Confessions Part II

On August 25th, I wrote my first blog post. I was trying to be experimental. It was lame. But a very funny thing happened after throwing some of my thoughts on the internet: people noticed.

The night after I started a blog I went bar hopping with some of my cousins. We walked into a bar after midnight and saw a crew of my friends. For the first time in my life I heard these words from not one, but three of my friends "Hey Grant! I read your blog." Wait, what? In the next week I gained "followers." Almost a month later, I read this in a friend's email "I'm real pissed you haven't made a 2nd post yet" and this in one this week "your lack of blog posts is sad." All of this drew me to one conclusion, I had gained an audience.

So here is the question, what do people normally do with an audience? For that, I turn to my favorite US President of the late 90's, William Jefferson Clinton. They could perform. They could inspire. They could influence your opinion. They could flat out lie. Or they could confess.

Today, I choose the latter.

I like country music. I dig it.

To some of you, this might not be a surprise or even a real statement. To some of you, this could be absolute blasphemy. For either of you, here is a little story:

I was walking across campus the other day. Lookin fresh. Had that Eastman Swagger. Headphones in. Doin' my thang, ya know. I was listening to my Zac Brown Band Pandora Station and this little number came on. ("Letter to Me" by Brad Paisley, for those of you who haven't been opening these killer YouTube links) The song is about Brad Paisley talking to his 17 year old self. Basically, he tells himself to not make a few dumb mistakes and to get a little bit of perspective.

This got me thinking. I am like 12 years out of high school now, what would I say to myself back then?

Let's remove the obvious, cause there are certain things I would just have to say to my 2005 self:
- Buy stock of Google's IPO, Apple whenever you can, and Ford and GE in the Spring of 2009
- If there are Vegas odd's on Bin Ladin ever getting killed by American soldiers, take them when you turn 18
- Don't bother creating a MySpace account
- When you hear some guy named Barack Obama speak next summer, don't get up to go pee
- Take the green pill

That last one is more to freak myself out.

I'm not sure if I would tell myself the story about walking across campus and listening to country music. (Explaining Pandora and the fact I didn't get into an Ivy League school might be unrecoverable tangents) But I would tell myself this, stop judging things and people so hard. Judgement isn't getting you anywhere.

Sometime in late elementary school I decided I hated country music. Period. I'm talking "DAD! CHANGE the radio NOW!" hate for country. I made it a point to make fun of people any time they mentioned Rascal Flatts. I would groan at the top of my lungs to drown out the sound. I would cover my ears to make my point. I would claim certain music fit the country genre, just so I could take the opportunity to hate country.

When rebutted with a simple "What do you hate about it?" I would probably list some pretty absurd complaints. Most of them probably weren't really what I felt. Only one remains true: certain "twang" I just can't stand.

That sentiment is fine. I'm not here to say I love country music. I'm definitely not here to make you like it any more than you might now. Country music is not king. There is some I like and a lot I don't care for. But back in high school my hate for the idea of country music, stopped me from appreciating something I do like: the idea of country music.

I don't expect to ever write "You know, that LMFAO lyric got me thinking." I can't relate to "running through these hoes" or "be the first girl to make me throw this cash." When have those two activities ever been applicable to my life? But country music, I find completely relatable.

Behind a thick curtain of overt (sometimes blind) patriotism, an affinity for whiskey and saddling up horses, country music is plain and simply good. Some of the men who write these songs try too hard to seem simple. This hides the fact that there is a certain type of genius in their song writing.

If I put on country radio, I might hear about a coal miners daughter. But sometimes a mix of real human American emotion and clear imagery comes through the car stereo. When I hear this, I totally dig it. Makes me wonder what else I am missing.

So thanks Brad, Kenny, Jimmy, Toby, Willie, Tim, Darius, Jason and Zac. You get me thinking. You give me a little bit of perspective. You've surprised me a bit. Now if you could only teach me to feel a little less stupid wearing this cowboy hat...