Two Things:

1. I like listening to country music when I'm driving. Without even considering the just awful alternative on the radio (except for you, NPR, and your cousin, the local-affiliate music show), Country and/or Western is storytelling music and, because of that, it helps to pass the time. Plus, driving along these back roads, slapping the steering wheel and singing along about beer drinking, sexy tractors and wrong-doing women, it just feels right (my mustache is coming in quite nicely, by the way. I'll fit in in no time).

(near London, KY)

2. On a related note, I had figured that my favorite little country sweetheart came out with a new album while I was in Africa, because of all that trouble with Kanye. That's about all I knew though. Then the other day, while I'm driving through Coal Country, West Virginia, home of all your favorite mountaintop-removing, stream-poisoning, State-Supreme-Court-Seat-Buying coal executives, this song comes on. The thing is, even though it was the first time I heard it, even though I didn't even know she had "new" music out, I knew it had to be my girl. Nobody else writes lyrics quite like this:

She wears short skits, I wear tee shirts,
She's cheer captain and I'm in the bleachers.

That's solid gold. I should probably be embarrassed for being such a fan of teenage girl music. I should probably be more embarrassed for recognizing her song-writing. I should definitely be too embarrassed to admit all this publicly. But you know what? Whatever. She can write a mean song. Ask any teenage girl.

(Cumberland Falls, KY)


  1. OH no, the mustache is back!

    And P.S. nice photography work on that top pic.


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