow their own, but not so backwoods they stand out in society. They can sew a button or stitch on a patch quick. They enjoy the quiet life where crickets sound outside of windows instead of car horns.
Then you have your rednecks. Stereotypically known for being racist (which isn't always true). The four-wheeler ridin', tobacco chewin' (and spittin'), beer drinkin', rough n' tough type.
Lastly, you have your white trash. They need no explanation.
Regardless of what kind of country you are, each has one quality from the other. In the end, we all prefer the woods to the mall, boots to heels, blue jeans to slacks, fried to baked and of course, the country to the city.
There are also many categories of southern, but that's not relevant to this post. 
Back home, I know at least one person from each of these "kinds of country." People who are not country hear us talk and it's like we speak another language. They don't understand the slang and isms. They also don't understand why we prefer cold beer (in a can) to wine in a glass. They don't understand why we love songs about drinkin', fishin', trucks, tight fittin' jeans or 'Murica.'
The songs are who we are. People relate to their music of choice (for the most part). I hate when people stereotype country music as nothing more than drinkin', trucks, etc. For the most part it is, but remember the audience country music is directed toward. I'll be the first to admit that I hate most mainstream music because it is now pop country, but, it still speaks to someone. And, just like the people, in the music, there is also "kinds of country." It's the twang, the steel guitars and all the other familiar sounds that make country music. The artists we learn to love and the few newbies we accept for making a feel good summer hit. Anyway... I'm getting distracted again.
Anyone who knows me knows I'm a music addict. I constantly have headphones in and if I don't I need music playing. The silence disturbs me.
I've been super homesick for the past two weeks. I don't miss my family and friends (anymore than I have for the past seven months), but I miss my country. And I don't mean America. I mean my happy place. I miss crickets. I miss fishing with my daddy in the warm summer sun. Hell, I just miss the sun. I miss fresh green grass and trees. I miss the random sounds of shotguns fired in the woods. Most of all, I miss being barefoot. I hate shoes!
This blog is a hodgepodge of thoughts but it all blossomed when I was so homesick the other day I did the "Boot Scootin' Boogie" in my bedroom. Alone. :)




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