Play Somethin' Country!

Whenever I'm having a horrible day, whether it seems that the sky is spitting on my head, I've apparently gone on an expedition to the Arctic but no one bothered to tell me, I somehow manage to forget to shave on the day I choose to wear a sleeveless tank and crops to yoga or various other WGPs, there is one cure that I turn to, time and again.

Country music.

Brad Paisley. Yum.

I don't want to get too into specifics, because I have plenty of "I Go Back" moments with specific songs (Kenny will FOREVER be associated with springtime on my sorority lawn, for example), but as a whole, I think country as a genre hearkens back to good times. Judging from my post this morning, I could use some good times right about now.... and have thus broken out the Chesney Channel on Pandora!

Let me be the first to admit, I didn't always like country -- in fact, I downright hated it during my mom's "country phase" when I was an early teen. She was big into Reba and Garth; I was obsessed with Brian Littrell and Britney Spears. My friend and coworker, Ratmaster Rachel, used to take a verbal onslaught from me for her love of country ... but she was from the sticks of New Hampshire (yes, we have subdivisions of stickiness up there), so it was always understood that I was just teasing and she had earned the right to rock out with Two Pina Coladas (one for each hand). Secretly, though, I was kind of into Shania, and Faith Hill didn't piss me off so much, especially since "This Kiss" was my unofficial song with the boy that I tried to win back. Girl power, indeed.

It was college, really, that got my boots a'scootin'. More specifically, it was my sorority sisters (I promise the affiliation-outing post is coming; it's the most-asked question I get via email and comments!). On Bids Day, cruisin' around campus in what would become my Big's convertible, she blasted, "Mrs. Steven Rudy", and I couldn't stop laughing because it was easily the most ridiculous song I'd heard to that point. A few semesters later, I owned a legitimate cowboy hat, a jean skirt and a bunch of plaid button-downs, and while I still preferred Eminem and Journey for raids (socials), I routinely engaged in shower sing-a-longs with Brad and Toby, Carrie and Shania (this was pre-Taylor, and now I am dating myself... oh wait, you all know exactly how old I am anyway). Somehow, no matter what the trouble du jour was, those crazy hicks always managed to make me smile.

Darius Rucker at CountryFest last summer

Some things, thankfully, never change. As I sit here, writing about these ridiculous times, lyrics and overall fluffliness of the music (no sad songs need apply on a day like today... as I listen to "Home" by Blake Shelton. Do as I say, not as I do), my mood has definitely lifted. I no longer want to scream, cry and just punch a wall until it surrenders.

I do, however, want a Slurpee. And maybe a hamburger. And possibly some of these babies:

Love it.

So, tell me: Country -- love it, or hate it? What's your favorite genre of music? Do you prefer specific ones over another, or are you a rebel, like me, who likes a little of everything? 


For the record: I hate Rascal Flatts. Hate. Especially "These Days," which has it's very own IGB story (it's a doozy, involving being a pseudo-stalker during The Rebound and maybe listening to it on repeat while browsing Facebook. Then I boiled a rabbit). And don't get me started on the "Life is a Highway" remake for Cars. Even Lightning McQueen couldn't save that one.