First, a little background. I like many different kinds of music. But when I was growing up in the 80s, my favorite bands were Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, the Rolling Stones, the Beatles, and a variety of hair metal bands like Metallica and even that silly guilty pleasure called Judas Priest. (Question: is it still “hair metal” even though the band members are now losing their hair? Hmm…) I was pretty much a rock and roll guy. Sure, I listened to the occasional country tune, but never really followed the scene.
It was during my college years that I began to appreciate country. There was a dirty hole-in-the-wall called Harry’s Bar where my friends and I liked to congregate and consume excessive amounts of adult beverages. Harry’s was a converted automotive garage, the sort of lovable dump where you could drop a glass beer bottle on a concrete floor and no one would mind. (Seriously!) In addition to the worst billiard tables known to man and random free shots of tequila (personally administered by Harry himself), Harry’s offered a brilliant old school jukebox stocked with your grandfather’s country music. No pretty girl fluffy fluff. We’re talking about grizzled old veterans like Willie Nelson and George Jones. When that jukebox started pumping out the right country tunes, it was magic. There’s something about hearing George Jones singing from a jukebox that, even today, that gives me the uncontrollable urge to guzzle a pitcher of cheap domestic beer.
Then I got married. Although I (sadly?) stopped hanging out at places like Harry’s Bar, I began listening to even more country music. That’s because my wife loves country music. She buys the albums. She watches the awards shows. She knows about all the artists and seems to have memorized the lyrics of all the latest songs. She has increased my aptitude for country and I guess I like it more every year. While I don’t profess to be an expert, I now can distinguish between Miranda Lambert and Carrie Underwood.
Funny thing about the Internet – you never know who might be out there reading and watching your stuff. A few months ago, I got an email from this fellow. He wrote, “I’ve been following you guys for a couple of years now. I’m the drummer in the country band Lonestar. Let me know if you are ever near one of our shows and we’ll get together.”
“Hey Kristy,” I said. “I just got an email from this guy in a country band. Do you know Lonestar?” Read More
When Kristy and I travel in our Airstream, we become “part-time full-timers.” In other words, we are full-time Airstream travelers for an extended period of time. But (so far, anyway) we always return to the comfort of a house sans wheels. Our longest stretch full-timing in our 25-foot long tin can is five months. It’s [...]
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