Heel, Toe, Docie Doe Come On Baby Let's Go Shoot Ourselves

It's no secret to those who know me that I don't like country music. Like really. Our radio at work gets in two channels, three if I'm really lucky but usually the third only comes in for about an hour before it fuzzes out. The two channels that come in loud and proud and for days at a time, are the country station and the Jesus channel. So, after I get good and depressed from listening to the country station I get to switch it over to the Jesus station and get healed. Yay.

I turn the radio on because I'm the only one in the office all night on 3rd shift. The background noise keeps me company. Usually I try to keep it down to where it's just a mumble and I don't have to pay attention to what's being played or said. Because our radio is as temperamental as a premenstrual 16 year old, the volume goes up and down as it pleases. This means I don't always get to ignore what's on.

If I can't get a third, more normal station tuned in on the radio, I usually turn it on the country station. This is mostly because the Jesus channel only seems to have 12 songs, to match the 12 apostles, I guess, that they play every hour. That gets real old, real fast. The Jesus channel also annoys me because they, like every church service I've ever been too, ask for money all the time. How bizarre and completely inappropriate. As you can imagine they don't play those anti-satellite radio commercials that go "radio--it should be free", but it would be hilarious if they did.

The country station depresses me. Bad. I can't tell you how many nights I've had it on at work, I've heard a word or two of a song and I'm suddenly googling it to find out what the songs about. I really have no idea why I do this because I know what it's going to be about; either someone dies, or their kid grows up and becomes an adult, gets married, has babies of their own and whatnot. That's it. Yes I know there are the others that are about partying and drinking but those don't catch my attention. If anything they catch my anti-attention and I tune them out. I really don't care to know that you're here for the party or that she has a honky tonk padunkadunk. Good for you that you can put away a twelve pack without even putting down your baby. I'm happy as hell for you.

So I google the song, read the lyrics and now I'm crying. Suddenly I'm the subject of the song and I'm an 85 year-old woman in a nursing home who doesn't know where she is but remembers her long lost love when he walks in the door. Or, maybe I'm the single mother with 8 babies who is struggling to put food on the table and then dies of a broken heart.

Every time I finish reading the lyrics to one of these songs several things run through my mind.

1. What the hell were you thinking looking up these lyrics? They always make you cry you big dummy!

2. God! Who writes this stuff? I bet it's some pasty white 30 year-old walking around wearing all black and mumbling to themselves.

3. I've gotta get a different station on this radio

Here's the part I find ironic. The people who listen to country music, and I'm really only talking to the ones that listen to it exclusively and are HUGE country music fans, are usually the first ones to put down metal and goth music and the people that listen to it. They describe it as "dark" and "depressing" most likely without even listening to the lyrics. Sounds hypocritical to me coming from someone who listens to a lot of songs about death, binge drinking and sick kids.

So last night I'm at work, listening to the country station and I think some sort of national radio show is on. They are interviewing some well-known country singer and he's talking about how great George Jones is. Then I hear this well-known country singer say in his best country twang, "I've been singing George Jones songs since before I could talk." and he wasn't trying to be facetious. He was being serious. The DJ said, "No kidding. Wow."

Seriously? You want me to believe that before you could form simple words like dada and mama you were singing things like "He Stopped Loving Her Today"????? Suddenly pictures flash in my mind of that baby on those E*Trade commercials. Some chunky bald baby sitting in a high chair, covered in pureed green beans singing about honky tonks and beer. I hate the country station.