this is country music

i started reading cash: the autobiography of johnny cash several nights ago and am fully smitten. the man wrote like he spoke - straightforward, candidly and with no frills. i love when you can actually hear someone in their writing style. johnny's words were tempered with gratitude for everything around him - june, his family, "the gift" (his mom's moniker for his voice), health, happiness, jamaica (where he spent much of his time) and his upbringing. early on, i was struck by his observation in chapter two:

i was talking with a friend of mine the other day: that country life as I knew it might really be a thing of the past and when music people today, performers and fans alike, talk about being "country," they don't mean they know or even care about the land and the life it sustains and regulates. they're talking more about choices - a way to look, a group to belong to, a kind of music to call their own. which begs a question: is there anything behind the symbols of modern "country," or are the symbols themselves the whole story? are the hats, the boots, the pickup trucks, and the honky-tonking poses all that's left of a disintegrating culture? back in arkansas, a way of life produced a certain kind of music. does a certain kind of music now produce a way of life? maybe that's okay. i don't know. i wonder how many people have ever filled a cotton sack. i wonder if they know that before i became 'not country' in the '90s, their predecessors were calling me 'not country' in the '50s and the '60s and the '70s too (i was invisible in the 80s)

since my musical taste breaks down to 35% chris brown, 55% country music, 10% other, i've legitimately given a lot of thought to the content of the hillbilly tunage i'm filling my ears with. and i totally understand what johnny is saying. did lady antebellum really "grow up on the side of the road where church bells ring and strong love grows"? did brad paisley actually know a "perfect little path" where he "used to hunt" so he can check me for ticks? is faith hill truly a "mississippi girl"? these questions may not plague you while listening to the soft strains of lil wayne or lady gag-me but they haunt me. okay, that's not true, but i do find myself wondering on a daily basis if they sing from experience or if they're just singing about they're cheating wife, drinking beers, lakeside sunsets and Lord and Savior to sell records. all while wearing Rock & Republics and a $199 plaid shirt. these are just the ponderings of a wandering mind. if you read yesterday's post you now know that i have a lot of time on my hands to contemplate such matters (: my point being, it may not be important to you but give a sharper listen the next time your favorite tune sneaks on the airwaves. show some serious love to those artists that sing from a place of truth and reality, no matter the genre.

20 years

Lately I've been on a political auto/biography jag - first Ted Kennedy's True Compass, then G.W.'s Decision Points, Karl Rove's Courage & Consequence and now Reagan's Presidential diaries. Amazingly, Reagan recorded the only daily Presidential diary in American history. That's nearly 3,000 entries! It's astounding to read who he met with, what he struggled with and how heavy the responsibility of leading the country was. I've always had a soft spot for Ronald Reagan - he was President when Yours Truly was born, embodied the rugged West & Old Hollywood, died of Alzheimer's like my sweet grandma and had an unshakeable love affair with his wife Nancy. Several weeks ago I came across an old letter from Reagan to Nancy on the occasion of their 20th anniversary. A picture of the letter is below but I've also transcribed it since the handwriting's a bit hard to make out. Be prepared to have your heart warmed...

"My Darling Wife,

This note is to warn you of a diabolical plot entered into by some of our so called friends (ha!), calendar makers and even our own children. These and others would have you believe we’ve been married 20 years.

20 minutes maybe – but never 20 years. In the first place it is a known fact that a human cannot sustain the high level of happiness I feel for more than a few minutes – and my happiness keeps on increasing.

I will confess to one puzzlement but I’m sure it is first some trick perpetuated by our friends – (ha again!) I can’t remember ever being without you and I know I was born more than 20 minutes ago.

Oh well – that isn’t important. The important thing is I don’t want to be without you for the next 20 years, or 40, or however many there are. I’ve gotten very used to being happy and I love you very much indeed.

Your Husband of 20 something or other."

via

Isn’t that just swoon-worthy? I love letters. They’re a tangible record of so many things – love found, love lost, adventures, sadness, growth and much more. In the past year, my mister and I have written nearly 200 letters back and forth and I honestly don’t think I’d know certain things or parts of him had we not initiated a snail mail campaign. So, I have an offer for you, dear reader. Let's keep the Postal Service in business. Leave a comment with your address or email it to me (kbarnes@spu.edu) and I will write you a letter or send you a pretty card! I’m curious to see how many people will take me up on my offer. Don’t hesitate! Even if you don’t know me well! I have some time off in the near future and what better way to fill it than with letter writing? To make it even better, I've got some Ronald Reagan stamps burning a hole in my pocket so it'll have the face of a hopelessly romantic President on it too (:

date a girl who reads...

via weheartit

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by God, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

— Rosemary Urquico (via oh, mishka)