I’ve been in the house by myself more often in the last two weeks, and this allows me to approach the CD player without fear of being Melodyned to death and to listen to music that I want to listen to without offending my spouse’s sensitive ears and sensibilities. It most importantly allows me to give in to the high plains roots that I have. Did you know it was my first great crush’s (7th grade to summer between freshman and sophomore year) birthday this week? Facebook reminded me. This convergence gets me thinking about choices and growing up in South Dakota and imagining myself there now. What would I be like?
So I’ve been cranking up the music, adding in old favorites from the radio in Brookings back in the day as well as the ladies – Emmylou Harris, Nancy Griffith – Can I sing along? Does it make me a little misty? Well then, good stuff. John Hyatt, Little Big Town, Mark Lonsway, Christian Kane‘s new EP – I’m diving in. Turn the Radio to US99.
Didn’t I make you blush; didn’t I drive you a little crazy? Didn’t I make you think about who you are?
— from Mark Lonsway’s CD Not Your Typical Cowboy on heavy rotation on my iPod
I could have married a cowboy. Big man he was, and he had it bad for me. Scared the crap out of me actually, he had it so bad. He played football at the college, and he would come into where I worked and stare at me. I admit, I would stare right back – he was so handsome – he looked like a SD version of Tom Selleck no kidding, and he and his brothers were planning on going back to the family place out near the town where my grandmother lived. (This was country that my husband referred to as “stark” – I told him I though it was “austere.”) On our second or third date this football player gave me the whole picture of how he had it planned. We would get married, live on the farm, – perfect plan. He had a nickname picked out for me and everything. He gave me the first and, yes, only hickey (ew, gross) I ever had – and that was what scared me, well, that and the fact that the plan didn’t involve any input from me in the planning stages apparently. He was so big and so powerful that I almost couldn’t get him to stop. And he wasn’t that great of a kisser, truth to tell.
Something about a cowboy (though maybe not that one) has always been pretty compelling, though. So what would I be like?
- Living in/near Brookings or what, maybe west, closer to the River
- Singing in the Church choir
- teaching? More than likely
- garden (of course)
- farm? (truck garden maybe – but not fields of soybeans I don’t think)
- Truck. I’d finally get that truck. No need to have a truck in the city, but if I had that big garden…
- Big, old, smart dogs. Got two now, one that is a fossil practically at 17+ yrs (shepherd/ husky/wolf) and the goofy girl dog (Siberian).
But this is not to say that I do not love the life I have. It’s remarkably consistent with that possible self. I have my farm/ 140 year old farm house in the city, three amazing daughters, music producer/engineer for a husband, two goofy dogs, and a job I enjoy.
I’ve taken more than I’ve been given
I’ve taken for granted this life I’m livin’
I don’t know why heaven above
Blessed me with your sweet love
Though I never tell you what you’re worth
It’s more than I deserve – More Than I Deserve by Christian Kane
This is just a rumination on choices and trajectories and free will and love songs.
Especially love songs.
guitar image by keela84