Help send Lanna Lee to Kansas!
When Fred runs errands in town, he uses my car. His car is better on gas than mine, but my car is bigger and will hold more bags of pig and chicken feed and stuff like that. When he uses my car, he leaves the seat all the way back (RUDE) and leaves the radio on the station he likes to listen to (also RUDE). Lately, he’s been listening to a radio station that plays old country songs.
He explained to me that he likes that station because “Back then, songs told a story and these days, songs really don’t.”
(Tell me more about the olden days, Methuselah!)
So I’ve been subjected to old country songs lately, because unless there’s a blithering idiot of a morning team on my radio, I don’t tend to notice what station it’s on unless there’s a particularly annoying song playing, whereupon I change the station. The old country songs station doesn’t have an annoying, unfunny morning team, just a DJ who mostly keeps his yap shut and plays music.
I was running errands last week, and half paying attention to the song on the radio, and then my brain kicked in, and I thought “Wait, what? What’s this song saying?”
My brain seemed to be under the impression that the plot of the song could be summarized like such: I got a letter from an old girlfriend who’s still hung up on me. She was all “Blah de blah” and asked me lots of questions, and then she said, all casual-like “Call me sometime, and oh by the way, are you still drinking these days? JUST CURIOUS!” So I called her up and managed to stumble over my words, but eventually told her that no, I wasn’t drinking any more. Then we hung up the phone and I was all “Grrr! I’m such a LIAR! How am I gonna tell her the truth? She DESERVES to know the truth for some reason!” I pondered and thought and pondered some more, and then I was all EUREKA! So I sent her wine-colored roses so she’d know I’m still on the sauce! So I did! And I guess she did! But this story has no follow-through, so it shall be left to the listener! I assume she was all “Roses, he loves me! But they’re WINE-COLORED! He’s still throwin’ ’em back! Le sob!” The end.
The more I thought about it, the more I was like “That is an utterly ridiculous – seriously? She gets wine-colored roses and is supposed to extrapolate from that that he’s still drinking? I think you heard that incorrectly, dummy, because you were only half-listening since the other half your brain was thinking about KITTENS. You got it wrong, I’m sure.”
Then I forgot about it for a few days, and one night at bedtime, Fred and I were talking about something, and I remembered and told him the plot as I remembered it. He laughed, and then after he went to bed, I searched for the lyrics (I remembered the “Wine-colored roses” part of the song), and voila.
Is it just me, or is George Jones being juuuuuust a little too subtle with the message-sending-through-rose-delivery? Because I feel that the old girlfriend could very likely be utterly THRILLED to find herself the recipient of roses, and the color (which some of we ignorant types might just refer to as “reddish-purple”) might go right over her head. She might be all “Roses! He DOES still love me back!” and then start planning their wedding. So he’s all “Hmm. She knows I’m drinking, and she’s A-OK with it!”, and she’s all “He’s not drinking any more (he told me so!), AND he sends me roses to show me that he loves me!”
Maybe once she discovers that he likes to send messages via rose color, she’ll learn to respond in kind. What color rose indicates “I’m leaving you for a richer (nondrinking) man”? Green?
No, wait. I think green indicates “You gave me herpes.”
By the by, if you’re ever looking for a country song that is EXCELLENT for singing along to, one that’s SUPER twangy and country, you can’t do better than D-I-V-O-R-C-E. I discovered that I know every damn word to that song, and sang it at the top of my lungs in the shower the other morning. Gotta love Tammy.
DEE-AH-VEE-OH-ARRR-SEE-EEEEEEEEEEEE BECAME FAHNAL TODAYYYYYYYYY! ME AN’ LIT-TUHL JAY-OH-EEEEE WEEL BEEE GO-IN’ A-WAYYYYY!
PS: This is just a little Peyton Place and you’re all Harper Valley hypocrites.
PPS: Someone needs to remake that one and tell the Harper Valley PTA to go fuck themselves.
Previously
2011: I swear to god it’s about time to turn on the closed captioning when I watch TV.
2010: Oh skimmers, why can’t I quit you?
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: No, my number one concern is that a woman, somewhere in Alabama, might have purchased a device to ensure that she’s able to get off.
2006: The stinkin’ kitten is not so cute!
2005: Annnnnnnnd that’s just a little glimpse into the dorkiness that is my life.
2004: ARRRGH.
2003: No entry.
2002: Wow. Apparently I’ve been doing the pet store thing for three years now.
2001: Day Zero.
2000: I’m back!