After my father died at seven and we lost the farm, I guess I
was primed for country music. So when I ran away from home at 15 in Upstate New
York and hitchhiked to Miami, I had my transistor radio tuned to a 50,000 watt
clear channel radio station where the most popular song was Hank Snow's
"Rocking, Rolling Ocean." The station sold the Lord's Prayer
inscribed on the head of a pin.
I went back home because I kept remembering the Kappa Alpha
Theta composite I'd seen and knew if I didn't return and go to college I'd
never end up with someone who looked like one of them.
In the North no one cared about country music, but I did.
I know Hadyn wrote 104 symphonies, Mozart 41 and Beethoven
9. I've listened and enjoyed most all of them, but one of my greatest vacations was in Yosemite
when they renamed the local station K-Garth and I heard "Friends in Low
Places," "Daddy Loved Momma, Momma Loved Men," and that God's
greatest gift was "Unanswered Prayers."
He's the greatest showman in the history of Country Music
and he recently released a boxed album that's announcing his return. I applaud
his soon-to-be arrival, but won't buy the boxed set. I've got almost
everything Garth Brooks recorded. I know that his best recording was of an old Bob Wills' song "Deep
Water," on an album made with "Asleep at the Wheel."
Now if they just bring back K-Garth, I'll move to Yosemite.
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