Last night I was driving home with my girlfriend, listening to some music in the car. I'm trying to get into Country Music, which is a little tricky. As usual I've turned to the late '60s/early '70s for help. After joining the Byrds in 1968, Graham Parsons took the folk rockers in a wholly Country direction with "Sweetheart of the Rodeo" which is probably the most sincerly country recording I can honestly say I enjoy. You can hear the echos of psychedelia in the cuts, and you can hear what groups like My Morning Jacket and Magnolia Electric Company are digging on.
There we were, driving home in the dark, listening to Country Music, when a rather unmotivated Possum began a Street-Crossing manuever. Erin, as is her way when a borderline-cute animal is being threatened, covered her face with her hands and executed a brief squeal. Masterful break-work on my part spared the Possum's lazy life and we went on his way. For reference, this Possum was as large as Clark's pet corgi Annabelle.
We turned the corner into my neighborhood and Erin cried "What's that?" pointing to the side of the road. A Racoon was furtively darting from car to car. This Racoon, for reference purposes, was larger than Annabelle. We're not used to seeing nocturnal beasts, so I commented "Damn, the varmints are out tonight," to which Erin replied "It must be the Country Music."
For reference purposes, a Varmint is something that that is kilt by car, hound, or shotgun for skinning, eating, or leisure.
ReplyDeletei sometimes put on country music in the car, if you can suspend reality, it is quite enjoyable.
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